Despite Dior Homme designer Hedi Slimane's best efforts, the world of British indie isn't a stylish one. A glance at Arctic Monkeys is enough to see that it's dominated by scruffy lads who wouldn't stand out in a football crowd. Which makes the Long Blondes something of a vision from heaven. Singer Kate Jackson has already appeared in the Guardian's style pages, touting a look - pencil skirts, neck scarves and high-heeled shoes - that is part 1970s Joan Jett, part 1950s secretary. Bassist Reenie revels in a leopard print dress, guitarist Emma Chaplin has painted her nails the same deep red as her guitar, and even the two boys seem to have taken unprecedented care over their trousers.

What the Long Blondes have realised is that great pop bands pay as close attention to their clothes as to their chords. Admittedly, you're not always convinced that the music gets an equal share of original thinking: A Knife for the Girls sounds oddly anonymous, and there's a lot of Le Tigre about the spirited ranting of Separated by Motorways and Autonomy Boy. That said, Autonomy Boy does reveal one of the Long Blondes strengths: Dorian Cox's dischord-heavy guitar work, which repeatedly ignites sparks of surprise.

Their other strength is Jackson herself. She's a fabulous frontwoman, icily glamorous, with a winning repertoire of coquettish stage moves. It's not easy to decipher her lyrics through her slightly squawky vocals, but lines that do emerge clear are spiked with feminist attitude. Once and Never Again, their best song, is a thrilling message of empowerment to a 19-year-old girl: "You don't need a boyfriend," Jackson counsels, before offering to "show you the ropes". It brings 1960s girl-group pop bang up to date, and totally lives up to that image.

· At the Astoria, London WC2 (020-7344 0044), on February 19. Then touring