For local quartet Sweet Briar, the fact they're playing here tonight obviously came as a big shock. Drafted in at the last minute because initial headliners Hockey Night didn't arrive at the venue until well after the doors opened, Sweet Briar seemed to be engaged in a hate/hate relationship with the soundman from the word "go".

Which is a shame because when these four studious young believers - resurrected from the ashes of Burningman - get their heads down and give us a tune as delightful as 'Prints' - think David Gedge duetting with the Divine Comedy, they're a joy to behold. Catch them when they've had more time to prepare themselves, you won't be disappointed.

Sadly, disappointing is the only way to describe tonight's poor turnout, as less than 50 people have made an effort to see, admittedly at short notice, one of the most genuine, hardworking rock'n'roll bands plying their way around the circuit at the minute.

Sure, the first thing any cynic might say about the Five O'Clock Heroes is "heard it all before", but what the band may lack in originality, they make up for in dynamicism, charisma, and above all else, TUNES. And there's a barrow load here to be getting on with. Singer Antony Ellis sounds like the surrogate offspring of Kevin Rowland and Ric Ocasek, all rolled "Rrrrrs" and New Yawk dahn Lahndon Tahn for the evening metaphors.

'Time On My Hands' is easily the best song Television never wrote, while 'Head Games' could be the rebirth of Joe Jackson's musical career if he hadn't discovered monogamy and fatherhood instead. By the time they run through a celebratory 'Holiday' at the end, the band look exhausted, the few of us left in the venue are sweating like Michelle McManus after two minutes in a sauna, and even the soundman is grinning like Bagpuss' bank manager. Sweet.