I love Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and am less fond of pretentious indie dorks

I've seen Black Rebel Motorcycle Club in concert twice. The first time, they were opening up for some space rock band. (Maybe Spiritualized? I forget.) Their performance was nearly ruined by snide remarks from the holier-than-thou music geeks standing behind me whose fragile indie cred was threatened by BRMC's lack of blue hoodies and checkered shirts.

Similarly, I hesitated before buying BMRC's live set for almost two seconds due to a scathing review in Pop Matters that called the DVD and accompanying CD "terrible."

This album’s purpose is unfathomable. It’s sloppy, but without passion. Perhaps they were going for either a sense of wild abandon or aloof detachment, but committed to neither; they end up sounding under-rehearsed and somnambulant.

It's easy to criticize. Fun, too. But a digital download of a live DVD and CD from Black Rebel Motorcycle Club for just $12? That's the bargain of the century. And the only problem with it? I can't watch it for more than five minutes before I turn it off, pick up my own guitar, and let loose.