You mourned the loss of Madchester then what happened? You got The Music… from Leeds. This clearly wasn’t sufficient; they’re northern, they have the driving bass lines and the swagger but they’re not quite mouthy enough. So, from Leicester, you got Kasabian, possibly the worst band in existence today. Thanks a bunch. Throw in to the mix this lot, Agent Blue – describing themselves as “baggy punk”, not quite a genre in itself yet but one of a few occasions where bands have given journalists too much of an easy ride. And they’re from Stoke-on-Trent but often get mistaken for Scousers. It’s a funny old world, this UK music scene.

You’re more likely to find Agent Blue admirably mouthing off about the undiscovered talent in Stoke than hear them harp on about how they’re the best band in the world and how off their heads on ‘shrooms they are. Tonight they’re without the coach-load of local kids who made their first London shows truly crazy events. This is bare bones Agent Blue as it should be – climb-on-speaker-stacks, prowl-around-in-the-audience, pure rock ‘n’ roll.

The don’t-give-a-fuck simplicity of wonderfully named 'Sex, Drugs And Rocks Through Your Window' really hits the mark but the plodding baggy of 'Crossbreed' is, to be honest, a little boring. DiS overhears someone remark about the similarity of 'Something Else'’s intro to Elastica’s 'Stutter' (didn’t we have this argument on the boards already?), but that’s OK ‘cos first single 'Snowhill' still sounds highly mighty live. it’s almost scary, pant-wetingly good – a dirty, distorted bass, Nic’s call to arms “yeah dance! and they’ll dance WITH YOU!”, then some proper rock screaming. Grrrreat.

Unfortunately they’ve found themselves in front of a tough crowd largely unfamiliar with the band. Infinity is a highly scenester venue and scenester London (which is burning, apparently) has seen this shtick already with stage invasion-friendly, rabble rousers The Others, while headliners Art Brut already have a climb-on-speaker-stacks, prowl-around-in-the-audience front man without the standoffish nature Nic Andrews sometimes gives off. Get on the stage, play for half-an-hour, get off again, don’t talk to anyone, go home. Hmm. Where’s the fun in that?

In retrospect, those first London gigs seemed like an easy ride. It’s only now – major deal in the bag, singles debuting higher up the charts – where Agent Blue seem like they really have something to prove. Tonight that dreaded north/south divide visibly got a little bit bigger.