I'm getting nervous, but this shake up is backed by no tangible reason. Why am I worried? After last night's Art Brut performance at the Bowery Ballroom, I'm wondering how long their brand of post-blog rock can last. Yes, there is a new genre called blog rock and though I can't recall who wins on the original trademark - it's fucking brilliant. Despite what sounded like a problem with the mix (where the fuck was the lead guitar for the first half of the set), their Brut charm came through the black cloud and had the back corner in an uproar.

Before Eddie and his sharply dressed cohorts took the stage, The Ponys managed to pull off another boring set. In all seriousness, you've heard me hype this band before. Celebration Castle, Laced With Romance and even the Another Wound EP receive regular attention in my weekly musical rotation, but their live show has become a 50/50 shot in the dark. Why the fuck do they refuse to play their jams? This isn't some fucking Animal Collective crowd that has come to expect this sort of shunning of their back catalogue. Their songs rock, and when they manage to pull them off (2004 Siren Festival) - they are capable of saving rock and roll. Last night The Ponys showed zero flashes of this potential attitude. While I enjoyed the first couple of new songs, it quickly dawned on me that their set would be a retread of the wasted hour I spent watching them in Texas. Now this may come off as a little harsh, but they are one of my favorite bands and this regression will not stand, man.

During changeover I managed to drown my sorrows in a vodka tonic while comparing SXSW war stories with Mr. Village. As the guitar techs began to clear the stage, a massive banner rose from the back of the stage with bright orange letters announcing that it was indeed time for ART BRUT! My excitement boiled over especially on the appearance of an "I'm Wasted" Builder. The back corner was clutter with folks like Dan, Gigs, Beach, Kelley, Ghory, Stevo, Kevin, Dave, Matt, Joe and a one woman karaoke machine known as Leif Erickson. Like I said before there were some sound issues over the first half of the set, but by the time Bango poured us a tequila shot, I could have cared less. The tequila crept to the back of my throat as the crowd pumped their fist to "Modern Art" which prompted me to do a little pogo'n that landed a full beer on Builder's chest. The rowdiness continued into their finale "Top of the Pops" when Stevo body checked me into the wall, and for some reason there was a beer floating magically between me and said wall that exploded all over me. The encore consisted of "18,000 Lire" and "Good Weekend" which is hands down my favorite Art Brut song. The set wasn't earth-shattering, but it certainly had all the elements necessary for a kick ass Tuesday night.

Oh, and for posterity - Yaps was there in all his sweaty, new haircut glory. He is such a fucking blogger.