Sometimes the buzz surrounding a new act can be a double-edged sword. Sure, it's great if a new artist generates a lot of excitement before the release of an album. Yet sometimes the hoopla can become so enormous that it's impossible for an artist to match the expectations.

Such was the case Saturday at the soldout Troubadour, when British blog sensation Lily Allen made her Los Angeles debut with a short 40-minute set that showed hints of future star power but didn't live up to the excitement surrounding her.

In the U.K. -- where her debut album, "Alright, Still," was released in July -- Allen is already a star with two hit singles to her credit. In the U.S., however, Capitol hasn't schedule the album for release until January -- a curious move that Allen bemoaned Saturday.

Capitol has released a four-song, digital-only EP, which makes sense considering the hype about Allen that has spread around the Web, from her MySpace page to fans' blogs.

Allen's music gives plenty of reason for the excitement. The daughter of comedian Keith Allen has come up with an infectious mix of ska and pop influences that's incredibly catchy and sounds almost kid-friendly, until you realize she slyly sneaks in references to such harsh urban realities as "a pimp and his crack whore."

On her recordings, Allen comes off as the missing link between Gwen Stefani and Lady Sovereign. She mines the same ska influences No Doubt's blond bombshell explored during her early years, and possesses the cheekiness of the pint-sized British rapper. Onstage, Allen looked incredibly cute in a party dress.

Backed by a three-piece horn section, a bassist and a keyboardist who cued up the computer-programmed beats, Allen took the stage to the familiar Jamaican-styled horn riff for her first British hit, "LDN." It was a bold move for her to play one of her aces so early in the set, but it worked. The problem was that it didn't get much more exciting than that. She played her other Brit hit, "Smile," and showed she can sing as well as toast on the '60s girl-group-inspired "Littlest Things," but she failed to generate much heat as a performer.

It wasn't until the final song, "Alfie" -- the tale of her stoner brother set to a circus-like soundtrack -- that Allen became more animated. Perhaps you can chalk it up to inexperience, but for now Allen is better on record -- or your computer -- than in the flesh.