While never to be confused with a shift down a diamond mine, a junior doctor's shift or sexing chickens, being The Next Big Thing is hard work indeed.

Clearly the smartest option is to simply get on with things and this, heroically, is exactly what The Hold Steady, this week's Next Big Thing, do. At first glance it's hard to see what the fuss is about.

Their current album with its Jack Kerouac-referencing title, Boys And Girls In America, is the quintet's third, but with the best will in the world, they are merely that least promising of propositions, a bar band; albeit one heavily influenced by their fellow men from Minneapolis, Husker Du and The Replacements.

Yet to call them just a bar band is akin to calling a slice of Kobe beef just a piece of meat: technically correct, yet spectacularly wrong.

They were an extraordinary spectacle; a supertight force of nature who bore their gifts with a contagious sense of joy.

For all their seeming blue-collar approach (four members mixed and matched beards, paunches, glasses and unlaundered clothes), they had a delicious undertow of peculiarity.

Keyboardist Franz Nicolay, with his caddish waxed moustache, foppish flat cap, rakish earring, prominently displayed handkerchief and ever-present toothpick, was the reincarnation of Terry-Thomas, but when, during the epic Stevie Nicks, he unfurled a solo of lambent beauty, it was clear he wasn't just there for the novelty factor.

Surprisingly, Nicolay wasn't The Hold Steady's focus, nor was bassist Galen Polivka, who could (and did) play entire songs with a cigarette between his teeth.

Singer Craig Finn may have been the most everyman of the everymen, but he was an extraordinary frontman and not merely because of the intellectual dexterity he showcased in the lyrics to Party Pit, Massive Nights and Multitude Of Casualties.

Unceasingly good-natured and blessed with an almost palpable charisma, Finn sang with religious fervour, mimed to himself during the instrumental breaks and, such was his remarkable way with eye contact, he seemingly challenged every audience member to surrender to his charms.

Needless to say, white flags were being raised from the first chords of the opening Stuck Between Stations and were still waving merrily when The Hold Steady squeezed themselves to backstage sanctuary after guitarist Tad Kubler had hauled most of the crowd onto the stage to dance to Killer Parties.

The Next Big Thing? Please.