Equally well received are headliners Stout who manage to get away with some ingenious vocal experimentation of either an air raid siren or a dying whale, depending on your mental taste. Aside from the impressions, the Southamptoners play thrusting and screaming rock which soon descends into guitar string chewing greatness. Intelligent vocals frequently become mantra-like, evoking At The Drive-In levels of insanity and intensity. Amongst the lashings of rock, metal and hardcore is highlight ‘Cuts’, a stomping number lovingly dedicated to the sadomasochist fanatics in the crowd (just the one, apparently).

However it is Brighton’s Turncoat who manage to get the crowd excited to a level which even Mr S&M would be jealous of. In their singer they have an incredibly intense character who, when not petulantly throwing guitar stands into the crowd, displays a hypnotic baritone. ‘Waiting Room’ is a definite standout and although there is talk of “these same old rooms”, the venue soon transforms into anything resembling ordinary. Beginning in swaying beauty, the track climbs sharply into anthemic heart tugging brilliance.

Turncoat exist somewhere between hope and despair and it feels impossible not to be moved both emotionally and literally through jerky, sporadic flinches. With a singer cutting an Ian Curtis like figure, it seems apt to hear such torment in songs with lyrics including: “I must confess I’m an absolute zero”. There is an intensity reminiscent of Interpol and the five-piece really benefit from the atmospherics of some brilliant keyboard work.

Penultimate track ‘Hang On’ asks “What will come of this”, which is surely a rhetorical question because bands this good eventually get the attention they so richly deserve.