Βι¶ΉΤΌΕΔ

Everything about Neon Neon is so irritatingly cool - so slick, shiny and effortless. Gryff Rhys has been, for several years, the most laid back man in show business. Cate Timothy is a stone faced beauty, who has turned flicking the fringe from her eyes into a fascinating art form. As for Boom Bip... he doesn't need to do a thing - he's called Boom Bip for God's sake. They're all celebrating the life of John DeLorean - a playboy designer who had sex with superstars. Class.

And this is before Har Mar Superstar, possibly the finest specimen of man this planet has to offer this century, even takes to the stage.

So yeah, given there's so much cool, wonderful indifference onstage, it's a miracle this gig kicks off at all. But it does, in a most splendid way.

Playing a concept album in its entirety shouldn't work this well - but there's extra effort on show here - those songs have worked out and beefed up in preparation for this tour. 'Raquel' is now a sprawling, percussive monster, 'Trick for Treat' is an expected boot in the nadgers while 'I Lust You' is actually scaled down tonight, sounding more seductive than ever.

Clever visuals, John DeLorean's presence (he commentates throughout, "from above") and Gryff's encouraging 'APPLAUSE' signs keep us interested, not that our attention ever waned.

Oh, and then there's Har Mar. His hair and body looking worse/better than ever, he's hear to entertain, plain and simple. The guy can't even perform a simple bass solo without it turning into a vaguely sickening, strangely erotic ultra-performance. 'Sweat Shop' is his big moment, during which he takes on Shunda K of (superb) support act Yo Majesty. At this point, it's on.

A welcome reprise of 'Belfast' (the second greatest song about our city - and there has been quite a few) almost takes us home, before Boom Bip indulges himself with a solo, mega-rave.

And then they're gone. Probably for good. An act with it's roots in a decade most of us toddled through, who make pioneering, super-slinky music. Back to the Future, indeed.