After an interlude of light classical music had been played over the public address system, four shadowy figures arrived on stage and were immediately enveloped in a thunderstorm of thick, distorted sound and violently flashing lights.

They hammered through If You Found This It’s Probably Too Late, a startling new song that lasted for all of 90 seconds. Then without drawing breath they piled into their new single, Brianstorm, another bone-rattling riff, only this time they were accompanied by the massed voices of the crowd, who greeted the number, which is not released until next Monday, like a long-loved favourite.

Welcome back, then, Arctic Monkeys.

Except it makes no sense to talk about Arctic Monkeys “coming back”. The band from Sheffield have not been out of the spotlight since they released their first album, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, little more than a year ago, and have continued to scoop up accolades and awards right up to the announcement that their second album, Favourite Worst Nightmare, is due to be released on April 23.

Far from any signs of a backlash on the horizon, early reactions to the new songs have been universally favourable. And yesterday at the Guildhall in Southampton they made a low-key, but high-energy start to their latest British tour. Such is their popularity that they could have sold out the 1,700-capacity venue five or maybe ten times, and there will be arena dates later on in the summer.

But the band have not let the speed of their success go to their heads. It is good news that they have produced another album so quickly after the first, and resisted the temptation to retreat into a cocoon of superstardom, tempting though it must be. But it was bad news that they couldn’t get a better sound out of this venue.

As they moved on to more familiar territory with Still Take You Home, Dancing Shoes and When The Sun Goes Down, the sound actually seemed to deteriorate. The band sprayed the staccato riffs like machinegun bullets, and Alex Turner’s superfluent lyrics began turning into tongue-twisters.

It was great that they had so much energy to spare, but why the tearing hurry? It wasn’t the best conditions for responding to new songs and Teddy Picker, with its dense lyric and vaudeville-flavoured riff, got an uncertain reception.

But Fluorescent Adolescent, with its almost-reggae rhythm, was a much better gambit. “The boy’s a slag/The best you ever had,” Turner sang, and by the time he got to the last chorus the crowd had almost learnt the words to it too.

Mardy Bum from the first album was welcomed with a huge cheer, but Turner reeled the song off without much sense of occasion, pausing towards the end to fire off a couple of comments to people who were waving at him from the crowd. This House is a Circus was another bold new song with a twitchy, tugging rhythm, while If You were There, Beware rocked along fiercely.

Clearly, whatever happens with the new album, there was no question of a failure of nerve or imagination. But for a live presentation incorporating so many new songs, it was still a bit rough and ready at this stage.

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