Gig played on 26/10/05

Maximo Park have a problem: their song "Going Missing" is just too good. It's perfect, almost, offering a blend of lyrical insight and questing raincoat-rock so stirring and emotive that, even as we type this, people who've just heard it are proposing to their girlfriends, penning volumes of epic poetry and buying pints of milk for the OAP in the downstairs flat.

So what's the problem? Well, "Going Missing" towers over everything else in their set to such an extent that you rely on its opening chords to slap you awake when they finally play it towards the end. Sure, "Apply Some Pressure" may inspire some jerky body-popping, but elsewhere, Paul Smith's abundant writing talent is not done justice by his nervy stage persona, nor by his band's workmanlike, indie-rocking ways. It's like someone made TS Eliot the singer in Kinky Machine.

Kaiser Chiefs don't have any songs as good as "Going Missing". In fact, they're a bit short on good songs full stop, having precisely three: "Na Na Na Na Naa" (a celebratory romp about not liking stuff); "I Predict A Riot" (for its Canada-sized chorus, not to mention the reference to Yorkshire rugby team Old Leodiensian); and "Everyday I Love You Less" (which, let the record show, contains the line, "I can't believe once you and me did sex").

So how do you fill-out a headline set at Brixton Academy with three good songs? Why, with some old-fashioned showmanship, of course. The Kaisers are a slick turn tonight. After a dramatic entrance - which finds them staring out the audience to the unfortunate strains of Dire Straits' "Money for Nothing" (which mines the naff-but-enjoyable seam they've made their own) - they proceed to get a couple of their most dreadful songs out of the way early on, and then fill out the gaps between the decent ones with all sorts of capers.

It helps that singer Ricky Wilson is so aflush with confidence and charisma. You kind of hate the guy, but can't help staring at him. He's honed his flourishes: at one point tonight, he drags a girl onstage for a slow dance and renders her a weak-kneed, starstruck mess; at another, he introduces the band while crowd-surfing to the sound-desk. Of course, he does these same things every night. But authenticity was never part of the deal. In every song, there's a build-up before the chorus ("Wooooaaaaaahhh!"); every chorus repeats a line four times.

You know what? It's quite a laugh. Kaiser Chiefs will never change a life. But they're not boring like Bloc Party, or thick like Kasabian. In April 2006 they'll sell out Alexandra Palace over and over again. Take what you can from them.

by Niall O'Keeffe