Before tonight, I'd only ever been able to catch fleeting glimpses of Fields. The end of their set at last year's Leeds Festival, and a few songs when they supported Bloc Party on their recent tour (where even then, they outshone the headliner) is all I had to judge them by. Frankly, I was more than impressed by their quiet/loud dream pop theatrics and fully expected their debut album to be nothing short of fantastic.

Comparisons to Keane and Captain (on this very website, no less) had me worried, but there was really no need: their Leadmill set tonight confirms Fields are on a different planet to bands like those, a planet where two voices can exist in perfect harmony with one another, where guitars pick out delicate melodies before exploding in a wall of sound. And, come on, can you imagine po-faced fatty Chaplin improvising the theme tune from Postman Pat? Nah, me neither.

But there is a serious side to Fields, make no mistake about that. The concentration on the faces of guitarists Nick Peill and Jamie Putnam as they conspire to produce another barrage of raw feedback betrays it. Peill almost loses his footing as he vigorously strums his acoustic; another wave of noise rushes from the stage into our ears - smiles form, people are dancing. The more reserved are just nodding, but that's cool too. Once they get into their stride, Fields are undeniable.

These are still pop songs, despite the array of pedals and occasional forays into white noise territory: the harmonies between Peill and Icelandic keyboard player Thorunn Antonia ensure they could never be anything else. That's a fine line to tread, and when they fall between the two stools it's incredibly frustrating. For every 'Song For The Fields' and 'If You Fail We All Fail', there's a 'You Don't Need This Song (To Fix Your Broken Heart)'; songs that never really get going and leave me feeling cold. That's a shame, because at their best Fields have the ability to set my heart on fire.

Photograph by Gary Wolstenholme