The Twang, ABC, Glasgow <!-- none onestar twostar threestar fourstar fivestar -->

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The Independent Culture

Given that Klaxons have already chosen this year to co-opt some of rave music's less laughable stylings and unleash the sound upon the nation once more, it stands to reason that a resurgence for baggy wouldn't be far behind. After all, both styles had their heyday a good 15 years ago, and that's more than enough time for their defining generation to pass the torch of remembrance to a younger crowd.

Where baggy was once inextricably linked with the city of Manchester, however, its newest epicentre seems to have moved further south. The Twang, the most fêted new proponents of the sound, hail from Birmingham, and a lot of what they do bears comparison to the work of another famous son of the city, The Streets' Mike Skinner.

What we're confronted with at this packed and nearly riotous gig is a spectacle that many people of a certain age might consider an unwelcome throwback to the worst excesses of a scene that spawned Britpop and lad culture.

The band themselves wear closely cropped hair, a ghostly communal pallor and, in the case of singer Phil Etheridge, a branded red tank top. They wag their fingers in the air and shuffle about with a clumsy groove, calling to mind the garish mugging of the Happy Mondays' frankly scary "vibes man" Bez.

Yet The Twang are proper revivalists, rather than a pop group with an affected tambourine-shaking strut. They give off the working-class zeal that made bands like the Sex Pistols, The Smiths, The Stone Roses and Oasis exciting, and they have a natural confidence, a swagger born of something more instinctive than simple musical careerism.

Of course, it's early days yet, and such attitude means nothing without a repertoire to back it up. Yet the quintet make a good first impression with this 45-minute set. The opening "The Neighbour" possesses one of the most insidiously infectious guitar riffs you'll hear this year, and the dynamic between Etheridge - half-singing, half-rapping - and the animated backing singer Martin Saunders is an interesting one.

Lyrically, they're unremarkable, with the "for the ladies" chorus of "I love ya / and I gotta find the balls to tell ya" of "Either Ways" only bettered by the repeated signature line of "Loosely Dancing": "I said oi!" Yet that's not the point, so much as the chiming, effects-laden guitars and cavernous, satisfying groove they build up. If they do turn out to be the new Stone Roses, we should rejoice.

Touring to 31 May ( www.thetwang.co.uk)

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