Maximo Park, Academy, Glasgow <!-- none onestar twostar threestar fourstar fivestar -->

Rock star poses from Mr Smith

Armed with a coveted slot on the NME Awards Tour and a Mercury music prize nomination for the debut album A Certain Trigger last year, it's no surprise to find Maxïmo Park still reaping the rewards. These come in the form of a sold-out venue for the first night of their latest UK tour and a voracious crowd who cheer loudly in acknowledgement of every released track.

As the quintet from Newcastle-upon-Tyne and its environs hurtle ever closer to the mainstream, however, it has become fairly obvious that that's where they always belonged. The Park are not a band whose originality should be marvelled at - quite the opposite, in fact; spotting the obvious influence can be a fun game to while away some time during one of their shows.

Yet unlike many dreary copyists who regurgitate pale versions of their own record collections and hope they get away with it, it's hard to actively dislike Maxïmo Park. Their live show is fiercely energetic - due, in most part, to the almost worrying efforts of singer Paul Smith - and the often explicit vocal nods to Morrissey or Jarvis Cocker, and riffs that are all too reminiscent of Franz Ferdinand or Green Day, are jumbled together in such a manner that the band retain some sort of cohesion.

Indeed, this magpie assortment of proudly worn influences is, to all intents, the band's signature style.

It's fair to say their fans don't care much one way or the other. The crowd are largely younger, of around undergraduate age, although quite a few older heads have gathered, doubtless getting quite into the band now they've been filtered through the time-worn battlefield of the youth market and emerged with their reputation forged. From Maxïmo Park to the Killers and beyond, sticking around for the long haul means appealing to all ages.

As such, Smith and the others aren't particularly challenging, but they do put on a spectacle filled with light and movement and, on occasion, some memorable pop hooks. Against a simple but vibrant background of what look like large, multi-coloured volume-level monitors (the band do remark on how much they like their new lights), Smith pulls off some dynamic and utterly irony-stretching rock star poses.

While the others appear almost shy and studious in the background - only the youthful-looking keyboard player Lukas Wooler strikes up any additional conversation with the crowd and pops a few hopeful dance moves - Smith leaps, stamps, robot dances, and adopts the odd incredulous legs-akimbo strut. It's hard to decide whether he looks foolish or great, but the fans may agree on the latter.

For all its recycling, the music is also generally good and sometimes great. Occasionally their less-than-imaginative post-punk revival shtick is a little grating, as most current big-budget retreads of a style built on penury and a lack of musical fluency must inevitably be. In this respect, a cover of John Lennon's "Isolation" - which sounds more like a pale imitation of the Joy Division song of the same name - is particularly baffling and uninspiring, but all it takes is one of the fine anthems that Maxïmo Park have built their name on to dispel such minor complaints.

The incessantly memorable "you set me up, to just knock me down" line in "Graffiti" or the song "Kiss You Better" can't help but raise a smile, while "The Coast is Always Changing" is their inevitable zenith, a near-perfect radio song with minimal lyrical meaning but pathos in spades. The odd works-in-progress premiered here, such as the quirky punk-funk of "Five Times Five is Twenty-Five", seem to suggest the band is looking to add to such a commendable repertoire, and at the same time stretch for the crucial maturity they need to keep up with their fanbase as they grow older.