The Sleepy Jackson have a reputation as a band whose live shows never do justice to their records. Mainman Luke Steele has now sacked no fewer than three backing bands - only drummer Malcolm Clark remains from the line-up that toured to promote 2003's well-received Lovers. Here, Steele begins with an elaborate tale of how he bought himself a £3,500 guitar to celebrate his forthcoming marriage to the statuesque blonde who appears on the new album, Personality. "You're the first people to hear that," he says.

With a voice like a parody of early Dylan and a curiously blow-dried bouffant that could have adorned Elvis's corpse, Steele looks like a life-size ventriloquist's dummy. The music sounds like melodically slanted Americana - there are echoes of the Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev, and guitars that are somehow made to sound like Beach Boys backing vocals.

But the gig is an uneven affair; up and down faster than Steele's hair-trigger moods. Newie Devil Was in My Yard is a supernaturally catchy alt.pop song; oldie Good Dancers has the fantasy feel of Lennon's Cloud 9 Dream. But Steele's persistent messing with the guitars affects impetus, and his amplifier spontaneously combusts. A blown fuse is replaced and they roar into a pulverising rocker. Jaws drop at glimpses of the band that the Sleepy Jackson continually threaten to become, but Steele's work is far from done.

· At King Tut's, Glasgow, tonight. Box office: 0870 169 0100. Then touring.