Thursday 01/03/07 Keane @ Wembley Arena, London

It's a spine-chilling vision, but try to imagine yard-faced David Cameron impersonating the equally odious Bono on Stars in their Eyes and you'll have some idea of how tonight's show begins. Albeit ex-rehab and now a smartly detoxed, lithe young buck, Tom Chaplin's initial skip around the enormous Wembley stage veers uncomfortably close to robotic, embarrassed and very much Uncle-let-loose-on-the-dancefloor awkwardness. A relief then that Tom gradually relaxes into the performance, shedding the earlier going-through-the-motions feel.

Dosed up presumably only with sugary treats, Keane flail around like excitable pups, the piano playing seemingly aided by a spacehopper as a seat. And some endearing Peter Pan-esque skipping around the stage to 'Put it Behind You' and an early crowdpleaser 'Everybody Changes' thankfully really help to bury memories of the unsightly first five minutes. Possibly taking fashion tips from the apparently irresistible Russell Brand, Tom's 'jeans-in-a-can' lend themselves well to his ventures over to the raised podiums on each side of the stage. He performs a little dance with some mystic handwaving and a fair bit of emoting, hilariously but unintentionally looking quite like a writhing dancing girl in some Faliraki dive. (Gareth Gates spotted up in the pricey seats certainly seemed to enjoy it.)

'We Might As Well Be Strangers' and 'Bend and Break' from their flawless, posh-pop debut album 'Hopes and Fears' set the crowd afrenzy and allow Tom - to be fair, probably quite honestly - to perform like an Andrew Lloyd Webber pro, with pained expressions and stomach-spasm crouching. But after that high-octane fizz comes the inevitable weepy interlude. A Wembley-sized budget pays for a gigantic glowing ball to descend from the heavens and illuminate the band on mini stage in the middle of crowd. 'Your Eyes Open' is transformed from a fairly mediocre full electric version into a fairly mediocre acoustic version. But as with all their songs tonight, it's noteperfect, polished and genuine.

The highlight though, is the magnificently delicate 'Hamburg Song', which Tom humbly introduces as a track that songwriter Tim Rice-Oxley "wrote at a time when I disappeared up my own arse”. Cue mobile phones aloft. 'This is the Last Time' heralds their return to a bright, golden, shimmery main stage for more energetic dancing. Then comes the clanger - an inexplicable poetry recital (something from the film 'Memphis Belle') which undoes all the good work they'd done since those unforgettable, taste-violating first five minutes. A singalong 'Somewhere Only We Know' semi makes up for it and has the audience dubbed "the choir of the City of London" before Keane uncork a bubbly 'Is it any wonder?' A pretty stripped-down version of 'Atlantic' starts the encore, with 'Crystal ball' and the life-affirming 'Bedshaped' taking us to chucking out time.