What ACR lacked in commercial success, they made up for in critical acclaim. They've been cited as one of the most influential acts to come out of the punk years -- moving a luminary like Andrew Weatherall to allegedly describe them as his favourite band of all time.

Their influence can be keenly felt in the output of bands such as The Rapture, LCD Soundsystem, Radio 4 and Franz Ferdinand. The peculiar appeal of ACR is best summed up by Peter York (co-author of the Sloane Ranger Handbook, so he knows a thing or two about trends). His take on ACR is that 'they were just so damn...early'. One instance where being ahead of your time is not necessarily a positive thing.

But the passage of time has vindicated the difficult path that ACR trod for so long. Tonight they are playing their first date in London for over two years and a large crowd of old-timers is joined by some fans who were probably at nursery when ACR started out.

Time has been kind to ACR -- clearly Manchester isn't the worst place in the world to eke out the days. As soon as the band launches into the first number, it's clear that they've still got it. They choose to begin with a medley that leads into one of their strongest ever numbers, their cover of Shack Up by the Banbarras -- a track sampled incessantly, meaning that you'll know it even if you've never heard it in it's entirety.

ACR are joined on stage tonight by Denise Johnson, a legend to those who know -- she provided the soaring vocals on Don't Fight It Feel It by Primal Scream, an anthem for early 90's clubbers. She was vocalist for the latter part of ACR's career, meaning we don't get to hear a lot of the early material. Original vocalist Martha Tilson's style could be charitably described as fey, like a proto-Beth Orton -- obviously ACR decided that it would be hard to make these work with Denise Johnson's powerful soul stylings.

Initially she seems to be slightly nervous -- perhaps with good cause, as the live room at Cargo is full to the rafters. She begins by singing to the band as much as the crowd, seeking some non-verbal reassurance from other band members. But once the initial nerves pass, she realises that she is amongst friends and clearly some of this new found confidence rubs off on the rest of the band.

The band treads a fine line between keeping the crowd happy with old favourites and trying out what sound like new compositions. This recent material seems to combine the two phases of ACR's career: the later and more soulful style they adopted when signed to A&M with occasional flourishes from the Factory era. Their forthcoming download-only album "And You, Forgotten" should afford die-hard fans the opportunity to become more familiar with their new sound.

As their set climaxes, I turn to my companion for the evening and say 'This is just like being back at the Hacienda in the 1980's'. Admittedly I was never there the first time around, so only have the fake nostalgia engendered through watching films like 24 Hour Party People.

But the penny has dropped for me -- I can finally understand where ACR fit into the history of dance music in Britain. They didn't really know what they were doing at the time. It's only now in the fullness of time that their contribution can be fully appreciated.

Not bad for a band that once claimed that they were crap, but weren’t sure why.