The best thing about the NME is its modest lack of hyperbole and speaking clock-like accuracy.

Guess which of these it labelled "Britain's Favourite New Band: a) We Are Scientists? b) Maximo Park? or c) the band currently selling two in every five albums in the UK?

To be fair, the night's headliners the correct answer b) would usually have been a sensible choice, as the Mercury Music Prize-nominated Geordies were causing a stir last year.

It still would have been poor, however, as their keyboard-heavy dance-rock lacked the glamour of The Killers or the melodic passion of The Smiths, who you sense they, really, really want to be.

Being steamrollered by the Arctic Monkeys didn't help. By the time Maximo came on, there were more empty seats than at a Middlesbrough match.

South Yorkshire's finest appear to be making the biggest impact on UK pop music in a decade.

Refreshingly, the Monkeys are far removed from the Britpop years of Oasis, whose throne they are about to nick.

Unlike the Gallaghers, the post-punk spat out by the Monkeys doesn't even try to reach out to people who only buy albums at Christmas.

They play like lead singer Alex Turner communicates, each compliment coming wrapped inside the knuckles of sarcasm, which then punches you in the face.

It's often exhilarating and reached a peak during the wonderfully spiteful foot-stomper Fake Tales Of San Francisco.

Are they worth the hype? Yes. Do they seem to care? No. And that's what makes them great.