‘On Saturdays we’re a Def Leppard cover band’, Douglas tell us, and for once, we’re glad it’s not the weekend. They then proceed to play lots of loud, fast punk songs, all of which sound quite similar. It is likely that Douglas are familiar with the work of Idlewild, but, sadly, their angst seems far more impotent than that of their Scottish peers. Without any real hooks, their songs make minimal impact. After each three minute salvo of frustration the band haven’t really achieved anything. Their best song is the opening number and their quietest moment. It twitches with nervous tension, threatening to become loud, but never doing so. This works.

Where the band also succeed is in the vitality of their performance. Throughout the show vocalist Colin needs no excuse to fling himself from the stage, whilst various members of the band scale the speaker stacks during the course of the evening. At one point Colin even finds himself swinging from the beams of the roof, four foot above the floor. When he comes down he brings large chunks of concrete with him. Such punk rock abandon is not new, but this is still an impressive sight.

‘Tonight, the real winner has been the city of Sheffield’ he tells us, before launching into their final number. It’s certainly not whoever has to repair the ceiling.

And if Douglas are the disowned cousins of Idlewild, Hundred Reasons are the bastard offspring of Rage Against the Machine. They spit and they scream in true rock fashion, they spiral through the same set of second-hand riffs Linkin Park et al are presently rooting through. They make out with (almost certainly) underage girls in the crowd afterwards. Whilst their music is competent, it’s completely redundant. Unlike their Los Angeles based influences, they make a tremendous amount of noise without saying anything.

Throughout the band’s set the template for a bland rock performance is rigidly adhered to. They even have the one quiet song, where the singer, also a Colin, sits pensively on the edge of the stage. He seems to be singing about girls not being interested in him, but maybe it’s about them not being interested in his music. It’s hard to care which it is. There is no reason for Hundred Reasons to exist when angst is being packaged and sold so much more effectively by any number of American bands. That they enter the stage accompanied by an ‘hilarious’ pastiche of ‘Last Resort’ suggests contempt for today’s American Metal, but they’re probably only jealous of Papa Roach’s sales figures. 'Let’s Get Rocked'? I’d be more likely to if I saw Douglas on a Saturday.