Well, this is an odd one, and no mistake. The Skyscape is a large building not unlike a huge Homebase warehouse stuck alongside the Millennium Dome.
Usually, it's the venue for the specially commissioned Blackadder film, but this week it's home to a few TV recording sessions, capturing for foreign viewers the best of British. Unfortunately, the best have not been able to make it, so instead, they're making do with bands like Five, Westlife, The Bluetones and Space. And, tonight, this peculiar assortment.
To kick off proceedings, we have a couple of bands with such devoted fanbases, it's easy to forget at their gigs that the rest of the world couldn't give a monkey's. Mansun, all unfortunate hair and Status Quo riffage, knock out their half an hour without incident or interest, a dedicated few pogoing for all they're worth.
They're swiftly followed by Placebo, who thrash into their goth-punk as if their fifteen minutes weren't assuredly up. Bald Brian Molko greets us with "Welcome to the Terrordome!" you just know he thought it would be a cool thing to say earlier in the week and then embarrasses all good people by suggesting that the Dome should be converted into a huge base for homeless people. Presumably London needs a kind of 'homeless ghetto', eh Bri? Good thinking.
Many are complaining about the venue's lack of atmosphere, but having been designed for perfect sightlines and crystal clear acoustics it's head and shoulders above the likes of Wembley Arena. It's the bands' fault they can't generate more than a smattering of ambience in the place.
And who turns it round? It sounds unlikely, but the band who inject a bit of life in to the proceedings is Toploader. OK, their best song might be someone else's ('Dancing In The Moonlight' is a sturdy reproduction of an old King Harvest hit), and the rest of them sound like they belong to other people, but the energy they put in means more to this crowd than the earlier bands' studied cool. Most of them came to see Reef, after all.
Coldplay are next, and are the only band on the bill whose songs are more than skin deep. Their easy blend of Radiohead at their most accessible and 'A Storm In Heaven'-era Verve atmospherics creates the biggest, most impressive sound of the night, and hearing their tender songs burst to life makes the venue feel warm and pleasant.
Reef, however, are a wake-up call. The Somerset boys are skilled and adept musicians without Gary Stringer, they'd sound uncannily like Ocean Colour Scene on fast forward and their no-nonsense cider boogie is the highlight for most of the crowd tonight. Gaz makes a very strange noise and no mistake, a bizarre throaty gargle like Mick Jagger with a headcold, but he's also their stamp of individuality, and not even his silly wobbly dancing breaks the spell.
Though it looked ominous at the beginning, it came out good in the end. Let's hope Japan's TV viewers enjoy it.
