This is our best gig ever," Foals bassist Walter Gervers told the steaming moshpit downstairs, midway through their Astoria show, as they threw glowsticks at each other as if auditioning to be extras for youth TV drama Skins.

Standing upstairs on the balcony, however, it felt different. As the Oxford five-piece zipped through French Open and Balloons, singer Yannis Philippakis and guitarist Jimmy Smith jerking back and forth as if digging a road, it felt like we were eavesdropping on one of the house parties they still play.

Everything about this band says "tight", from their chest-height guitars to their precision punk-funk and their closely gathered stage formation, but you felt a bit detached from the fun as soon as you got more than 50ft away. Downstairs, however, it all made sense. The joyous grooves of Two Step Twice and Hummer recalled early-Eighties indiefunksters The Higsons and ACR, and the intricate rhythms of vintage Talking Heads.

Upstairs, people nodded politely, downstairs they lurched around like electrocuted gibbons. The group's enthusiasm was infectious and it was clear that we were witnessing a class act. All they need to do now is learn how to play to the gallery.