ALL hail the New Musical Express's iconoclastic attempt to prove that there's fresh life beyond the dreary Establishment confines of the Brit Awards . . . but today's young bands, cuh. They don't take the time to digest their musical influences after having consumed them, do they? Take Heavy Stereo. Please. Someone. Soon.

Heavy Stereo demonstrated how Oasis would sound if they'd modelled themselves on Humble Pie rather than the Beatles, ie, craptrocious.

Fluffy? Four giggly young women trying to be a grunge-era Girlschool. But oh lardy, oh lardy, that grunge bandwagon thing done gone and had its wheels fall off, mama.

Surely the bill-topping Bluetones would redeem the evening by proving that they're worth all the extravagant music-press praise heaped upon their heads? For the Bluetones are poised to become this year's latest mega-selling Blur-style Britpop sensation, yes?

Well, Thursday's indie-kid audience certainly leapt about enthusiastically for them. But that doesn't mean that the Bluetones are any good. Anyone for a warmed-over bucket of Charlatans' scrapings? Gads, no. Oh - and the Bluetones' vocalist displays the emollient self-regard of Rigsby, the reptilian landlord in TV's Rising Damp. Yecch.

Thankfully, Sweden's curious Cardigans were weirdly tunetastic and truly fab. The Cardigans are Boney M gone new wave. They have dined with thoughtful thoroughness at pop's banqueting table.

Regard them and know that you shouldn't swallow everything that's marketed as the future of pop.