It’s been said before, and is likely to be said again in Carling’s attempts to monopolise all live music, but at least their taste isn’t always as weak as their piss…I mean, lager. For over two nights at Islington Academy the V Festival organisers are putting on a handful of bands, all eager fill up the coveniently-empty Main Stage slot at V2005. Thing is, the band who gets the golden ticket will be voted for by handset-wielding Channel 4 viewers. So, amongst the flurry of expensive beer and handset-related gimmickry, there's bound to be a rock n’ roll storm a-brewin’... Who goooooes? YEW DECI-YED.

We arrive having missed Crazy Girl, but apparently they were a bit flat so no tears were shed. As your correspondent stumbles blinking into the Academy hall itself, Young Knives are already busying themselves about, wooing the audience over in their rabid Mclusky-with-radio-sensibility type manner with songs about phone sex and all that jazz. They keep the set short and sweet tonight too, which should work in their favour – although their shouty noise-pop fuzz is quite intimidating and thrilling at first, the lack of variation means that the more it goes on, the more the listener/viewer could be excused for losing interest. And, seeing as these shows will be broadcast on T4, their well-documented geography-teacher look may not go down too well with the nation’s ‘yoof’ (or hungover students) – like one text message to the large-screen comments board said, “glad to see you could make it in from work”.

It’s Fleeing New York, however, who stride away from these shows with most of the thunder bundled under their biceps. Somehow, these three get bigger, rockier and more enjoyable every time they step onstage. In a flail of artfully-unkempt hair and fairy lights they pound away at their new songs, playing around the camerapersons and creating a ferocious bundle of tunes whilst they’re at it. There’s stomping songs like ‘Seen The Light’ and recent single ‘Up Up Up Up’, there’s lyrics sung with a sparkle in the eyes, and their own brand of mammoth riffing is made even more gargantuan than ever as proven in closer ‘Surefire’. At times they’re rocking out like they’re the snarling Southern scamps who’d easily put their aural stamp on any field with a speaker stack and then go backstage to eye up Queens of the Stone Age’s rider. At other times, and there’s many of them, they’re simply making the boldest, most celestial, most life-affirming songs of any band to pick up guitars in the last few years. Which means you’d need something pretty special to trump them. Put down your glass, let’s go dance.

Photo by Toby Summerskill. Rather good, isn't it? Yes, I thought so.