If ever there was a case to prove that resurgent indie music is once again cool, Tuesday, April 11 was it.

The unbelievably long queue of eagerly-waiting music lovers clamouring to get into Madame JoJo's would have made even the most supercilious of rock afficionados passing the Soho club ask why they were not in amongst the scrum or at least on the guest list.

With more tight jeans and floppy hair then a Wham! reunion, the hoards had gathered to see indie ravers Klaxons, the newest in an emerging breed of electro-rock bands.

Famed for paying homage to old happy hardcore rave tunes, the band teetered between moments of unhinged brilliance and imminent implosion, as they thrashed out their Rapture-influenced pop amidst the deafening blasts of full-blown klaxon horns.

Having only been together since November, one might have been forgiven for thinking their back-catalogue would be a little light. Nevertheless, as the hardcore contingent of fans, complete with LCD flashing lollies and day-glow sticks, moshed to the dance-based rhythms and stabbing guitar riffs, it was clear they knew they were part of the ever-growing Klaxon bandwagon.

With the shadow of bands like the Rapture clouding the new wave of emerging rock acts, it would take something special to make the group stand apart, instead of falling into the abyss of derivation.

Klaxons, with their youthful vigour and sexually-charged annihilism, fit the desired mould precisely. Their songs diverge from the expected at every turn, without losing the inherent power and explosive energy present in every strum, snare crack and vocal gymnastic.

If you ever wondered what an indie band influenced by early Prodigy rave music would sound like, crossed with the freshness and vitality of contemporary hipsters, Klaxons are the answer to all your prayers.

Forget the drudgery of melancholic whiners like Bloc Party or Coldplay, or the solipsistic meanderings of nurdling tunesmiths Babyshambles, Klaxons rock and that's all that matters.

Tunes like Atlantis To Interzone, and a cover of rave classic The Bouncer were met with adulation and more klaxon hoots, and after a pulsating 45 minutes the predictable drum-kit body slam was a suitable end to another turn on the Klaxon wheel of success.