Is there a new curfew in effect in L.A.? Young folks were dropping like well-dressed flies out of the Bootleg Theater as Cass McCombs rocked past the midnight mark. By the time he wrapped up his superb set, somewhere around 20 minutes past the hour, it felt like McCombs and crew were playing for a small group of friends in an abandoned building. (The Bootleg actually does look more like an abandoned building than a theater.) How anyone with even just a minor interest in McCombs’ music could have checked out early from that performance is a mystery. The man and his ace band sounded close—but not too close—to perfect as they crackled through clever, dark pop and country drifters from his now-sizable catalog, the new entry being the understated, elegant Catacombs. Styled a bit like Kenny Chesney with his sleeveless shirt and blue jeans, McCombs struck an odd balance between cool detachment and old-school showmanship. He delivered skillful yet tasteful solos on his faded red Telecaster, and he let his bandmates have their turns in the spotlight (although the drum “solo” was more a humorous deconstruction). As the final song wound down, McCombs even introduced each of the players and wished the remaining audience members a safe drive home. But his intense gaze and quiet focus kept an undercurrent of tension running throughout the show. As an aside, it’s worth noting that Penn Jillette was spotted in the crowd tonight, presumably researching an exposé on contemporary indie rock for his Bullshit! program. He may have left early.

—Thomas McMahon