Arriving comfortably early for Wayfinders, the Holcombe Waller music performance currently playing at On The Boards (through April 12) the uninitiated might grow uneasy. The preshow soundtrack is a nauseatingly innocuous highlights parade of the worst of new age music. One can only hope that it is a set up for something better. Thankfully it is.

When the houselights dim the record scratches. After a few bars in the Baroque and some distortion Holcombe Waller and his ensemble delight while vaguely indicating food for thought in a fast-paced show that, dramatically, is mostly reveal with the slightest of conflict and resolution sequences. It is as entertaining and accessible a production as one is likely to see at On The Boards.

There is dialogue, movement, and video, along with lighting effects, and some powerful emotions. It’s almost musical theatre. Through a healthier variation on “2001: A Space Odyssey” with a flipped twist of the recent film, “Her”, Waller ruminates on our relationship with technology. His questions aren’t discomfitingly provocative or challenging, but there aren’t any easy conclusions either.

The music is on the folk end of pop. Instruments include flute, violin, viola, French horn, bass, and drums, all played on stage by a chorus of actor/musician/vocalists.

There’s a lot of distortion and electronic manipulation. One hears unexpected sounds while watching the ensemble play. The first few numbers are heavily Celtic-inflected and expand the exposition that Waller begins in his opening monologue. His speaking voice is amplified with distortion and echo that gets excessive and annoying before fading. Waller’s singing voice, on the other hand, approaches pop icon status and transports souls when he breaks into falsetto.

The lyrics are largely solid. There are as many weak metaphors as sharp; a few overstretched mis-usages balance exacting wordplay. He speaks of the “sub-conscience” and of “fleeting away” with such precise diction that the choice must be intentional. An innocent character speaks of digital devices growing in the sea, where they are collected on cargo ships where we first see them, arriving through the Golden Gate. Waller’s verbal prestidigitation even finds an aching heart beneath the cold exterior of the GPS navigation systems that play a central role in the work.

While the text can seem downright technophobic the production is anything but. Lights, music, choreography, text, and projections are all seamlessly integrated and simply executed, hiding none of the visuals and still creating magic. By integrating it into the plot, Waller excuses a camera rig on a dolly that others might simply use without explanation. It isn’t strictly necessary, but it speaks to the degree of care and attention he gives the work and it suits his theme.

The show’s relationship with the audience wanders a bit at first, but this is useful. It isn’t clear initially whether or not the audience is addressed as a character in the show. While a character eventually emerges this ambiguity serves to draw us into the story. We identify with the very human character whom our protagonist serves. Her bemusement in the climactic moments of the piece is disarmingly authentic.

That sudden shock of her response as our own response is all that justifies the abrupt ending of the show. With a stated running time of an intermissionless 80 minutes Thursday night’s performance ran a scant 50 minutes, catching everyone off guard. One might question whether there was more to see but that new age soundtrack returned driving the audience from the house, Waller’s songs from our heads, and driving home questions of consciousness in a digitally distracted world.