SAN FRANCISCO--There's usually a magic hour in the career of great bands, a years-long period where its creative spark and passion meets head-on with its hunger and energy.

We're a long way from knowing if the Arctic Monkeys will end up being a great band or not, but their set at The Warfield last night made one thing abundantly clear: they're in the midst of one heck of a magic hour.

The UK quartet blistered through a 75-minute set of funk-fused punk last night that was smart but catchy, hard but poppy and exciting throughout. They did so without the rough edges of young upstarts or the preening of the Next Big Thing.

Be Your Own Pet, a much-acclaimed quartet from Nashville, Tenn. whose sound centers on double-time drumming and loud fuzzed-out guitars, opened the bill. The songs were good at times--think an even more manic Yeah Yeah Yeahs. They fell victim, though, to those rough edges, as singer Jemina Pearl and guitarist Jonas Stein spent the latter part of the set dancing spastically, rolling around on stage, and crashing into one another.

The Arctic Monkeys came into last night's show at a near-perfect time for fans. On the heels of a well-received performance at Coachella, and with their sophomore album, Favourite Worst Nightmare, hitting stores last week, last night's show was the official tour kickoff.

Kicking off with a scorching version of "If You Found This It's Probably Too Late," the band quickly dove into "Brianstorm," the new record's first single. Nick O'Malley plucked at a thunderously propulsive bass line, and drummer Matt Helders drove the frenetic beat.

The music was aggressive, but frontman Alex Turner's wit and songwriting continues to set the band apart. The youngster can spin a yarn with the best of them, particularly on new tracks like "Do Me a Favour," a soulful ballad that offered a nice counter to the feverish pace of the set: "Well the morning was complete/There was tears on the steering wheel dripping on the seat/Several hours or several weeks/I'd have the cheek to say they're equally as bleak."

The song of the night, however, was the apt "Fake Tales of San Francisco," which concludes with repeated shouts that address both the hype that surrounds them and the bands hoping to follow in their footsteps to success: "Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook."

Most of what has been written about the Arctic Monkeys has centered on the sheer volume of what has been written about them. It's the irony of the blogging age: The attention focuses on the attention. But when it comes down top it, the Sheffield quartet is worthy of all of it.