Farmyard Records present...

Friday night's gonna be alright.

Don't blame me. Point your finger at that curly-haired kid from Fame instead. Surely you've seen the repeats on UK Gold? Well it's not exactly the best advertisement for starting the weekend, but at least Davina McCall doesn't dribble spittle over the top of it.

Not that Friday night is about television. Vegetation is for the terminally insecure, which thankfully, is something Dirty Tux know little about.

It's been a good twelve months or so since DiS first saw them play to a rapturous audience waiting for one of Shoreditch's (then) finest, and since then we've had the pleasure of watching them blossom into a four-headed monster that now combine six-minute drones with angry ripostes about ex-lovers and their hometown. Drummer Luke Damian-Grint may resemble a refugee from The Cult circa 1985 this evening, but any questions his style poses are quickly admonished by his ferocious performance, one where he sheds more sweat than a Weightwatchers disciple. In the meantime, singer/guitarist/songwriter Craig Bishop looks angry, so much so that his destructive urges result in mic stand, amplifier and bass drum casualties. Brutally messy, then, but thoroughly redeeming all the same.

For Worcester's And What Will Be Left Of Them (pictured), tonight feels like something of an exorcism. Whereas their recorded output occasionally sounds a little muted and disjointed, live they fire on all cylinders. With reference points aplenty it's hard to pinpoint any one for more than 15 seconds, but when all's said and done they really are the missing link between X-Ray Spex's angry polemic and the dancefloor hugging, synapse bugging poise of Bis.

Quite simply, AWWBLOT make me want to dance, scream, shout and sing manically, and during the irrepressible finale of 'Kids In America' all four emerge at various interludes. The male/female anti-harmonies erupt in both a homage to The Slits ('Jesus') whilst subsiding in a mist of self-appropriation ('DIY Not Die'). Sure, this isn't your average Jo Whiley fare, but then why would you want it to be? By the time the final notes of 'Kids In America' bring their show to a close, the bass player’s fingers are a squelching wreck of ripped skin and blood. And What Will Be Left Of Them certainly mean it, man. Who could follow that? Exactly...