"No moshing," suggests Friendly Fires frontman Ed MacFarlane, weakly, as another crowdsurfer is manhandled over the crash barrier. "Just dancing." You can see why he thinks this an unsuitable response to Friendly Fires' music. Live, they sound lissom and funky in a way entirely at odds with their appearance: favouring shirt sleeves, short hair and sensible shoes, they somehow still look a bit like the school band they started out as at 14. Alas, his words fall on deaf ears: another teenage body launches itself into the embrace of a bouncer.

Maybe the crowd have been permanently put off the idea of normal dancing by MacFarlane's admirably abandoned demonstrations. You can safely predict that at some point in the distant future, his children are going to want the ground to swallow them during a wedding disco. Alternatively, the audience might just be delirious at the stealthy kind of success the band have achieved. Their debut album just scraped the top 30, but its songs have hung around, gradually working their way under people's skins.

It's obvious why. Their roots may be in post-punk – you can make out the ghost of Talking Heads in White Diamond's off-kilter groove – but their destination is clearly sophisticated but unashamed pop music, and they arrive there over and over again. The giddy rush of single Paris is particularly spectacular, and a new song, Kiss of Life, shows no audible let-up in quality.

There's no let-up in MacFarlane's dancing either: he doesn't even stop between songs. It looks a bit disconcerting, but the crowd don't seem to notice; those who aren't flinging themselves bodily at the band are singing gleefully along.

At Lovebox festival, Victoria Park, London, tomorrow. Details: lovebox.net