The Milwaukees

The first question that comes into your head when you enter the Portland Arms is just, well, where do the bands play?

Having practically lived in this pub most evenings a year or so back, you soon learn that the size of the venue is half the attraction. The Portland can hold about 90 people in its back room and it always gives way to the feeling that you're watching a band in the comfort of your own home. But with better sound and no beer spilt on your sofa. And not once do you have to leave mid-concert to check that no one is shagging in your parents' bed.

This intimacy only enhances the experience when you're seeing really good bands. Tonight was no exception.

First on were a band I'd only heard of in passing, Shortcut To Newark. From what I've been told by university friends, why anyone would want to head to Newark at all is beyond me, but that's just their name so I'm being pedantic. They're actually from Birmingham and by the end of the first song I was already nodding my head and smiling from ear to ear. They play sun-drenched indie-rock of the finest order, with two vocalists only too happy to spend most of their set singing the kind of harmonies that make you glad that optimism still exists. Sound wise, they're hard to pinpoint; think the sassy pop and choppy guitars of Saves The Day but without the incessant whining and you're halfway there. They will not destroy you, or blow you away, but what they will do is rock you. In a polite and friendly way. They're the kind of rock band that walks past your house and waves at you through the window while you're eating your breakfast. Shortcut To Newark are, in the very best sense of the word, nice.

Next up were local boys Right Turn Clyde. Contaning ex-members of Hofman, Buried Trevor and The Saffs, the band have always had a level of hype about them and despite dividing opinions in their hometown, tellingly they are one of the only local bands to be signed, in this case to London's Deck Cheese label. They're also a fine example of a band that's always evolving and attempting to better itself, and they're now getting to the stage where they look like making serious waves on the punk circuit. It's only a shame that P-Rock has gone on hiatus, if it comes back then these guys are almost guaranteed to be all over it like a rash. That's not to say that they're just your standard yawn-yawn punk band, their influences seem a lot wider than that. They can, and regularly do, swing from the gritty, emotionally-charged melody of Alkaline Trio right through to the testosterone-heavy rock of 3 Colours Red, often within the breadth of the same song. Add this to the increasingly complex material that is creeping into their set and the fact that they can pull it off live and, hey, you're onto a winner. If you like your songs to be anthems, then Right Turn Clyde are the band for you.

After the quality of the support, The Milwaukees had a tough job ahead of them. Luckily, they had the songs and the charisma to keep the audience listening and, from what i could see of the reactions around me, enjoying their set right until their last track finished in a wave of feedback just after 11pm. Being somewhat of an underground phenomenon (their last album "Missile Command" has gained fantastic zine reviews in both the US and over here in the UK) it seemed that the majority of the people at the show were already fans curious to whether the New Jersey band could perform as well on stage as they can on record. And they did - almost. Worshipping at the thrones of Dinosaur Jr. and Sebadoh, at least that's what it says on their website, they still seem to bring a whole lot more rock than either. Sounding less like the aforementioned and more like an amalgamism of Husker Du and intelligent post-punk contemporaries such as Samiam, The Milwaukees only ever hold up from their taut melodic thrash to speak to the audience. And not once are they heckled. Even in such intimate surroundings, everyone is paying attention. It's the vocalist, his band and around 60 people in total awe. Despite suffering from a sore throat, that holds him back only slightly, he thanks the audience for being there that evening. And you can tell he really means it. But what he maybe doesn't appreciate, is that the pleasure is all ours.