Soulwax/Ladytron
Glasgow Garage

Those repulsed by the current ebola-like strain of agonisingly arch '80s revivalism may be suspicious of Ladytron's electro-pop game. And, really, you can hardly blame 'em. Four foil jumpsuit-clad pop-droids who 'party' (ie, stand Stalin-still and statue-faced), the 'Tron's pro-machine ethos has raised hackles for its art-school humourlessness.

But, as a crinkly DJ once pointed out, you can't argue with a cracking tune. And, despite the odds, Ladytron's nuclear-bunkerful of pulsating catchy songs is darn-near perfect. Like Roxy Music before them, the ludicrously youthful 'Tron deal in emotionally-anaesthetised romanticism - doomed passion trapped under banks of ice-cold synthmanship. 'He Took Her To A Movie' is a monochrome paean to a sexually uneasy relationship. 'Playgirl', meanwhile, simply sips cocktails with Kraftwerk and Visage; content in the knowledge that its creators are quietly morphing into the finest retro-futurist pop group we have.

Soulwax's passion for the decade that begat Level 42 is, on the other fingerless glove, a more boisterous beast. At times, their vigorous enthusiasm for all things '80s lends their already haphazard oeuvre a gimmicky clumsiness, with axe-maestro David Dewaele coaxing the intro to 'Tocatta' from his preposterous Casio guitar and singing brother Stephen puffing and strutting like an over-amorous chicken.

Everything about the Belgian superstars is just, well, wrong. From their wholesale appropriation of dad-chic (bad suits, kipper ties et al) to their brazen insistence that each of their fave music styles is - however inappropriately - taken along for the ride, Soulwax give logic a wedgie at every given opportunity. How then, they manage to completely evade the embarrassment chute, it - like JJ72 - one of pop's great conundrums. Behold the way electro-funk stormer 'Proverbial Pants' (culled, like most of last night's set, from last year's ecstatically eclectic 'Much Against Everyone's Advice') is bookended by a fug of mystical, 'Kashmir' - style effects. Then there's the way 'Cut Some Slack' pulls old-skool metal faces before dissolving into a r-e-a-l-l-y s-l-o-w version of Armand Van Helden's 'Koochie'. Even 'token ballad' 'When Logics Die' spikes its AOR syrup with a shot of techno-bolstered acidity.

Confused? Well, exactly. The Belgian pop bombardiers are not here to be understood. They are here, simply, to remind us how fun pop music can be. And for that, at the very least, Soulwax should be treasured.

Sarah Dempster