Monday night. It's enough to make a man take to his Tardis – if he were also a Doctor – or perhaps to recalibrate his flux capacitors if he weren't. Time travel is not just a possibility or even a probability but an eventuality. Everything you have seen you will either have seen before or you will, at the very least, think you have.
With little more than a flurry to offset the indifference, Safety Nett turned up the melancholy and atonal chromatic diversions in a successful attempt to remind us of the days when synths were melodic instruments of aural persuasion (and God bless mid-season Genesis while we are at it). Bathed in distinctly appropriate red light, they stayed downbeat but nonetheless different.
Rather less different were The Blitz but they easily made up their originality deficit with a buoyant set of time travelling songs that reached back all the way through last year's Glasgow indie rock sound to, wait for it, pre Beatles era British rock 'n' roll. It was one of the shortest sets that I have seen but there was still time for a pretty blonde to ask me if I was a contract killer. Truly one of those moments when a man must question his choice in aftershave.
Hosemox decide to do the square peg in a round hole thing with a mix of metal riffs and guttural moanings taking them to a time and place outside the realm of conventionality or indeed common sense. There are times when I feel less a reviewer and more of an anthropologist as I try to uncover where a band is coming from. Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I don't.
Anyway, I distinctly heard her say "flux capacitor". How can a woman that beautiful say "flux capacitor" with not even a hint of irony? Never saw that coming.