Carling Stage: Top Five

United Kingdom | | 03 September 2004

Having seemingly appeared out of nowhere with their sharp-suited, hip-jolting retro electro moves The Departure literally command the stage with their stylish mix of New Romantics-inspired melodies and beat-pulsing grooves. Fresh from their support to The Killers, the band are simply a joy to watch as frontman Dave shifts and slides with a cool swagger while their catchy choruses leave you in no doubt as to the impact they'll have in the coming months.

Agent Blue also steal from the 80s. The Stoke five-piece violently spray blinding punk-riot mace into their crowd as frontman Nic Andrews climbs up and over anything, fog-horn bellowing to the sound of Zac De La Rocha stamping on the leftovers of Adam Ant. The rest of the band may look like scruffy architecture students but these boys are more into breaking things down rather than putting anything up, bulldozing the stage with a primal intensity and fierce disregard. Song writers, rather than sound creators, if they just manage to find the hooks they are so desperately looking for, they could be very big indeed.

Bobbie Williams and Mark Lanegan Jnr. make up for the serious lack of shine-ability this year. Do Me Bad Things are the only band to trample the Carling Stage with any true rock star potential. Bobbie wears your mother's best top, Mark is eating plaid, and any beat combo with three doo-wop senoritas will not fall foul of the mid afternoon rule: keep us dancing or naptime beckons. It's a bit Lynyrd Skynyrd and a bit Elton John and a bit like the best metal buzz since Croydon became cool.

Having garnered an impressive following through recent stints in the US and Australia, Cardiff constructors of the wierd and wonderful Mclusky return to woo us once again, carving out a sound that draws on the spiky energy of The Pixies and Steve Albini (who also produced their 2000 debut). Judging by the way vocalist Andy Falkous ducks and dodges around some of the most surreal sing-a-long choruses of the day so far, including some crazed cuckoo-cooing, its obvious that it won't be long before these psycho-warbling warriors flee the nest - and that can only be a good thing.         

The Glitterati get the final coveted top five spot, not because they're doing anything new (they're just another bunch of glam-rock upstarts from Yorkshire) but simply because they're having the most fun, which in itself rubs off quicker than a henna tattoo bought at a festival. OK so they really should burn their Cutting Cru albums, give up on trying to be The Darkness, and wash those faded AC/DC t-shirts. But all's forgiven while they inject short, sharp shots of dirty, three-chord power straight into the balls and for now that's all we need. They love it, we love it, pluck it, fuck it - leave it alone.