I know Eric’s gonna say a few words about last night’s Klaxons show so I won’t go into too much detail. Let’s just say that the band—the usual trio plus a drummer—was really, really OK.

And let’s say that the nu rave will be soundtracked by post-punk. Because that’s what thes guys play—studied, intense, tight, sometimes dancable post-punk. Very British, a la Wire via Carter USM via the Futureheads. I haven’t checked out the album beyone “Golden Skans” and “Atlantis to Interzone,” so I couldn’t tell you whether they played most of it or not, though I’d venture they did. Whatever conspiratorial/metaphysical/sci-fi fantasies their lyrics may deal with was pretty much lost in the live setting; this was just a rock show. Klaxons seemed very comfortable on stage, throwing out plenty of heavily accented “Fank yoo Seea-ull”s between short, aggressive songs. They’re very good at what they do, but what they do is not terribly original or revolutionary, which is fine. I just can’t figure out what all the hype is about.

But the kids were loving it. The all-ages dancefloor was PACKED and heaving, sweat-drenched kids pogoin, throwing hands in the air, and even climbing on stage to dance for a song. One dude brought some neon glowsticky twirly things and was dutifully twirling them the entire show, but with the clubs house lights on (why?) and breaks between songs, it certainly didn’t feel like a dance party or anything even close to a rave. But then again, most of these teenagers were still toddling during the first iteration of rave, so how are they to know? For them cranky guitars and shouted falsetto vocals are what raving is all about.

If Klaxons can convince another generation that it’s OK to dance at rock shows, then more power to them. Last night it seemed like they did, ably. But if they’re gonna stick around beyond the first flush of media hype—if they’re gonna keep all these young fans they’ve swept up—they’re gonna have to be more than a one-trick pony.