Fischerspooner

It's just seconds away from Cynthia's, where FC Kahuna hold their uber-fashionable, Gigolo-approved 20th Century Body Rockers night, and it seems like no coincidence. The unisex toilets sum it all up.

Tonight is all about the beautiful people, all desperate for a glimpse of the much talked-about Fischerspooner live experience. I'm expecting something big, something extravagant, something that's going to justify the £20 I paid for my ticket.

Unusually, there is no support act tonight. DJ Hell is spinning before and after the main act, but his sexy robo-disco music is not suited to this concert environment. Nobody is dancing, preferring instead to pose by the bar, or slowly fill the main room to bursting point.

So we wait... and wait. As the main area grows increasingly cramped and sweaty, two giant screens give us a glimpse of dancers getting tarted up backstage. But after about two hours of this teasing I'm really, really ready for the band to come on.

When they finally do, the crowd goes suitably nuts to the opening strains of Invisible. Then Casey starts singing. Sorry - miming. Taking a closer look stagewards it becomes apparent that there are no keyboards, sequencers or computers present.

Warren Fischer (a.k.a. The Man Behind The Music) is nowhere to be seen. It starts to dawn on me that I'm watching a bunch of people prance about to a backing track. It also dawns on me that perhaps this is the point.

There is a lot of talk about the new wave of electropop acts having bags of personality and being full of charisma, but acts like Miss Kittin and The Hacker, Vitalic and Adult, although great live, don't live up to this claim. Not by Fischerspooner's standards anyway.

The lip-synching, the dance routines, the pyrotechnics - they really do put on a show. Vegas-style dancers, costume changes, glitter bombs and a huge fan all put in an appearance. One member of the group even rushes to the front of the stage and vomits fake blood over himself! This is not about music, this is pure theatre. The fact that they play Emerge twice at the end just so they can wear different outfits says it all.

As they leave the stage, the venue empties almost immediately, giving the impression that, although the show was spectacular, the music was just a vehicle for it. Nobody dances to DJ Hell.

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