Crystal Castles

Over the years, the NME tour has proved to be one of the most eagerly anticipated events on the live music calendar. Traditionally held in the early part of the new year, it's come to be known as the big kick-off as far as the new gig season is concerned, while arguably providing a launchpad for numerous artists who've gone on to become household names.

For many, the 2005 line-up of The Killers, Bloc Party, The Futureheads and The Kaiser Chiefs represented something of a moment. Each and every one of the bands was in their prime both as both live and recording artists. While the mere mention of a couple of those names is likely now to be greeted with indifference in 2011 due to the subsequent career paths embarked on since, it's fair to say that billing has never been bettered either before or after.

This year, with the supposed dearth of UK guitar bands being documented by everyone from the BBC to numerous broadsheets, it comes as no real surprise that of the four bands chosen to represent the magazine's annual roadtrip this year, only one can claim to be reliant on the traditional four-piece vocals/guitar/bass/drums template. A bold and audacious move by the organisers, or an indicative measure of the current musical climate?

For openers The Vaccines, opinions have been formed by many long before a note of their music had been broadcast, such was the ridiculous level of hyperbole preceding their arrival on the scene late last year. However, none of this is the fault of the band, who for the record play a short sharp set of bruised and battered pop songs that channel the spirit of late seventies punk funneled through the Beach Boys melody digest. While not exactly the most original band on the planet, the likes of 'If You Wanna' (Automatic era Mary Chain covering The Ramones), 'Norgaard' (The Stray Cats meets the ghost of Joe Strummer) and 'Wreckin' Bar' (Billy Idol's 'Dancing With Myself' rewritten without any references to masturbation) provide a gust of excitement and enthusiasm that is all too lacking for the most part this evening. Kudos too for their cover of The Standells classic 'Good Guys Don't Wear White', though why the soundman has to turn the bass up so loud the walls vibrate only he can answer.

It takes literally ninety seconds of Everything Everything's opening song for a flood of punters to escape for the confines of the bar. Having seen them several times last year at various festivals, I'm still none the wiser as to what they're actually trying to achieve. Sure, they fill their pieces with complicated glitches and diversions aplenty, but the biggest problem with Everything Everything for me is that for all their ability to be creative and overtly clever, they seem to have missed out one major factor; actually writing a song, and for that reason alone, their whole set becomes messy and unlistenable in a morose kind of way. Or as one bloke in earshot put it: "Have you ever listened to paint dry? Well you have now!"

Thankfully, Magnetic Man are too loud, obnoxious even for boredom to ever become associated with their presence. The three figures of Skream, Benga and Artwork, situated behind an array of computerised machines look like a 21st Century Kraftwerk for the iPad generation. While not so much a spectacle, they're a formidable and exhilarating force, propelled by the ranting MC whose constant cries of "We want your soul!" that don't so much make everyone yearn for Aphex Twin to make a surprise appearance but act as a constant reminder that this kind of music, when performed with this level of intensity can work in the right context. 'Flying Into Tokyo' is even more sublime than on record, while even the lack of Katy B or indeed any guest vocalists doesn't stop 'Perfect Stranger' being the evening's stand-out five-and-a-half minutes.

So, onto Crystal Castles, a bizarre choice of headliners that even the most hardcore fan would find difficult to argue for. Maybe it's the fact Alice Glass, complete with crutches due to a broken foot, seems more subdued than usual. Or just that, when all's said and done, there's only so far one can take what is effectively lurid screaming over minimal casio beats before it becomes tiresome? Even the addition of a live drummer can't save Crystal Castles set from being one of the most unappealing headline slots I've ever witnessed, and after twenty minutes or so of what can only be described as repetitive noise, the exit seems a more desirable option than completing this endurance test to the bitter end.

Brave then, and certainly not a predictable line-up by anyone's standards, but having witnessed tonight's proceedings it definitely won't go down as one of the NME's most memorable tours either.