Nathan Willett doesn’t belong here. This venue, this many people, these balconies: everything’s too grand.

Nathan’s home is a bar beside a four-lane freeway, a dusty jukebox in the corner with nothing but Springsteen and Cash on rotation and a whiskey on the counter; nobody for company but a barkeep past his clocking-off hour and a guy that never really speaks, simply mumbling something about Taxi under his breath over and over and over. He never asked for ice in his sourmash; it’s all but melted now, but still, he never asked. The bowl of salted nuts has been emptied. Dinner was on the table two hours ago. She won’t be up when he gets home.

This is where his soul swells, where his heart beats in perfect time with the hum of passing freewheelers. This is where a flickering neon sign – some brand of lager he’s never bothered to taste – drives the flies circling the ceiling fans wild; this is where his voice unearths its spirit. Nathan before a rippling wave of applause seems out of his depth; his voice may fill Shepherd’s Bush Empire this evening, and his Cold War Kids colleagues may wander the venue’s stage like cats pacing around an owners feet as they open another tin of meat ‘n’ jelly, bubbling with anticipation for what may pan out over the year, but Nathan nevertheless seems unready for such salubrious surroundings. Supporting Clap Your Hands Say Yeah they may be, but Cold War Kids are already A Big Deal. It all seems a little too sudden.

Consequently, not every song aired is a success – the band’s debut album is a mixed affair (read the review), and this imbalance translates to a live setting with little attempt to embellish material rooted in blues-pumping roadside boozers – but the front some rows lap up everything the Californian quartet offer their way. ‘Hang Me Out To Dry’ is, predictably, met with the loudest roar of recognition, but with Robbers & Cowards, the aforementioned debut, riding high in the albums chart, expect other hits to follow in their breakthrough single’s wake.

When Cold War Kids hit their stride they’re hugely enjoyable – their music isn’t needlessly complex and, despite being entirely derivative of a thousand bands before them that never made it out of the bars'n'clubs circuit, they successfully hold the previously indifferent attendee’s attention. But this only serves to highlight their current failing: that they’ve not quality songs enough to warrant playing rooms as large as tonight’s, however well they disguise this shortcoming with the introduction of guest musicians.

Come album two it’s entirely probably that Nathan and his merry purveyors of upbeat indie-blues will have a set-list worthy of venues bearing names likes ‘Empire’ and ‘Arena’ (and other magazine titles, possibly), but for the time being they’d be well-advised to stick a few more shots on the tab and allow a little more inspiration soak into their skin. They’re a good band a year away from being brilliant, given the right kind of bed, or bar, to root in.