Smith, tortured frontman of student favourites Editors, has just been asked if he feels any affinity with the recent wave of 80s-influenced electronica acts such as Little Boots and, yes, La Roux. After all, Editors' latest record, In This Light and On This Evening, itself owes rather a blatant debt to the decade of Gary Numan, Blue Monday and synthesizers the size of cathedral organs. Perhaps there is something in the air?

"With all due respect, I wanted our album to be darker, scarier, less obvious," he says, having none of it. "I wanted to be less cheesy."

With an angst-soaked aesthetic straight out of the Cold War era and a sound that draws heavily on the U2 school of chest-beating anthemia, Editors are surely the band best placed to 'do a Coldplay' and step up to arena status. Certainly, these soberly attired Brummies have earned a special place in the hearts of the college-going population -- if you are a student, dress in black and don't have a girlfriend, chances are they're your favourite group of the past five years.

"When we make music, we are exploring things that people might say are gloomy and dark," says Smith, when asked if Editors are as brooding off stage as on, or whether the gloomster thing is a bit of an affectation. "I have problems when people challenge our integrity. They believe that because we seem like four well-adjusted people... they wonder how we can make music that is dark."

In addition to fronting a top 10 rock band, Smith is something of a B-list celebrity back in the UK, owing to his relationship with BBC presenter Edith Bowman. He isn't comfortable discussing his personal life, but says that being part of a celeb couple doesn't complicate things as much as you might expect.

"There are very few pop stars that can't get on the Tube," he says. "If Bono got on the Tube without his sunglasses, in his day to day clothes, he'd be okay. There are certain places or night spots I'd probably avoid now. Then again, I probably wouldn't go to them anyway. It's not like I get hassled."

He recently became a father for the first time, an event which he feels informed the increasingly politicised nature of his lyric writing (In This Light contains a multitude of references to God and Britain's "surveillance culture").

"People ask me, 'has becoming a father changed you, or changed you as a songwriter'," he reflects. "On a day-to-day level, I don't know. It definitely changes the way you look at the world, you have to be less selfish. Part of that is looking outwards and looking at the world in which my child is gonna grow up. There are a couple of songs on the LP which are definitely more politically charged and more questioning."

Ironically, for a band adored by students, Editors themselves don't have particular fond memories of college. True, Smith met guitarist Chris Urbanowicz when both were studying music engineering at Staffordshire University in Stoke. However, academia wasn't really their thing and they quickly left.

"We were in a small town, there wasn't much going on. The campus we were at was an engineering campus. It was full of boys. When you think about student life, I don't think it tallied with the things it conjures up in your head. I don't look back on it as the glory days of student-hood. It put us in a room together. That's what counts, I guess."

If we lived in a world without Joy Division, New Order and Interpol, then Editors would surely be one of the most exciting bands on the planet. But that isn't the case and when you listen to their three albums -- even the synth-steeped new one -- it's hard to banish the suspicion that Editors are trudging in the footsteps of several generations of pop miserablists. Naturally, Smith doesn't take this too well. Comparing Editors to Joy Division and Interpol strikes him as lazy, unhelpful and, ultimately, irrelevant.

"I don't think our last record sounded anything like Interpol or Joy Division," he says. "That's my opinion. In the world of the internet, there's such a sea of viewpoints. Everybody has the chance to give their opinion on anything. There are many viewpoints, it makes the whole thing effing worthless."

Does he find himself avoiding Joy Division and Interpol as a result ? "I think Interpol are a great band, "he says. "Their first record, especially, is an amazing piece of work. When we first came out people said we reminded them of Echo and the Bunnymen. They were one group we did go back and investigate. Their first four albums are truly incredible. Joy Division -- I don't know as much about them as people may think."

Of course, unlike Joy Division, whose songs have advertised everything from beer to car insurance, you won't find Editors flogging their music to the ad men. Repressing a shudder, Smith recalls being offered a wedge of cash to allow one of their early hits be used in a campaign by that mother lode of punk energy Marks & Spencer.

"I'd feel incredibly uncomfortable with being on a billboard," he says. "If I'd done that I don't think I'd be sat here today talking to you. There is no way I'd be the right person for this band. Today people are buying things they can't afford and the advertising industry is encouraging them to do it. The thought of having [early hit] Munich backing the new ad for a Fiat or whatever... I would never ever say yes to that. Marks & Spencer -- that was always going to be a 'no'."

Smith is polite but a bit intense. He only really cheers up when asked about the time Editors went on tour with REM, another college-rock institution that has broken into a bigger stage.

"They were very nice guys. Peter Buck would come into our dressing room and talk about music. Mike Mills was more of a party animal. Michael Stipe was quiet. We went to dinner as part of a big group a couple of times.

"Michael is very interested in clothes and fashion, which are subjects I know very little about. He said he liked my leather jacket. That's a compliment I'm more than happy to take."

In This Light and On This Evening is released today.