Art Brut articulate a peculiar conundrum: how to celebrate the death of rock'n'roll while at the same time getting very upset about it. Bad Weekend is a case in point. The song describes a band's (or perhaps all bands') descent from popular culture to an underground concern, but in the middle of the song, frontman Eddie Argos breaks off to launch into a diatribe about how he went into HMV to see if his single was there, but saw nothing but computer games. It's simultaneously a comment on culture and - with "I fell to my knees and cried!" - a moment of high drama.

There are plenty of both in an Art Brut set - a vehicle for Argos, a larger-than-life character who looks and dresses like a suburban insurance salesman who got whisked away into a life of art and excess. "Bang bang, rock and roll, I can't stand the sound of it," he wails, before using the microphone lead as a skipping rope and running through the crowd.

His other main concerns are former girlfriends who, judging from the number of Art Brut's songs about them, are dozens in number. The possible reason is - ahem - laid bare on Rusted Guns of Milan, an astonishingly brave song about erectile dysfunction that sees Argos pleading with his amour: "Don't tell your friends!"

His wit is considered but can be spontaneous, as when he quips: "Fingers crossed - except the guitarist." Over an hour, the limitations of their Wire/Ian Dury art-school punk become increasingly apparent, but you would pay to watch Argos on his own. "Don't listen to people in bands, we're probably drunk and just showing off," he cries. Present company excepted, of course.