The Bronx were brought to this country by the fancy-pants who make loads of 'metal' known as Lostprophets earlier this year, being cited as "The best band in the world”. The Californians were promoting this show way back then. It sold out pretty damn quickly.

This band deal with real issues using real passions. They use the entire gamut - love, hate, sorrow and fear - and it shows. It’s not sugary-punk and it ain’t goth-punk, just punk rock. There is a certain punkish vitality here that is inherently American. The foot-stamping, hip-wiggling intensity hasn’t been seen in these parts since Rocket from the Crypt powerslammed the MC5’s legacy all the back to whence they came. And it is good.

Tonight, The Bronx almost play their eponymous debut in its entirety with a meagre spattering of extraneous tunes and it is wonderful. The half-hour of magic that brought us ‘Heart Attack American’, ‘Los Angeles’ and ‘They Will Kill Us All (Without Mercy)’ is played perfectly with the vivacity and exuberance that you fear can only be executed by the teddy-bear frontman Matt Caughthran.

This is essential punk rock at its very best.