IT was two minutes after the gig had ended, when the stereotypically inebriated overly-friendly chap from Glasgow standing a row in front, grabbed my hand in his slightly chubbier (and much sweatier) one, and slurred 'you don't get any better than that'.

Despite the fact his capacity to make decisions had curtailed to the point he nearly fell down the stairwell on exit, I was forced to agree.

Kasabian's show at the Phones 4 U Arena on Friday night was nothing short of glorious.

Proceedings begin with 'Bumblebee', initially acoustic, with twin frontmen Tom Meighan and Serge Pizzorno stood at opposite ends of the stage, as if subdued.

That ends the second the smack-you-in-the-face drop of one of the Leicester men's recent chart successes resounds around the sold-out venue.

A large video screen provides a countdown before the Glastonbury headliners appear on stage, then displaying buzz words to go along with each song, inspired by fifth album '48:13'.

'Shoot The Runner' and 'Underdog' follow, whipping the already adrenaline-fuelled crowd into a greater frenzy.

What sets Kasabian apart is the raw energy they bring on stage, the effortless indie-rock image that screams cool with every step.

Take any one from 'Eez Eh', 'Days Are Forgotten' or 'Club Foot' to prove my point.

It's X Factor in its truest sense, far removed from the commercial sanitation of Simon Cowell and cronies, and all carried off with Serge wearing skeleton pants.

The atmosphere borders on riotous at times, as flares are lit and thrown, and pockets of fans crash into each other in standing.

Every time Kasabian fire out another anthem, be it 'Processed Beats', 'Empire' or 'Rewind', another follows from a back catalogue that achieves the tricky combination of pleasing the masses and pushing boundaries.

The latter features a mash-up with nineties hit 'Word Up', a reminder versatility and skill sits beneath the image.

'Stevie', first violin-lead, then a chorus sung by thousands, and 'Vlad The Impaler' follow in the encore, before the curtain call of Lost Souls Forever, which starts, as ever, with Fatboy Slim's Praise You.

As fans pour into the night, pockets still sing LSF, not lost, but united by what they'd seen.

If I'd spotted my Scottish friend among the throng, I would have given his hand another shake.