Streetlight Manifesto brought its horn-laden ska-punk to the Turner Ballroom last night in order to promote its new album "Somewhere in the Between." In tow and opening for the band were rock outfit The Stitch Up and rap group Grand Buffet and, to my surprise, a few solo songs from Dan Potthast.

Turner Hall got a tiny acoustic tweak since the last time I was at the venue, about a month ago, with the installation of new sound absorbing material towards the rear.

When Potthast first took the stage and his voice broke through the murmur of the crowd I instantly recognized it, but I couldn't immediately place who it was. When I had entered the Turner Hall Ballroom that night I was familiar with only the main act so it surprised me to find myself instantly time traveling to a few years ago, re-living some faint memories (ah...the power of music).

The man on stage and he looked looked like a chubbier Napoleon Dynamite, with thick rimmed glasses and tight curly hair. I hassled my friend, trying to use her as a crutch to put the pieces together. "He said his name was Dan and he mentioned his band, but I didn't catch it. Dan ... Dan ... Oh yeah! Dan Potthast, the frontman for the St. Louis ska act, MU330!"

Well this was a pleasant surprise. It turned out that between gigs with MU330 and his own solo career, Potthast found room for some more stage antics with his new band, The Stitch Up. He played through a few of his solo songs before the rest of the band took the stage. Also playing with The Stitch Up was bassist Rick Johnson of Rick Johnson Rock and Roll Machine (which, I believe, qualifies this new band for the "super group" status).

It was a straight-up power pop trio, but every so often the group tossed out an MU330 tune. At the end two audience members were invited to the stage for a guitar-off and the winner was given the chance to play the last song; a wonderful gift to the fans. The audience is entertained by how the song turns out (for good or for ill) and another guy gets to make a check mark on his "Before I Die" list.

Next up was Grand Buffet, two rappers that took themselves none-too-seriously by pretending to take themselves seriously. Their brand of rap was more satirical and self-conscious, taking the cliches of the genre and magnifying or distorting them to amusing degrees. The whole set was just short of squeaky clean, replacing offensive body parts, for instance, with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and swearing off Facebook for MySpace. Squeaky clean, that is, until they were boo-ed into suicidal thoughts of shooting themselves in the head, and asking the audience to consider their wife and kids. They got me wondering about the future of rap and whether a rapper can be taken seriously despite skin color.

Then Streetlight Manifesto took the stage and the crowd condensed to a quarter of its size.

Streetlight Manifesto's brand of ska-punk isn't like most of the goofy or bouncy party music that was popularized in the mid '90s and several reviews of their earlier albums always seem to carry the disclaimer "I don't like third wave ska, but..." Their albums caries a much darker tone, a brooding intensity. The trumpet and saxophone are bright and firey, while the trombone and bass saxophone troll the depths. Their sound is so tight and that it could be as sufficient a protection as 300 spartan shields.

Lead singer Thomas Kalnoky calls out with a distinct, worn voice, more rusty than raspy. Streetlight's music often moves at breakneck speeds, shooting up to 160 miles per hour and, just as quickly, slamming on the brakes and throwing it into reverse only to gas it again mere seconds later. By the third song drummer Chris Thatcher's sticks were covered in his own blood, but he continued to keep up, taking out the pain of his injury on his drum set, for a half an hour longer. Due to the injury, however, the show was unfortunately truncated at around 45 minutes.

After the band left the stage the audience was calling for more blood, begging for an encore that would not be delivered. In the end it didn't seem to matter much to the kids as the band had managed to squeeze out a fair amount of songs, no small feat when you consider many of them reach 4 or 5 minutes. The majority of their first album (or second, depending on how you look at it), "Keasbey Nights" was condensed into a sub-5-minute revue while its two most popular songs were combined into one. The audience was also treated to new songs from the new album, as well as old songs from from a former band, Bandits of the Acoustic Revolution.

I wish the band could have played a a lot longer, but it left us wanting more (much more) which is probably smart, if unintended, marketing. The show may have been short, but it was very, very sweet.