Brass-band enthusiasts may have been entranced by the New Orleans sounds of the ReBirth Brass Band last night at the Maine Center for the Arts.

And they were right to appreciate the fine musical talents of this young eight-piece ensemble devoted to playing respectable jazz in a time when street crowds are turning to lesser musical forms. The ReBirth men showed remarkable energy, an eager sense of humor, and a raucous love for jazz and for having a good time.

But that simply wasn’t enough to make this show an all-around winner. Whether playing a Miles Davis tune, a brass-band standard, or an original number, the group fell into a one-dimensional style of presentation, which, after a while, was more clamorous than entertaining.

A repetitious sequence of songs killed this group’s sparkling reputation for uniquely mixing the New Orleans musical tradition with the more contemporary beats of rap, reggae, hip-hop, and avant-garde jazz.

Additionally, it just doesn’t make good sense — or good listening — to overmike a band that is used to playing on street corners, at showcase clubs, and in funeral parades. Some numbers were loud enough to shake the fillings in your teeth, and nearly all the comments of band members were lost somewhere in the sound system.

Despite these general disappointments, there were praiseworthy elements to the show. Most notable were the amazingly rich backbeats and walking bass lines of shimmying tuba player (and band founder) Philip Frazier.

Likewise, the swiftly sophisticated clarity of trumpeter Kermit Ruffins gave the band solid leadership. Late in the show, Ruffins sang an enormously raunchy and throaty chorus of “Big black woman, get your big black leg off of me,” during a thoroughly successful blues jam.

The finale, which added more funk and spontaneity, gave a mighty ending to the show. Trombonist and band spokesman Stafford Agee easily improved lyrics about the audience coming to the University Motor Inn and buying T-shirts (which someone had forgotten to bring to the show). It was actually a laughable little moment — indicative of the band’s lack of pretention as well as its need to develop a stronger stage show.

It’s possible, however, that this band is not in its best idiom with concerts and that large venues rob such performers of the appropriate space and open air to step to their own tunes.

This must be a truly impressive group in its natural setting, on Bourbon Street, or performing a wide range of tunes at a jazz festival. Bass drummer Keith Frazier, trombonists Keith “Wolf” Anderson and Agee, snare drummer Ajay “Grabby-Grab” Mallery, and showy sax man Roderick Paulin must kick it up with a Mardi Gras wildness.

But part of that wildness comes from an equally wild listening crowd and, while the several hundred listeners at last night’s show were certainly pleased with the music, and expressed their appreciation with willing applause during solos and after songs, they didn’t send much energy back to the performers.