In the mosh pit, 16-year-old uber-cool rock chicks are joined by 35-year-old lager-swelling blokes in singing along to every word, their camera phones constantly capturing the puppet-rock shapes thrown by singer Luke Pritchard.

Away from the crowd, the daddy of soul rock Paul Weller is joined by the tiny brother of pop punk, Little Chris, in nodding along to all of the wonderfully crafted pop tunes. Television cameras are rolling to capture this sold-out-in-an-hour gig. It’s a measure of just how big the Kooks have become and the broad fan base their debut album Inside In Inside Out has acquired.

From the Libertines to the Police to a touch of white reggae, the influences of the album seemed too hard to pin down for it to become a sure-fire million-selling record. Those who have got tickets to tonight’s gig only on the strength of ‘Naïve’ may well have been surprised by the spiky, punky attitude of ‘Sofa Song’, ‘Matchbox’ and’ See the World’ – the three songs that get the crowd bouncing along most aggressively.

Perhaps it’s this mixture of styles and fans that means the Kooks will never have the same kind of devotion as bands like the Libertines and Oasis. Butt their performance is intense and note-perfect (some use this as a basis for mocking the band’s music-school background – comparing them to a grown-up McFly). Rarely are gigs so joyful.

Although Pritchard takes the limelight, his limbs jerking around as if pulled by the crowd, the band pour through their set knowing the band is far bigger than the individual; the synergy is electric. The songs sound more cathartic live, more forceful, angry – perhaps helped by the ever-present blue fog that surrounds them on stage that adds a mysterial air to the performance. They’re already pulling off the trick that only the very best live acts – Muse, Arctic Monkeys, Kasabian – manage, and that is to make every gig feel like a homecoming. It is a commanding show, confirming that their sound is strong enough to headline festivals next summer.

Biggest hit ‘Naïve’ may be one of this reviewer’s least favourite songs on the album, but the sing-along it generates compares to Coldplay’s 'Yellow'. It’s their moment – if the band didn’t know they’d made it before now, then looking out over the sea of cameral phones and up at the packed balconies, every single head thrown back to belt out the chorus, then they know now. If the Kooks haven’t taken over the world by the end of next year, something will have gone terribly wrong.
(4/5)