Last night I watched Ted Leo perform at Pier 54. Rain started falling at about 5:30 delaying the start of the show for over forty five minutes. Bad weather shrank the crowd to those fans hearty enough to brave the terrible conditions. We huddled in a mass of umbrellas waiting for Leo to appear. When the rain finally subsided, an unseasonably cold wind blew across the pier offering little comfort from the passing storm. Miraculously, the miserable weather and long wait only served to heighten anticipation for Ted Leo’s performance. Opening acts Radio 4 and Extra Golden had been canceled to guarantee Leo enough time for a set, so it was Leo dressed in a green military jacket who ended the seemingly endless delay and greeted the soggy assemblage. Leo was treated to loud applause only to confide that the bassist had broken a string pausing the action further. “Play a song…by yourself,” an audience member yelled. Seconds later all problems were resolved and Leo launched into “Me and Mia” to start the set.

Leo charismatically presided over his four piece band as they ripped through songs from every era of his prolific career. Mixing up his vocals with falsetto on the pop punk “Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone,” Leo got the whole crowd clapping in unison. When he got overheated from rapid movement, Leo stripped down to a t-shirt for the furiously strummed “Parallel of Together.” It was a fan friendly performance with Leo taking suggestions from the audience instead of following a prepared a set list. At a certain point, the stage lights were all turned off, probably for safety reasons, leaving only a dim blue glow onstage as the band played. Some of the equipment may have been unusable in the rain, but the sound system worked fine blasting clear sound with propulsive knocking bass. Leo debuted the frantically paced “Bottle in Cork” as a group of energetic teenagers attempted to start a mosh pit. Then, Leo played “Counting down the Hours” starting the song accompanied only by a gentle guitar strum to highlight his lyrics as the rest of the band waited before joining in for a big infectious chorus.

The concert had several false endings; instead of leaving the stage and returning for an encore, the band announced that the current song would be their finale at least three consecutive times. “Ballad of the Sin Father” turned out the be the final finale with Leo and his guitarist shaking maracas to dramatically cap the performance.

Some musicians are excellent live. This summer, we've seen a number of them already -- artists whose music I'd heard but not grown attached to, and whose live show endeared me to them more than I had previously been. Some people are just like that: better in person than on record. Most people are the opposite: better on record than they are live. The number of times that I've gone to see an artist I love and have found the show lacklustre is amazing and too high to count. But then, some people have both; Ted Leo is one of those people. He's amazing on record and has huge energy live, bringing big sound and big rock to the stage the minute he steps onto it.

He, however, doesn't have the best track record with summer shows in NYC. For the past couple of years, there has been absolutely terrible weather -- he actually even played during the blackout, the only musical show to go on -- when he's been getting ready to play a show. Yesterday was no different in the line of seemingly cursed Ted Leo concert days. It was miserable: pouring rain and pretty damn cold, considering it was the end of July. The concert was delayed for an hour, with the minimal crowd who'd showed up early huddling under umbrellas. We actually joined a group of people who asked us if we wanted to contribute to the umbrella canopy, and everyone huddled together to keep warm and as dry as they could.

Finally, around 7:45, we were told that because of the rain we'd be missing the first two acts but that Ted Leo (& the Pharmacists, of course) would be taking the stage shortly. 15 minutes later, it happened -- and of course then something else went wrong. Ted came up to the mic and said, "A string just fell off the bass, so now we have to fix that. Are you surprised?" he asked when the crowd groaned. "Par for the course!"

After fixing the instrument, the group launched into a high-energy set of crowd favourites.During the second song, "Where Have All The Rude Boys Gone," the crowd really started to move, despite the cold. People were pumping fists in the air, dancing around, and seriously enjoying the songs. And why shouldn't they? Ted Leo & the Pharmacists are pros at what they do, by now. Having formed in 1999 and put out 5 studio albums to date (one forthcoming) they pretty much know what they're doing and how to rock a crowd. It helps that their particular brand of indie rock infused with punk and dub is catchy as hell and easy to move your feet to, especially with Ted's vocal stylings floating over the music -- half spoken, half sung, always heartfelt.

A couple of songs in, Ted came up to the mic and said, "We didn't write a setlist, so do you want old or new?" The overwhelming crowd response was "OLD," and they happily complied -- mostly. He laughed, "that doesn't bode well for our new album," but launched into a couple of old songs to tide the crowd over before trying out some new stuff, too. The highlight of the night for me was undoubtedly when they played an old favourite, "Biomusicology." A fan yelled it out from the crowd and, after a few songs in between, the band was happy to comply. The crowd loved it. With lyrics like, "All in all we cannot stop singing // we cannot start sinking // We swim until it ends // They may kill and we may be parted // But we will ne'er be broken hearted," how can you not? It's an anthem for the ages, a rallying point from which to start.

Of the new songs the band tried out, my favourite was one with the repeated lyrics "tell the bartender I think I'm falling in love." Hopefully it's on the upcoming album -- from what we heard of it last night, it's sure to please.

As I walked away from the venue, I had a thought: I forget, sometimes, that there are some musicians who aren't household names. I get so caught up in the music that all of my friends and I listen to that I forget that some of the acts aren't instantly recognisable around the world -- Ted Leo is one of those people for me. I take it for granted that everyone knows who he is, because everyone I know does. I wish everyone else did, too.

Last night was a fantastic set from fantastic performers, and I hope, despite rain, that they keep coming back every year.