The Mae Shi

The formula’s simple enough: a dash of Blood Brothers (twin vocalists, sweet and sour, nice postures), awesome pop hooks that would sit pretty in the catalogues of The Cribs and The Futureheads, a stage presence that’s endearingly modest and attractively amusing – vocally rather than physically, although Gunn’s trews run a mighty risk of dropping on more than one occasion this evening, which combined with his shirtless upper would make for a comedy catastrophe of wang-revealing proportions – and an exuding of fun – serious, side-threatening, muscle-aching, gob-arching fun – that wins over the most sceptical onlooker. Not that many here didn’t arrive prepared – that few carry work satchels, shopping bags or any other bop-preventing load indicates they’ve come to dance.

And dance everybody does, to ‘Pink Sabbath’, the track that’ll serve as a taster of the band’s debut LP, to be worked on in New York this month; to ‘The Greater Than Symbol And The Hash’, one of the most absurdly-titled slices of angular-punk-pop brilliance ever formulated; to ‘Totally Bone’, an oldie but a greatie that sends ripples of convulsion through the front few rows of crammed-in-hard constituent crowd persons. As the set rolls on – as it rocks on – it becomes impossible to imagine how The Mae Shi will top this… and this… and this. I raise an empty glass and applaud its sides; it’s part recognition of the band’s form, part an invitation to fill said receptacle with one of their rider beverages. It remains empty.

The room, however, doesn’t, and those that do follow that breathlessly dizzying display of indie-rockisms future and beyond with more rock action are rewarded with a set of HLLLYH_ winners from the LA-spawned headliners, soon to be seen on the DiS-curated stage at Friday’s Summer Sundae in Leicester (details) and at Field Day (details), which tonight is something of an ‘opening party’ for – the venue’s well-branded, for sure, and bunting circles the stage. But for all their energy, their catchy alt-poppers and their own brand of channelled punk catharsis, The Mae Shi don’t connect as purely as their predecessors. Not this evening; the night’s been won an hour before they take the stage.