"It could be home, it could be home, it could be home... "

As the swarms casually drift in from the sidelines, 'To The East' calls out with Verity Susman's plaintive vocal delivery locked in its hollow delirium. It seems safe to say that Electrelane are a far cry from Lethal Bizzle. Rather than one of the usual fodder acts carted out for such an event, this evening's solitary support slot for the Beastie Boys is inspired in that, as faces stiffen in bemusement, the quartet provoke a response. Minds churn with what to make of the peculiar billing, engagingly against the grain, and as opinions settle epiphanal fists are thrown out and lips drift off for sips in equal measure.

In keeping with the headline performance from Brooklyn's syllable-stressing oiks paying particular dues to material from The Mix Up, Electrelane's set has an instrumental focus, predominantly showcasing the moments from No Shouts, No Calls that most fervently hark back to their original groundings as a krautrock-aping instrumental act. Susman's vacant Nico vocal is befitting of its setting as an isolated call amid the loose-tongued hustle-bustle, as the quartet’s slow-building grandeur turns heads with the retiring 'In Berlin'. With root down, Mia Clarke and Ros Murray are a distant spectacle to that of Mike D and MCA bounding around, but some sense of atmosphere develops as 'Beware The Wolf And The Dog' churns away and installs some of the potent raucousness the headliners once boasted in their early hardcore incarnation but with Faust grappling with Stereolab rather than Run DMC man-handling Bad Brains.

This was never going to leave people utterly bowled over whether it was a first time in the company of Electrelane or not, but as elbows soften in the fight for space as 'Remote Control' comes to a close, Adrock calls for applause for the support act. Whether through mid-set delirium or genuine approval, it is met with a reception that caps an odd night out.

Tears? No Beastie Boys review. Go HERE for their Brixton Academy appraisal.