Reviewed by Kevin Courtney
Four happening British bands, one popular UK music paper, a tonsorial sponsor and a few hundred up-for-it Irish fans - welcome to the NME Shockwaves Awards Tour, a kind of travelling indie circus featuring some of guitar pop's current main attractions.
For second-on-the-bill band Arctic Monkeys, this shindig couldn't come at a better time: their second single, When the Sun Goes Down, is about to follow their last one into the UK No 1 slot, and their upcoming debut album, Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not, is generating the kind of buzz not seen since Oasis strutted into a generation's hearts more than a decade ago. The teenage girls are already pushing their way to the front in anticipation of some Monkey business - headliners Maximo Park will have a lot of hormones to mop up afterwards.
First up are Mystery Jets, four shouty young Londoners led by a hairy Toploader-type singer who plays keyboards and dustbin lid with equal gusto. Standing stage left, diffidently strumming the guitar and looking rather out of place among the youngsters, is the singer's dad, the fifth (and oldest) member of Mystery Jets. It's like watching Francis Rossi from Status Quo jamming with Arctic Monkeys. The MJs purvey a loose, falling-apart style of exuberant indie rock, with sudden bursts of percussion, barbershop quartet interludes and psychedelic left turns. Just don't call them dadrock.
If Green Day had been students at MIT, they might have looked and sounded like We Are Scientists. This New York trio may dress like Midwest middle-management types (short-sleeved office shirts; a moustache) but such songs as Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt and The Great Escape are Fender-bending rock 'n' roll anthems that deserve to be heard beyond the indie fringe.
When Arctic Monkeys stroll onstage, the place erupts with the kind of excitement not usually seen on a Monday night in January. Without so much as batting an eyelid or popping a zit, the band launch into current single, When the Sun Goes Down (the kind of tune that shows up Babyshambles as a sham), and follow it with their No 1 hit, I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor. The songs are smartly-paced indie-dance workouts given that extra edge by Turner's clever turns of phrase and spear-sharp observations on everyday nightlife.
"So, we're a phenomenon, then?" deadpans wiry singer Alex Turner, in a helium-fuelled North of Engand tone that's equal parts Mark E Smith and Ashley out of Coronation Street. It might seem careless to toss out their two best-known songs at the start of the set (the crowd sing along to every gritty word), but the Monkeys just get better with each new tune, proving that, when you've got songs as good as Perhaps Vampires is a Bit Strong and Fake Tales of San Francisco, you're gonna look good on any floor.
There's a slight look of terror on Maximo Park singer Paul Smith's face as he takes the stage to a decidedly more muted response. The Newcastle five-piece may have gained plaudits for their debut album, A Certain Trigger, but so far they haven't triggered any Arctic Monkeys-type hysteria, although Smith's signature comb-over has set fashionistas reaching for the Brylcreem. Smith's scared demeanour, however, turns out to be his usual onstage expression - in his suit and trainers he resembles a regional assistant supervisor on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
The band scramble through such tightly-coiled tunes as Limassol, The Coast is Always Changing and Postcard from Katie, offering a spiky post-punk style that verges on prog-rock. Eventually, Smith's jumping beanpole persona wins the crowd over, and Apply Some Pressure releases much onstage tension. Before they end with the excellent Going Missing, we get what must qualify as the theme tune of the evening - The Night I Lost My Head.
