It must be dreadfully disappointing being an up-and-coming pop group sometimes. The Isles are putting on a brave face, but they must be wondering why they travelled 3,400 miles to Sheffield for a crowd so small and nonchalant they could be waiting for a mid-morning Supertram.

And it was all going so well for the New York four-piece. First they did the cool thing and eschewed US labels in favour of Melodic, based in Manchester, home of their idols. Then came the debut album Perfumed Lands, which brought comparisons to the Smiths, Echo & the Bunnymen and - well, mainly the Smiths, actually.

Now this: a dead room on a parky Monday night. But can they rise to the challenge? If you like the album - a rather enchanting, if derivative, collection of jangles and harmonies, sung in a doleful Manc accent - then you may well go away happy. The live Isles experience replicates the record very neatly. The woven vocals of Summer Loans induce smiles even out of season, and Major Arcana rips off Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now to great effect. The bouncy bass lines are particularly magnificent throughout.

But if the band are going to schlep all this way, they might do a little bit more with it. Many of the lyrics lend themselves to drama, but are played frustratingly straight. "I'd be dead but there's nothing worth dying for," laments singer Andrew Geller at one point, invoking all the agony of a man whose bath has run cold without him noticing.

Despite all this, there are moments of pizzazz, such as the uptempo closing track We Give a Receipt, We Take a Receipt. A storming, drum-and-bass-heavy ditty that is over and done with in less than two minutes, it makes you glad they came the distance.