Characteristically shy throughout, one may have hoped that time and experience would have provided Michael Bromley with the confidence that might, nay, would have carried them through this showing. It is a shame. I have witnessed their promise on several occasions in the huts and hovels that they thrive in. When they bounce upon those walls, they do shine. Here, it was all just a bit too far away.

In stark, sterile contrast lay the LostProphets. Not so far removed visually from their earlier forays - bounding across the stage while chatting between themselves and occasionally to their willing audience - their sound has moved on considerably. The instance and urgency of their début has diminished, unfurling a different beast: one that grows sticks, curls around and keeps. It’s almost as if at some point in the past two years they began writing good songs. In a set comprised equally of old and new the edges began to happily blur.

A few weeks ago the first airing of the new material left me reasonably intrigued as to when they would catch on fully, this second experience found the hooks and leeches hiding in each song scratching anything even slightly exposed and sucking my eyeball out. After the seventh “1…2…3…GO!” you start to realise though, that this is Music By Numbers. LostProphets seemed so comfortable here because they knew that only Crafty Music By Crafty Bands would ever garner unhealthy responses from a Linkin Park crowd. This is all mighty, mighty good fun.

Just like Linkin Park. Except they just left me empty. There is a comfort zone that an artist should never reach. The time when they know they don’t need to do this. It shouldn’t ever be a choice. The compulsion to further yourself by expressing new ideas with new methods should propel any thoughts of necessity forthwith. It is this impulsive nature that intrigues so about a new band, and the lack of which dulls the presence of the elderly. Linkin Park seemed elderly tonight. They left me empty. It should not be so.