On the evidence of this showing, it's the last time The Boxer Rebellion will find themselves in such a venue so low down the bill. Although the room is half empty, the performance is anything but half hearted, as they storm through an intense rendition of 'The Opening'. They manage to draw eyes away from the bar and it's free whiskeys, and towards the stage, if only to make sure it's not that guy from JJ72 behind the mic. However, once this band get your attention, they keep it, especially during such monumental songs as 'Never Knowing How or Why'. The band sway from the delicate and etheral to the fiery and intense, often within the space of the same song, such as on 'We Have This Place Surrounded', where they sound remarkably like Explosions in the Sky with melodies, vocals and song structures. Other highlights include 'The New Heavy', the best rockout yet to be written by the Cooper Temple Clause, and set closer 'Watermelon', which grows to fulfill it's massive riff-laden potential when played live. Their new single 'All You Do Is Talk' also recieved a warm reception, and with an album scheduled for release very shortly, it looks likely that 2005 will be the year to deliver on 2003s promise.

That is, unless the latest of the NME's "next big things", Dogs, have anything to say about it. I wish I could say I had watched this band without prejudice, but when you walk onto the stage dressed in indie uniform, obviously drunk and ramble incoherently before even a heavily-distorted chord is struck, you are asking to be judged. They churn out slab after slab of fast, angry punk, that wouldn't have been out of place 25 years ago. The only song I found to be truly enjoyable was 'Selfish Ways', the rest of their set seemed to meld into one messy whole. Frontmen scrapping with the band, guitarists pulling the same old poses, shirts and loose ties... I'm sorry, but we've seen it all before. Fortunately, as the retro-punk fad passes, this kind of band won't be around much longer.

Truly good bands, however, are above such fads. As obvious as it sounds, those with a timeless sound will always sound good, and where Dogs fail, The Raveonettes succeed by using the simplest of combinations, a bass, a guitar and a handful of chords. Fleshed out to a five-peice for this tour, they sound better than ever.

But before we talk music, we have to talk image. It's not something I like doing, but the first thing that strikes you about The Raveonettes are that they are very, very cool. The second thing you notice is Sharin Foo. She is very, very attractive, but despite every pair of male eyes, betrothed or not, being transfixed on her obvious charms, she conducts her band with an effortless cool. Polite at the mic, minimal in her motions, she quite probably wrote the rulebook on cool frontwomen. Brody Dalle, take note.

Combined with their excellent selection of tunes, it is a killer combination. Despite being written almost entirely in the same key, they manage to succeed where Dogs failed, and have a set containing distinguishable songs. 'That Great Love Sound', from their first LP, is a riot, but 'Love In A Trashcan' is a smooth, sexy number, and it's the way they can flick so effortlessly from one to the other that makes them such a good band. After the first 20 minutes or so you truly felt like you were witnessing something really special.

Despite this, their set suddenly lost a lot of its momentum in the second half, especially as they dip into more of their newer material. You just feel that The Raveonettes are 3 or 4 tracks away from a truly memorable set, and it is a shame, becase what is good is very good. For example, they close with one of their rock'n'roll stompalongs, 'Attack of the Ghost Riders', and it brings the house down.

A fitting end to a set that began well and almost delivered on it's early brilliance. But, for those early enough, the evening truly belonged to The Boxer Rebellion. If only the NME would listen and not just look.

Ben Johnston