The old adage says that a pop song is only truly popular once postmen are heard whistling it, but the approbation of bar staff isn't to be sniffed at either. Such is the extent to which the Wannadies' You and Me Song has permeated the national consciousness. As its lilting verses tease inevitably towards that turbo-powered refrain, Dingwalls' entire complement of pint-pullers are mouthing along, word-perfect. No more maddeningly addictive than many other Wannadies tunes, it helps that You and Me Song is currently unavoidable due to its presence on a shampoo commercial, following a star turn on the Romeo and Juliet film soundtrack.

The Wannadies may be an advertising executive's dream, but this year could finally see the Swedish quintet reap the benefits of such doughty product placement and sell some records. They are the perfect postmodern pop band: an attractive male/female sparring duo lead their super-competent appropriation of punk's melodic ethos, though they downplay the visceral extremes that might offend people. It helps that most of the crowd tonight are either too young or square (or both) to have heard of the bands the Wannadies so adeptly rip-off - primarily the Pixies.

Providing you're not expecting the reinvention of the wheel, none of this is a problem. Like the Dandy Warhols, the Wannadies have resynthesised new-wave pop for a new generation, but do so with a good deal more charm than their American contemporaries. Indeed, there are few bands who could get away with a song as gauche as Shorty, in which Par Wiksten bemoans the lot of a small man fatally attracted to tall women, or as blatant as Hit, which brings the friendly mosh-pit to the point of collapse. Of course, that could have been because the audience remember it from a certain debit card commercial last year.