I've always believed in the motto that if you're unsure about a band on record, the easiest way of making your mind up is to go and see them live. So, off I go to see Leicester five-piece Kyte. Although debut single 'Planet' displayed some obvious potential, it didn't quite live up to the hype, something that is ratified here by way of the fact that it is by far the weakest of Kyte's five-song set this evening. However, all that pales into insignificance by the time second song 'Ghosts' lifts its head above the stars, and any previous doubts are long forgotten by the time 'These Tales Of Our Stay' closes the set.

Think Jeniferever at their most incisive or the floating dynamics of Hammock. Whisper it, but there are even elements of early-day Sigur Rós before their name became synonymous with lift music and office gatherings. The vocals soar impressively, while all kinds of instrumentation from swooping guitars to hypnotic xylophones cascade each piece like an audio volcano. This Kyte looks set to fly high for some time - for once the pre-match bluster is seemingly justified.

Sandwiched between the opening salvo of ambient post-rock electronica and tonight’s headliners, quite uncomfortably, is Jeremy Warmsley. What he's doing on a bill such as this is anyone's guess; at times he seems quietly unsure himself. Despite the vacant stares around the room, Warmsley at least gives a solid performance that given the right setting would perhaps have gone down a treat. Just not here and now.

I'm one of the few who's yet to be wholly convinced by Maps. James Chapman's music is something that can best be described as being "pleasant" and "competent" rather than "exciting" or "invigorating". Sure, We Can Create is one of those records that sounds perfect dependent on the mood, but that usually doesn't coincide with a night on the town or indeed anything that involves too much exercise or motion of the lower half of the body.

Live, though, there is a lot more happening, not least due to the fact that Chapman has boosted the ranks to a five-piece, filling out the Maps sound accordingly. What is also worth mentioning is the fact there are no hissy fits here, none of this ‘my band’ shenanigans from Chapman, who instead is just as happy with his head down behind a keyboard, letting one of the hired hands take centre stage.

With the album pretty much played in full, the Maps live experience is pretty much as you'd expect it to be, plus a little more beef around the edges. Visually it's about as exciting as five men and various machines ever can be, although the flashing projector behind does at least offer something else to stare at once in a while.

By the end of it all I'm slightly more understanding of their widening appeal - but still can't help thinking that this kind of thing would work so much better in a tiny, darkened club after midnight. The jury has retired.