Hindered by sound problems and a calm and placid atmosphere, Cibo Matto lacked the spirit and intensity of their favorable reputation at Monday night’s sold-out M-Shop concert.

It had all the ingredients for a perfect show.

A national act was set to play at a tiny venue in Ames packed between dates in Minneapolis and Dallas.

At only 200 capacity, The M-Shop was the smallest venue on Cibo Matto’s entire tour itinerary. It should’ve made for an exceptionally intimate show, but due to unlucky factors, it didn’t.

After playing at mostly 1,000-capacity and up venues, it’s possible Cibo Matto forgot how to really connect with an audience.

“You can relax if you want, feel free to lie down. It’s not like a lecture or something,” frontwoman Miho Hatori said early on in the show.

Her statement set the mood for the entire performance, which aside from the encore set, could have easily been as monotonous as a Physics 221 lecture.

Hatori and keyboardist Yuka Honda playfully joked with the audience on a few occasions, but for the most part, the overall vibe was tranquil.

Shaking a tambourine, Hatori swayed back and forth during “King of Silence,” a song that on record embodies a powerful presence but failed to capture the energy when played live.

Staring at the ceiling through his thick, black-framed glasses, an apathetic Sean Lennon looked bored, and that’s the feeling that came across as he strummed his jet-black Fender jazz bass.

He barely ever spoke or even bothered to make eye contact with the audience, who throughout most of the show appeared subdued and only mildly entranced by the music.

It almost seemed like Cibo Matto were just trying to work their way up to an energetic performance, but when things broke down, they forget their destination.

Lennon’s distortion pedal died at the end of “Blue Train,” a heavy metal-tinged song that’s easily the noisiest selection from the group’s recent record, “Stereotype A.”

Any momentum gained from that high-energy song was lost as Lennon stopped the show, attempting to resolve the sound problem.

“This shit happens, OK?,” Hatori remarked, attempting to find humor in the situation.

The usual crowd favorite, “Know Your Chicken,” was supposed to be up next, and Hatori led the crowd in karaoke of the song’s chorus, “I know your chicken/ You got to know your chicken,” to keep them occupied.

After a five-minute break, Lennon decided to give “Know Your Chicken” a go-ahead.

The moment the band broke into the set-closing anthem, Lennon’s distortion pedal broke again, forcing the band to perform a low-key version of their signature song — minus the overdriven distortion.

During the interim, as the rest of the band left the stage, Lennon kneeled down a second time with the sound guy, trying to solve the issue again.

A confused crowd stared at the stage, not knowing whether the show was over or just on hiatus.

The band came back with a reassuring invigoration, and ripped through the upbeat “Sci-Fi Wasabi.”

“Birthday Cake” topped the show off, and percussionist Timo Ellis stepped away from his bongo drums to deliver a refreshingly enthusiastic freestyle rap as the crowd diverted itself by pogoing and dancing.

It was the one moment in the short, 14-song set that Cibo Matto actually did inspire the crowd. The band exited in a roar of applause, as the audience pleaded for another encore, but Cibo Matto failed to deliver.

Maybe it was just bad luck, but Cibo Matto just didn’t know their chicken Monday night.