Rock? Why do we still bother? Surely gigs should be dead with only the smell of Limp Bizkit's in a tepid Wembley arena to move the masses? Luckily, rock doesn't die; it just sleeps, waiting to pounce from its apparent ashes, giving every gig go-er the knowledge of its existence and THAT rush. Though sometimes this perfection is not so easy to achieve.

Opener's Meanwhile Back In Communist Russia outline this from their starting musical "notion". This is curious art-rock around a somewhat harsh drum machine and 3 guitars, all of which seem to do very little. The student boys rip into their axes but sound like they're plucking knitting needles while a female centrepiece mutters inaudibly. Before I cry into my cider there is hope though. They soon tone down the Sonic-Youth-without-amps approach and start building up what they have into something quite… interesting. Aphex-tinged disco beats and underlying bass, chiming guitars and melodic noise merge into occasional glory. The vocals still remain meaninglessly lo-fi. I guess I just don't get the "talking" style of singing… "MBICR were a great lesson in restraint…. We're not" spoke the bass and vocal contingent of X-1. Too right! Straight away its clear that the aural assault shall use the Motorhead patented thrash punk and BASS weaponry with resounding breaks in the battle for some Pixies reference. X-1 continued to truly rock how the very best did until there was literally blood on the bass strings and sweat drenching the now-crowding room. No tears for these boys though. They give it all into even we need a rest. What X-1 maybe haven't got is that edge. No real infectious melodies are there even if the performance is perfectly brutal on the neck muscles. But word had been drifting that some band might have "it".

The Rock Of Travolta - entitled "best new band in Oxford" to much local debate - are that very band. And there can't be many non-believers now. They sound huge. No, they sound like The Shadows through some thermonuclear music box. Unlike normal post/emo/art/basically-no-vocals rock there is no Mogwai moodiness or modern jazz interludes. Its spunky pop played in the very best manner…foot on the monitor and giving it everything until the ceiling bleeds the milk of mother rock! The thumping power of 2 dirty basses engulf the room while dangerously contagious melodies and rhythms make that date with the chiropractor essential as the packed venue erupts to TROT's excellence. There is no earth shattering purpose to this music, it's just so bloody entertaining. This idea encapsulated by the moment when "I am your father" suddenly becomes "Darth Vader's theme". It has to be experienced to be believed. So, to anyone not attending his or her local venue…You never know where rock's next rebirth might emerge. We may have something a little special coming your way…. Best go and have a look I reckon.