Not long off the flight back from Vegas and I am stood next to James Endeacott watching his latest signing The Metros on a bust Saturday night at The Barfly. The Peckham tearaways haven't been able to bring all of their crowd up from south of the river but there are enough cute girls dancing down the front to let you know everything is alright. And could it fail to be, they exude such charm and charisma, the last time I saw a frontman play up to the crowd like this was when Alex Turner first realised he had something special. I love their cheek. All of the band are supporting baseball caps that they have picked up at the market a couple of hours ago; they look even more like piss taking urchins than ever. But the music is spot on. the jet lag evaporates beneath the kind of loose rhythms and wit that haven't graced a London stage since Ian Dury passed away.