Speaking to the Stranger about how Art Brut were able to record an album as surprisingly solid as Art Brut vs Satan while still adhering to something like their slap-dash for no cash credo, frontman Eddie Argos explained, simply, "Well, you know, we're professionals." It's funny because Argos' whole persona is based on being this kind of schlubby, broke, record-nerdy everyman—and, yes, he's not really what you'd call a classically trained singer—but damn if he and especially his band aren't total pros, not to mention about the most fun a rock band can get without going completely over the top into Flight of the Conchords comedy-rock territory.

The band began with "Alchoholics Unanimous," after which Argos noted that, though Art Brut avoids irony whenever possible, it felt a little ironic playing that song in Seattle, Washington, due to the WSLCB's onerous and antiquated liquor laws (he likened trying to get a drink to running a relay). This is like the sixth band in recent memory I've heard complaining about this, and rightly so—it's embarrassing. They played "Rusted Gun of Milan," and Argos took to the bridge with a monologue about camping out at Glastonbury with a girl, waking up to the sounds of Elastica performing, which should have been sexy, but then failing to perform himself (I may be misremembering this, but I think the band broke into an Elastica riff at this point—I suppose it could have been a Wire riff, too). They followed that one with a song about getting it on more successfully, "What a Rush," Argos explaining that since they've been playing the two together he's come to think of them as "bad cock/good cock." "What a Rush" is just a hell of a song (although I don't much care for the background vocals), from the pile of clothes in disarray to the dumb double entendre "a massive rush of blood to the head" to the great lines, "You like the Beatles, and I like the Stones/but those are just records that our parents own" and "There's a scene missing/we were seen kissing." Great stuff.

The band, as usual, was perfectly tight and rocking. Drummer Mikey Breyer played the entire set standing up, stomping the kick pedal with one foot, wearing summer shorts and high socks. Lead guitarist Ian Catskilkin strangled solos out of his guitar at every opportunity. Guitarist Jasper Future was dutifully hammy, ranging around the stage, leaning on Catskilkin, gesturing for the crowd to make some noise. Bassist Freddy Feedback (possibly not her real name; same goes for Future) basically hung back and let her bass do the talking. Everything sounded just as good as on record—full of catchy as fuck guitar lines and perfectly upbeat rhythms backing up Argos' inspired lecutring—but still a little bit live-wired. Despite their apparent professionalism, Art Brut still cast themselves against a sort of bland over-professionalism—they dedicated "Slap Dash for No Cash" to Kings of Leon, Razorlight, and a few other dreadfully middling vanilla rock bands that I forgot as soon as Argos rattled them off; for the extended bridge of the song, Argos derisively sang, "my sex is on fire" a few times before going off about how even after "millions of dollars and hundreds of rewrites" the best Kings of Leon could come up with was "my sex is on fire"—"what the fuck does that even mean," Argos demanded. At the end of their set, Breyer hopped up on his bass drum and held his hand out for applause before launching into a few rounds of quickening drum solos. For their encore, Argos walked out to the band playing "Back in Black," and they swapped out "Bang Bang Rock and Roll" for an audience request, which, thanks to a loud clutch of Sounders FC supporters (the group was the Gorilla FCs for those keeping score) was the punk rock-as-football anthem "St. Pauli." The rest of the setlist was as follows:

The crowd was small-ish but certainly enthusiastic. Two unassuming looking young ladies formed their own self-sustaining (and sometimes crowd-inciting) mosh pit. Lots of hands pumped up in the air for the triumphant sing-along bits, and lots more clapped along at the slightest encouragement from the band. Argos got down into the crowd after just a couple songs. It was all quite a blast.

photos by Matt Hickey; more after the jump