"Maroon 5? No way!" It was a female American voice, and the amazement contained therein at stumbling across a small, one-off show by this Los Angeles band, that spoke volumes. Maroon 5 may be mid-range Scala-fillers in Britain, but at home they're 10m-selling barnstormers. Tickets had long since been snapped up by London's US population - the under-21 portion of it, anyway - and in the absence of a support band, the hour before showtime was devoted to elbowing each other in a bid to stand closest to the stage.

The oddness of it is that while the 5 have the attributes of a brash, colourful band - the sales, the playboy singer who's dated Jessica Simpson, the friendship with Kanye West - they have achieved them without being brash or colourful. The world outside the Scala would be hard-pressed to name a single member, or recognise them in an identity parade of US "modern rock" bands. Inside the venue, it was possible to stand 20 yards away for an entire set, close enough to check out singer Adam Levine's stubble, and not register much.

It was simply that there was nothing much noteworthy about their slightly grungy, slightly funky guitar rock, or about the people producing it. Once a bar band called Kara's Flowers, they have clung to the perspective that adequate is preferable to amazing, and competence is enough to fill the charisma void.

So how did they get rid of those 10m copies of Songs About Jane? Simple: they've got a couple of soft-rock singles - This Love and She Will Be Loved - that tweak the melody-loving synapses. Previewed here, new album It Won't Be Soon Before Long seems to be equipped with the same thing. Here's to another 10m uninspiring sales.