Camden (home of historical style, London-cool and very little legal substance..) @ The Underworld, are Tyler from Exeter. This band perfectly sum up the venomous hate I have for Hundred Reasons. I’m not sure how to make that statement make sense to you, but it’s basically down to their emulation and lack of imagination… whereas Tyler have the missing parts to the power of 11! Maybe they’ve tamed the angry-emo beast and given up blowing away the dust of their shattered hearts. Just maybe? No, maybies about it, they really have...

Their sound has the rock monster tamed, like the dragon in the fairytale beneath the pointy, white brick castle. The growl of the serpent is there. So too is the ominous, chillin', valley filling mist that plumes out the sleeping monsters nose amid the quieter bits, where a cello and whispered husk of the girl, sat quietly content aside the sweaty, shouty boys, craning backwards and forwards, blasting out pentangular rock from their guitars and trying to keep their drumkit standing. Quiet, LOUD, etc… just like my beloved’s Biffy Clyro or like the enchanting trance of Six by Seven or the star wars thrusts of the Rock of Travolta and/or the emo-squals of their friends Kids Near Water; so yes, basically making this bands combination all all the above, just as, if not more worshipable. And this for me, by a currently unknown band, is music which makes putting your life on the line to run a music site seem like it’s expected of you. This won’t be the last time you hear about this band…

And this won’t be the first time you’ve heard about Winchester's (big up the Home Counties massseeeff!!) Caretaker with their unfathomably calculated sharp-noises. Yeah, you could bung comparisons around about this band, but why bother, they’re doing something inspired by, rather than just aiming their lurching guitars at anyone's feet but their own. Yes, yes, their guitars are swung low, s'cool. So too is fact they're cranked up as loud as they will go so that the quieter bits dance around your ear drum that much harder. Their amps really should be blistered with burns from this noise as it speeds out into my head. With bands like this, I never quite feel like I understand it all, but that’s the joy of 'art' when it’s got that mystical, unknown, unfileable, beauty-around-you slowly degenerating something-or-other. Just something, and anything other than being boring.

Caretaker leave the stage, their sound embossed on my eardrums like a memory in my brain of Nirvana. Seb makes claims that they weren’t at their best because of little practice, but he’s just delusional, Caretaker don’t need to practice at being this good, they just is!

A great night… until KaitO come on, with their sparkling, pretty female-fronted, pink-tinged rock but I was in the tube grinning before they’d even hit the chorus of song number three. Like I said, it was a great night. Best of British, etc…