The dark cloud from celebrating Pride is still looming over my head when I manage to force myself to go catch the tail end of Porridge Radio. But I regret not making the entirety of it. Their naïve, lo-fi music brings to mind The Raincoats, The Slits and other post-punk bands that can write amazing songs from the most bare-bones setup. The group treat playing live as a kind of joyous, childlike play. Trying to figure out chords as they go along and ending their set in excited yelping.

I’ve caught Sealings a few times before, usually in more ropey sounding DIY venues. Their atmospheric noise-rock benefits immensely from being performed on a proper sound system. The waves of feedback and needle-like treble of the guitar lines cut through the driving rhythm section like a razor wire.

It’s Japanese Breakfast’s first time visiting the UK but clearly she already feels right at home here. Commanding the stage while also showing fragility in her delicate indie rock. Her last track is the strongest though, ditching the guitar for neon-lit synths on a song that she explains is about “loving a robot”. She warbles into a vocoder, sauntering through the crowd as if in a dream.

Fake Laugh make relentlessly peppy lo-fi guitar pop, but there’s just enough melancholy in it to keep things interesting. They’re joined by a new bassist who played his first show with them the day before but you would never tell from the sheer buoyancy they’re able to produce as a live band.

They couldn’t be any further from the next band on. Show Me The Body give a live show so intense you fear for your own personal safety. “We’re showing you love, why don’t you show us some?” frontman Julian Pratt asks somewhat menacingly while kissing his teeth, he could have fooled me. He regularly gobs at the crowd, crushes a beer can on his head and scans the room as if looking for his next target. If he intends to win people over through sheer intimidation then he’s certainly on the right track. It’s probably a bit too much for people on a Sunday afternoon, most of whom are still in a haze from the previous evening’s Pride festivities but it doesn’t make the music any less visceral, in fact it’s often down right incredible. Employing both hardcore chanting and spitfire rapping in the vocals, it exists somewhere along the spectrum between Fugazi and Death Grips. An infernal stew of all the sounds inner-city kids have used to lash out at a world that feels like it’s closing in on them. Either wielding a banjo or violently convulsing, Pratt is utterly compelling to watch but also quiet scary. During the sludgy groove of ‘Body War’ he joins the few kids down the front giving as good as they get and shoves at the crowd standing at the back of the room. Like a claustrophobic person trying to give themselves room to breath out of sheer panic.

The all-girl LA trio Bleached are clearly more everyone’s pace. Rock music you can jump around to without the looming threat of imminent violence. Employing three-part harmonies and simple three-chord riffs, their sound is equal parts 60s girl group, like The Shangri-Las, as it is classic punk rock. The melodies are unashamedly out front and centre and irresistibly infectious with large swathes of the crowd singing along and dancing. Clearly they love the response. The bassist jumps into the crowd to join in the wigging out and later they flatter us with a comparison to legendary LA venue The Smell. It’s so much fun that for a moment my crippling hangover almost vanishes. Unlike Show Me The Body, this is rock music that aims to please instead of challenge. Both are equally valid but why settle for one when you can have both? Tonight Be Nothing have treated us to a line-up that has just that, as well as everything else in between. A well deserved happy birthday.
Louis Ormesher