Against Me!

Considering their debut Curses has won plaudits across the board for its tightness and economy of sound - it's impossible to find a wasted note on the entirety of the album - it was always going to be interesting to see how Future Of The Left would go translate.

Ordinarily you'd expect them to just slay everyone in the crowd, but considering the circumstances of tonight's gig (they're playing in London, city of arm-folders and spoilt gig-goers; they're supporting a band notorious for the ferocity of their fans' support; it's fucking cold outside) their short, concise set was as good as could be expected.

Saying roughly two sentences during the entire gig (including a plea for the fourth series of The Wire to be released on DVD - couldn't agree more), Falko lets his caustic guitar speak for the band. The message couldn't be clearer: they're letting the music make FOTL's name, and with songs as assured and viciously precise as 'Small Bones Small Bodies' and 'Plague Of Onces' it's no wonder they're seeing their profile rise in the mainstream press like mclusky's and Jarcrew's never really did. Kelson Mathias' bass locks so deeply into a thick, menacing groove that _'The Lord Hates A Coward'_ starts brooding and bleeding like it always threatened to on record and, powered as it is by Jack Egglestone's jackhammer arms, manages to sound both like a blunt instrument and a cruelly sharpened weapon.

And when a keyboard is brought front and centre for 'Manchasm' some members of the crowd start trying to have a dance and end up looking like they're having a gentle seizure; brilliantly, this is the entire point of FOTL. Sod yer general notions of cool, this is simply about pure songwriting quality, and when these tunes course through your body it's natural to let your limbs jerk around. That's why so many people are starting to love them, because they represent a true rejection of the diluted pap that has become the mainstream.