Glasvegas at The Leopard, Doncaster, July 8

As one of the most hotly tipped bands in the country, the last place you'd expect to find Glasvegas is in a small worn out pub in Doncaster. With local gig posters and tribute bands adorning the walls, no backstage area to speak of and a capacity of 200 there's only one way to describe this gig in a town of mad music fans- absolute chaos.

So when the Glaswegians struggle to make it through the sweaty throng, a hair barely out of place, the band immediately out shine the poxy room. However there's no woops from the audience, no aggressive drunks, but a hushed silence as you squint to make out the band's clean cut silhouettes. Cramped onto the small stage Glasvegas should be screaming from the rooftops, and blasting the drunken regulars into Sheffield, or something, but they just stand there. That is until the powerful guitars of 'Geraldine' give the room a haunting atmosphere, partnered only by the thumping marching drum beat.

The sound's distorted, the vocals inaudible and the constant whirring guitar chords are uninspired. As the group flit from one song to the next it shows an anthemic quality, however they fall down over their continuous generic sound. Looking down at the floor lead singer James rumbles into 'Daddy's Gone' while the band fail to react as the strong audience sing every line back onto the stage.

Finally as guitarist Rab is helped from the stage, it's the closest the group have been to audience interaction all night. Maybe Glasvegas are more suited to a larger venue, or maybe we'll find them a year down the line playing a small pub in exactly the same place.

Photo: Andy Cook