In early 2011, the techno-punk band LCD Soundsystem announced that it was calling it quits. The news came as a shock; the group was fairly young, getting its start in 2001, and rockers don't normally leave the spotlight in such a controlled manner. They die, fade away or desperately cling to fame.

Front man James Murphy and his band of unconventional rockers gave their final bows at an epic four-hour concert at Madison Square Garden. Previously, those unable to purchase a ticket and fly out to New York for the show were forced to watch the event via a Pitchfork live stream. Music buffs, however, were gifted a second chance at the Downer Theatre Wednesday night with "Shut Up and Play the Hits," a one-night-only rock documentary that not only gets fans into the concert but also into the mind of the group's conflicted figurehead.

The film focuses most of its attention on the massive goodbye show, featuring cameos on stage (Arcade Fire and musician/comedian Reggie Watts) and off (the cameras catch Donald Glover and a crowd-surfing Aziz Ansari in the audience). Between songs, directors Will Lovelace and Dylan Southern include a pre-show interview between Murphy and pop culture journalist Chuck Klosterman, as well as a few glimpses at the front man's life as a retiree.

The concert is the showcase element of "Shut Up and Play the Hits," and fans won't be disappointed. Obviously, the film isn't able to include all of the songs from the whole show, but the hits, including "All My Friends," "Losing My Edge" and the concert's heartbreaking finale, "New York, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down," each make an appearance.

The set list sounds great, and each number is performed with massive emotion and bravado. Lovelace and Southern get terrific footage from the show as well, spending most of their time focused on the stage, grabbing the last images of the band at work. The directorial duo gets quality mileage out of a shot that moves from Murphy and tilts all the way around to the raucous crowd. They use it several times, but it never loses its ability to make the concert feel like an epic event.

The concert, for all of its grandness and inherent importance, is surprisingly the least interesting part of the film. It's certainly entertaining, but the ongoing interview between Murphy and Klosterman easily provides the most captivating content. The singer is constantly probed for insight into his career, his music and his thoughts on touring (bad) and pretension (good).

Eventually, the conversation gets Murphy to admit that maybe quitting isn't the right thing to do or perhaps his reasoning – a desire to live as a regular person before the rock lifestyle engulfs him – isn't enough. What once seemed like a confident and noble bow-out soon becomes a mournful slide into everyday life.

Lovelace and Southern's post-show footage furthers that sensation of melancholy. In fact, "Shut Up and Play the Hits" begins with haunting footage of the post-show atmosphere, aided by a strange sonic ear-ringing sound. Good luck hugs are intertwined with the stage hastily being taken apart. The audience then follows Murphy the next day, recovering from his hangover with his dog and coming to terms with the end.

If anything, "Shut Up and Play the Hits" could use more of Murphy's post-LCD Soundsystem evolution into regular life. There's a clear inner conflict within Murphy (a teary-eyed trip to pick up their now-useless concert equipment makes that evident) that could've held up its own movie if given a bit more time.

For almost two hours, though, "Shut Up and Play the Hits" comes through on its promise to be the best funeral ever.