THINK you're cool? Then read on, because only the coolest people are fans of The Departure.

Last night, a sea of asymmetric haircuts and ill-fitting suit jackets greeted the Northampton quintet's return to Fibbers.

Support came from Clor, a group who between them may well own a copy of Devo's synth-punk masterpiece Freedom Of Choice. Disco beats and falsetto vocals nestled up to squelchy parps and ghost noises, and all to an accompaniment of flashing light-sabres. Random.

Anyone who has encountered The Killers will know what to expect from The Departure, but though the usual suspects were all present and correct - i.e. the bass burbled funkily, the drums pounded pulsatingly, and the guitars stabbed angularly - the resulting mix lacked the sparkle of the aforementioned theatrical 1980s revivalists.

The problem seemed to lie with the, er, "distinctive" vocals of frontman David Jones, who projected himself with the force of head Killer Brandon Flowers, but had neither the range nor the depth of his closest oral relatives, Ian Curtis and Morrissey. This uniformity, coupled with a relentless barrage of excessively rounded vowels, vocalised "I"s and dropped "T"s, brought general monotony to the evening.

However, one must be careful not to judge too harshly a band yet to celebrate their first birthday (they formed in January). At this stage in their career, The Beatles were still knocking out Little Richard covers, and they did reasonably well in the end. In these days where record companies require instant remuneration from their musical investments, it's easy to expect too much, too soon.

Updated: 10:10 Wednesday, October 13, 2004