KASABIAN - Kasabian

Madchester, act two. The year was 2004. Oasis, by then reduced to a cover band of themselves, were torn between the urge to shake things up a bit (handing production of the new album to Death in Vegas) and the fear of blowing it completely (Death in Vegas sent packing after just a few weeks); meanwhile, Ian Brown kept trotting out old Stone Roses songs live and watched enviously as the Pixies reunited, imagining how much money they must be raking in. Too bad the other former members of his old band wanted nothing to do with him, leaving poor Ian stuck putting out yet another forgettable solo album. Other bands, like Inspiral Carpets or the more recent Rain Band, looked more like promises that were never kept. Faced with this apocalyptic scenario (or near enough), a Manchester teetering on the edge of musical oblivion badly needed fresh blood, someone capable of reviving the sound that, between the '80s and '90s, had made it the rock capital of the world. Someone able to breathe new life into the glorious legend of Madchester.

Now, this introduction would have been perfect for presenting the self-titled debut album by Kasabian. Except I have to scrap all of it, because Kasabian are from Leicester. Leicester! What a mad thing! It's like a band from Reggio Emilia deciding to play Neapolitan songs. And I was so sure they were from there. Because these Kasabian are quite simply the best Manchester band not from Manchester to emerge in a long, long time. It was all perfect, I would have closed the circle beautifully, and now I have to rethink everything. Oh well, maybe I should just start talking about the record?

The record is arrogant. You heard that right, arrogant. Because it takes pleasure in showing off in front of every band that has recently flirted with the Mancunian sound: "Club Foot" makes a mockery of anything The Music ever did, "Reason Is Treason" is the track Black Rebel Motorcycle Club can't (anymore) write, and Cooper Temple Clause would sell a kidney to have an "LSF" in their otherwise excellent catalogue.

Amid all this, there are echoes both of the already-mentioned Oasis and Stone Roses, as well as Happy Mondays (another key band of the Manchester that was) and above all Primal Scream in the moments when they flirt with electronics. Kasabian, despite a few forgivable slips especially towards the end, deliver a tough, energetic, chest-beating record, cocky in just the right measure.

Beyond the standard talking points, the influences and the plans for the future, it's worth stressing that what really convinces here are the songs themselves: solid, well played, and imbued with that typically authoritative swagger, that don't-have-to-ask attitude that earned the Gallagher brothers so many fans a decade earlier. The impression is that Tom Meighan and co. still have plenty left in the tank: if they manage not to lose their way like so many before them, who knows, maybe by 2014 we'll see a commemorative DVD of this brilliant debut.

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19/12/2006