LEATHER, as the fabric most consistently worn in rocks iconography, has never fallen from grace. But never more than now was rock so wrapped in rawhide. Hurrah! celebrate their new-found conviction in it, The Weather Prophets drape theirs from the gas pumps and Saint Julian is its apotheosis. Meanwhile tonight's attractions, The Chills are declaring their love for the gear, and The Mighty Lemon Drops can be spotted clad from head to toe in the stuff on the front cover of Out of Hand'. Anxious not to be out of step I come suitably attired, and ready to rock.

The Chills warm to their task in the support slot. Six years and ten different line-ups probably goes some way to accounting for their cross-bred sound. They can be lumpy, unfashioned, occasionally downright punky, or unexpectedly cultured, folky even. Their persistence will justly gain them reward.

Reviews of The Mighty Lemon Drops tend to be about as original as the band themselves and that has a certain poetic justice about it. Those pummelling drums, the driving bass, the ripping chords have an inescapable effect of deja entendu about them. Bunnymen with nobs on; screw up your eyes and Mac stands there centre stage gripping the mike in both hands, guitar swinging loosely round his neck. I'm sweating in my leather jacket. The problem is not simply that the Lemos lift from Crocodiles' and 'Heaven Up Here' so greedily, but that they manage to make the songs so characterless. I swear I heard the same numbers duplicated within minutes of each other, but there again listening to the Happy Head' album has the same effect on me. The truth is The Mighty Lemmings fulfil a need for their audience. Tonight is a sell-out because of the lack of class alternatives that fit the terms of their reference. How else can you account for their rise or that of The Mission? Next time I'll leave my leathers in the wardrobe, If there is a next time.