Just because you were cool enough to score a ticket to Friday's Flight of the Conchords concert doesn't mean you're not an utter jerk

Let's just get this out of the way: Jemaine and Bret were brilliant. They were hilarious. I haven't seen such deadpan humor play so well in a venue this big since I saw Steven Wright more than 20 years ago. If you're rich enough to score tickets to Sunday's show at the Orpheum, you'll end up as happy as the scalper you bought them off of.

I don't want to dwell on their concert all that much, because if you know what I'm talking about, I don't have to explain it all over again, and if you don't, you've already tuned out. Explicating their banter can't possibly be as funny as hearing it live, so I'll sidestep that minefield but suffice it to say, it's self-deprecation elevated to an art form. And Jemaine had a nice screed aimed at douchebag audience members who were trying to download performances on their cell phones so they could post them on YouTube.

Random observation: The song they're most sick of performing seems to be "Bowie," based on how very truncated a version they hacked out Friday night.

Alas, they didn't do this song:

They did offer a few brand-new songs that should turn up in season two in 2009 - one, in which Jemaine did battle with a choir of ex-girlfriends, another celebrating their banal sexual "freakiness" and an uplifting spiritual number about "angels in the clouds" that should single-handedly deny them entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven, at least that realm as defined by John Hagee.

So, anyway, here's what was annoying about Friday's show: Jesus Christ, people, can you quit already with shouting out the song requests? Have you ever been to a concert? Do you not realize that the band probably already pretty much knows what songs they're going to perform?

And particularly with a show like Flight of the Conchords, where all you're doing when screaming out is mucking up their comedic banter? Hey, guess what: It's not all about you. Even though you live in L.A. and are entitled beyond all rational thought.

Complaint No. 2 is aimed squarely at FotC's T-shirt designers, who were apparently tasked with creating the ugliest T-shirts on the planet. (And they had plenty of competition: For example, I've seen Neil Young live a whole scad of times in the past 25 years, and only seen maybe one or two T-Shirts that seemed remotely cool-looking enough to be worth buying.)

These aspiring poxes upon society succeeded: Most FotC T's looked like they were rejects from the '70s; they were all horrible, save for one. That one T, however, wasn't nearly attractive enough for anyone anywhere to think, "You know, that'll look good in my wardrobe."

A couple of particularly gruesome T-shirts referenced the song "Ladies of the World." Jemaine and Bret didn't even perform that song - it's like even they didn't want people to waste their money.