When Lovefoxx, the flustered frontwoman of Brazilian electropop troupe CSS raced into the foyer of the Grosvenor at 9.30pm and begged to be allowed in, you suspected that — against all predictions — the Mercury might go to her boyfriend’s band. But if she was propelled here by a weird premonition, she neglected to tell her beloved Simon Taylor-Davis and the rest of the Klaxons. Shocked barely covers it. Despite the plastercast around broken leg, bassist Jamie Reynolds appeared to leap on stage just as effortlessly as he fell off it in France six weeks ago, then he proceeded to blurt, “This really is too much.” This time last year, the South London trio were in the studio, adjourning from the recording of Myths of the Near Future in order to watch the Arctic Monkeys receiving their prize.

Their shock was our shock too. When Jools Holland — usually the inscrutably impartial lover of all music, every note of it — lost his composure after Amy Winehouse’s exquisite performance, we thought the night would be hers. As the applause for her version of Love is a Loser’s Game faded, he frothed with an abandon conspicuously missing after turns from, say, Fionn Regan and The View.

Away from the flashbulbs, you imagined Mercury chair and posh rock Yoda Simon Frith taking a perverse delight in steering the panel away from Winehouse’s Back to Black — just as he did in previous years when the likes of Roni Size and M People won the Mercury. But we shouldn’t begrudge the Klaxons their moment. For its air of gonzoid pop positivism and manic otherworldly energy, Myths of the Near Future is a great debut album. But if it really is all about the songs, then the fact that Winehouse’s album of whip-smart confessional modern soul classics didn’t win seems absolutely bizarre.

As for the Klaxons, they should take their lead from past winners like Arctic Monkeys and PJ Harvey, who chose not take their victories too seriously or dwell on what it all meant. The early signs, at any rate, are good. Asked how they were going to spend the £20,000 cheque, Taylor-Davis claimed they would plough it into funding for telepathic research — something about which his girlfriend would already appear to know a thing or two.

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