OK Go - Seattle, WA

OK Go singer Damian Kulash seemed more than ready to move forward and delve into new material from his band's second album, Oh No. Oh No had hit stores only the day before OK Go played the Crocodile, and not a moment too soon for Kulash and the band's other three members. "We've been touring on that album for three fucking years!" he cried, before diving into "Do What You Want," an exuberant call to arms.

The four-piece Chicago crew came off like Fountains of Wayne designed by a record company rather than allowed to grow organically. They have the chops and the keyboards, riffs that pay homage to their Midwestern forefathers Cheap Trick, and as an added bonus, they're super-hot. Not that Fountains of Wayne aren't, it's just that they're, well, a little old.

The little girls understood (especially the one in the full-torso body cast singing along with every word), but the boyfriends were having none of it. The Crocodile was scattered throughout with grumbling boyfriends; I overheard one saying to his buddy, "They think they're rock stars already." As if that were a bad thing. OK Go, unlike the majority of their male audience, were having a great time on stage, and it showed - sharp riffs and sharp suits bounced off of one another, glinting in the Crocodile's artificial light. Songs like the new single "A Million Ways" and "A Good Idea At The Time," a witty line-by-line response to "Sympathy for the Devil," took on a new glow. I was shocked at OK Go's transformation from cogs in the fake-indie machine to newly minted pop stars, bursting with enthusiasm and caring only about getting the audience to dance.

The set closed with a cover of the Violent Femmes' "What Do I Have to Do?" that was infused with power-pop gloss. It exemplified the best qualities of pop and punk, fusing anger with energy and tunefulness to motivate the stodgiest rock cynic. Even the boys were dancing by the end of the set.