You've got to hand it to Kasabian - they're no slackers.

Still hoarse from a tour of Australia and the Far East, with a string of European dates kicking off the next morning, a lesser band might have turned in early with a cup of Horlicks.

Tonight, though, there was business to be done. "Here comes another classic," barked a scarf-clad Tom Meighan, and if the opening song Shoot The Runner hadn't quite lived up to that billing, scuppered by a malfunctioning PA, Kasabian weren't about to let it bother them.

This intimate, sweaty NME Awards show felt like a night of consolidation for Kasabian. Meighan waved the front rows into a frenzy like a footballer fresh from popping one into the goalmouth.

The wiggy psychedelia of Sun/Rise/Light/Flies, with Meighan sharing vocals with guitarist Sergio Pizzorno, prompted a sea of raised arms.

And even if this was the same set-list Kasabian played when they swung through London a few months back, everyone seemed too caught up in the moment to notice.

So why have Kasabian seemed to touch such a nerve among British audiences?

Like Oasis and Primal Scream before them, this is a band who have figured out how to translate the communal vibe of acid house into a band setting.

Forget The Klaxons for a second - they haven't written anything that shuffles, pumps, or throbs quite like Processed Beats or The Doberman.

Oh sure, like rave, Kasabian also have their dodgy lyrics - it remained hard to take Cutt Off, with its lyrics about mind control and monkeys, totally seriously.

But by the encore - a mass singalong of Club Foot followed by a freaky rendition of The Stuntman that would have been equally at home at Fabric as in a sweaty concert hall - they had stomped the competition to dust. The festival season trembles in anticipation.