A couple of months ago, The Hold Steady absolutely kicked my arse with their hot-as-shit sophomore effort, Separation Sunday. They achieved what I thought Jet had proved impossible: that, post Bon Scott, pub rock can still rock. I mulled this over on my way to Bowery Ballroom on a warm New York Sunday, as I waited for the 6 train in the sauna-like Union Square station. I was sweating like Nixon during Watergate, but I didn't mind – I anticipated a hard-rockin', sweaty evening. It turns out the Hold Steady don't let down.

After descending down a narrow staircase to the lower level of the two-storey venue, I had just enough time to pay my $15 cover and grab a beer before the first bars of Sam Champion's set emanated from The ceiling.

Soon, I found my foot tapping to the New York based band's tight pop gems and lead-singer Noah Chernon's country-tinged voice. The pop songs were broken up nicely by noisier, punkish numbers.

Sam Champion tread that fine line between catchy and noisy with the aplomb of a French-Canadian tight rope walker. I'm thinking the unexpectedly cute offspring of Summerteeth era Wilco mated with early Sonic Youth. I like it.

A couple of beers and zero cigarettes later (the blessing – or curse – of New York's 'no smoking in bars' policy) Love as Laughter graced the stage. Like almost every band signed to Sub Pop, these guys are great.

Their performance was unassuming, allowing their excellent guitar driven rock to speak for itself. Songs from the recent Laughter's Fifth dominated the set. "I'm a Ghost" was a whole lotta fun, while "Every Midnight Song" turned up the rock a notch. The highlight however was "Dirty Lives". The catchiest song off the new record, this one got the crowd moving and joining in on the handclaps.

Waiting for The Hold Steady, there was a definite buzz of excitement over the growing crowd. There is much hype around the band in indie circles – they have appeared on the cover of the Village Voice – and this has seen them gain a great deal of recent popularity. As they set up their gear, the anticipation was palpable.  

The moment The Hold Steady furiously crunched into their first song, it was clear that the hype is justified. Frontman and vocalist Craig Finn demands attention on stage.

Middle-aged, balding, and wearing thick glasses, he dances like an epileptic Michael Stipe, frantically clapping between fits of playing guitar. He hoarsely shouts his lyrics – Bukowski-esque tales of slutty, thieving hoodrats and drunken arguments – like some eloquent wino in a seedy dive bar.

Your Little Hoodrat Friend" went off, the crowd going absolutely sick as they shouted along to the chorus: "I aint never been with your little hoodrat friend!" Towards the end of that song, Finn spat beer to the joy of the front row.

The band themselves were tight as a nun: the polished, hard 'n' heavy rock had the audience spilling their beers everywhere, just like good pub rock should.

Appropriately, the highlight of the night was "Barfruit Blues", a song off The Hold Steady's debut, Almost Killed Me. Finn extended the bridge, aggressively repeating: "she said it's good to see you back in a bar band, baby". By the end of the set, the audience wasn't going anywhere, and the band treated us to a long encore.  

After the gig, punters mingled happily outside, sweaty and smelling of beer. This must be the mark of a truly successful bar band, and a great show