Speaking to The Stranger last week about how Art
Brut was 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’s 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, as well as being 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 their set last Saturday at Neumos with “Alcoholics
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, antiquated (and
frankly embarrassing) liquor laws—he likened trying to get a
drink to running a relay. They played “Rusted Guns 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,” with 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.”
The band, as usual, was tight and rocking. Drummer Mikey Breyer
played the entire set standing up, lead guitarist Ian Catskilkin
strangled out solos at every opportunity, guitarist Jasper Future was
dutifully hammy. Everything sounded just as good as on
record—full of catchy-as-fuck guitar lines and perfectly upbeat
rhythms backing up Argos’s inspired lecturing—but still a little
bit live-wired. Despite their apparent professionalism, Art Brut still
cast themselves against a sort of bland overprofessionalism—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. So, delightfully, not above a little professional beef,
either. 