Once upon a time – a decade ago, to be precise - there were some music journalists who got bored in some London pub and decided to invent a name for a new scene. That was called New Wave Of New Wave (or NWONW, if you like), and S*M*A*S*H were its gods. Back then, when the NME had more than six bands they’d put on the cover in any given year, they stuck S*M*A*S*H on said cover and said words to the effect of “this is your new favourite band”. And for approximately the length of one mini album at least, they were. They played on Top Of The Pops as well, you know. Cor!

Not heading that way anytime soon are noisy (scr)emo boys Optimist, who despite throwing all the right moves and, y’know, putting in the effort and all that, aren’t really right for this gig. That’s not to say they’re terrible – they have some mental backing vocal moments and twisted riffs which would make Mclusky proud, and they wouldn’t sound out of place supporting yourcodenameis:milo. But tonight it swiftly grates. Get off.

Coming on in leaps and bounds (in more ways than one) are Rhesus, a bunch of good-looking boys (and girl) who have most of the correct band ingredients without relying too heavily on The Generic Book Of Punk Rock Rules, although all the sloganeering one-liners (De-Education, forthcoming single Art Is Dead) would have them down as being a bunch of Manics wannabes, or the sort of band Alan McGee would’ve taken out a full-page ad for a few years ago to proclaim them as being The New Sex Pistols. Rhesus are essentially a good rock band who have – yes! – TUNES with great big shouty choruses. And when you see Jim Rhesus sporting a PiL t-shirt, at least you know he’ll be able to name more than one of their albums. 4 Real, if you like.

This is a secret gig. In fact, maybe a bit TOO much of a secret, as there doesn’t look like there’s anymore than 50 people here. But that’s cool. It’s at least the right kind of venue for it – a 100 Club for South London, but cheaper. For all the people here who wanted to relive their youth (and S*M*A*S*H themselves were no spring chickens when they started – by golly, Ed looks old tonight. He makes DJ Dave Crash Convention look about 12 years old in comparison) there’s a lack of ‘moshing’. For a bunch of supposed punks, the band aren’t moving a great deal around the stage. Initial signs = oo-er, this is going to be shit on a shitty stick.

Then it hits you – what a fantastic songwriter Ed was/is. They play all the ‘hits’, including (I Want To) Kill Somebody with its original politician hit-list intact (grant yourself a prize if you can remember it without having heard it since its release). The bouncy Shame is a total joy and even the appallingly-named Oh Ovary is a brilliant mini anthem. The promoter is bouncing around like a child at Christmas, I’m grinning like a slightly inebriated loon, and a couple of cynical youngsters look at least slightly impressed. “You can, like, play these songs on an acoustic guitar and they’d still sound great,” is hopefully what they were thinking. Job well done, then.

Word has it a new single is on the horizon. The majority of those tuneless Rhythm Factory scenesters might want to watch their backs. Swings and roundabouts, indeed.