The Dead 60s

If we are currently in the midst of some kind of Britpop renaissance, then it's pleasing to know that not all of 2005's incumbents are taking their points of reference from the most obvious of sources.

Take Brighton's Kooks for example. On first inspection, singer Luke Pritchard and guitarist Hugh Harris look for all the world like the puppyfat skinned duplex of The Mars Volta's Cedric Bixler and Omar Rodriguez. Big of hair and flailing of limbs, no one would have expected anything less than noise laden monologues about torture and death that jerk uncomfortably from start to finish.

WRONG. Instead, The Kooks sound like the perfect follow-up to 'I Should Coco' if Supergrass hadn't got too big for their nappies and matured before feeding time. 'Sofa Song' and 'Eddie's Gun' combine the raw energy of simplistic rock 'n' roll with the catchy melodies of exquisite pop, surely the most perfect combination for anyone wishing to make sufficient headway in this game. By the time set closer 'Pull Me In' has seen Pritchard, Harris and bass player Max Rafferty wrestle each other to the ground and back in a simultaneous collision of sweat and beer, no one in the room is left in any doubt that with a little refinery in the tunes department, the Kooks have what it takes to infiltrate the mainstream.

Which is something the Dead 60s have managed to achieve, albeit the hard way, as their non-stop tour schedule finally grinds to a halt for a few weeks at least after tonight.

Taking their mantle from a time more familiar to their parents than anyone else, the Dead 60s are the uniformed (Fred Perry and sta-press jeans) antidote to the Kaiser Chiefs' a-good-time-was-had-by-all Madness and Hard-Fi's street-cred favoured love songs. With a sound that owes as much to legendary reggae staple Trojan Records as it does the 2-Tone era and a beguiling spate of lyricism straight out of the diaries of Joe Strummer, the Dead 60s are like a breath of fresh air in an already saturated genre.

'Control This' borrows unashamedly from The Clash's 'Armagideon Time' ("cashing in the bill of r-r-r-rights...") while 'Horizontal' and its chafing three chord mantra washes away the foul taste leftover by a million and one American punk/ska crossover bands in an instant.

It's also reassuring to note how the Dead 60s have progressed over the past 12 months as both performers and musicians, as singer/guitarist Matt McManamon spends every instrumental break clambering onto the monitors having perfected every rock star pose imaginable, while fellow scamps Ben Gordon and Charlie Turner cover every inch of the stage like farmers furrowing for their spring vegetable collection.

No doubt the ska revival will have tailed off by Christmas but with the pop-friendly riffs of 'Riot Radio' and discordant jazz of 'Red Light' up their sleeves, only a fool would expect the Dead 60s to fall by the wayside when the scene bubble goes pop.