Mystery Jets use a rowdy Manchester to pitch for pop greatness

That album was a fair old leap from their debut, Making Dens and it cut away some of the Londoners’ weirder, proggier leanings, but it paid off spectacularly; Twenty One is a modern pop classic. Since then, the Jets have flattered to deceive. They tried - understandably - to recapture the winning formula on their third LP, Serotonin, but the law of diminishing returns kicked in - hard. Radlands followed and saw them both record in and take their cues from America, but it was only occasionally brilliant, and largely by-the-numbers. Last month’s Curve of the Earth finally sees them take the step towards sincerity that perhaps they should have jumped at years ago. It seems like it was the right call, because there’s certainly nothing throwaway about the new cuts tonight (Manchester Gorilla, 19 February).

I haven’t seen Mystery Jets headline their own show in a good long while - they were still out in support of Twenty One last time, and I was still young enough to get into what was an Underage Festival-inspired under-18 gig - and my expectations were fairly modest ahead of time. Wrongly so. This is the best I’ve ever seen them. Gorilla’s position in the guts of a railway arch hardly lends itself to sumptuous acoustics but the band sound so punchy and sharp and clean; fresh tracks like “Telomere” and “Bubble Gum” bring with them the brooding, sweeping heft that they carry on record. “Blood Red Balloon”, a real highlight, has Will Rees reeling off freewheeling guitar licks that should be cheesy, but come over anything but.

Radlands seems to have more or less been swept under the carpet, but a couple of Serotonin cuts, to the band’s credit, seem a little looser and surer than before, “Flash a Hungry Smile” especially. Then, of course, there’s Twenty One to be mined for gems, and boy, do they find them. This is a textbook Friday night Manchester crowd; plenty boozy and rowdier still. “Half in Love with Elizabeth”, a pints-in-the-air, football-hooligan singalong, is tailor-made for the occasion. Plus, the audience more than make up for the lack of Laura Marling on “Young Love” - remember when she used to sound subtly Mockney, rather than weather-worn Yank?

Set closer “Alice Springs” reaffirms my dim view of Serotonin on record - it tries to be epic but barely rises above non-entity status - but when they return for an encore that this rapturous crowd would’ve physically dragged them back to the stage for, that drum machine intro to “Two Doors Down” kicks in, and the band are confident enough to leave the first verse to the congregation. And that’s what I liked about Mystery Jets tonight; they oozed poise. They’re heading for that next level, the one that Twenty One should’ve given them the self-assuredness to spring for years ago. Better late than never.