The centrepiece of the NME's 50th birthday celebrations is a chance to see three acute cases of melancholia. Starsailor are the rough-and-ready face of sadness, singer James Walsh wearing his overgrown haircut and baggy T-shirt with just-got-out-of-bed style. "I'm a little jet-lagged," he explains in a timid voice. But unease soon gives way to aggression as he lumbers around the stage, channelling his dissatisfaction into strident guitar chords. As Poor Misguided Fool begins, his quivering vocals are overwhelming, barely needing accompaniment, but Barry Westhead's keyboards enhance the edginess. Starsailor's debut album Love Lives Here already seems like a greatest hits collection.

All Ryan Adams wants is a bit of peace to do his acoustic thing. But instead he sits tapping his foot with irritation. "Don't mind me, 'cos I'm just here playing a fucking song," he spits. Once he actually starts singing, it is gorgeous, his rich voice wrapped around insightful lyrics. We are treated to five new songs, the fruits of a collaboration with a string section. Adams is an entertainer, chatting and sulking by turns, even yodelling through Lovesick Blues.

Travis are supremely confident. Fran Healy bounces up to the microphone, then it's headlong into melodic misery. From Why Does It Always Rain on Me to Sing, Travis continue to tread the same safe path that's made them one of the nation's favourite bands. Healy confesses to feeling like a Blue Peter presenter, unwittingly revealing the travesty of Travis - they've turned from scrabbling guitar wannabes into aural Ovaltine. The Fear and Blue Flaming Light are the only moments when Travis move out of the comfort zone and come alive. Every song is good, with the new Know Nothing, sung by bassist Dougie Payne, very Beatles circa 1963, but despite the singalongs you end up wishing they'd break free from their gilded cage.

Starsailor play the Astoria, London WC2 (08701 663 663) on Friday; Travis play Nottingham Arena (0115-989 5555), on February 25, then tour nationwide.