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A headstrong blend of CKY, Therapy? and Nomeanano, Dundalk three-piece Podracer set the scene as LaFaro's sole support tonight. With a refreshingly bass-heavy approach, their tightly-woven, brilliantly antagonistic alt-rock draws tonight's growing forth with each number. Certainly, while they're not a band likely to be on everyone's lips any time soon, their punchy force proves to be a fitting precursor to what's lingering just around the corner.

By the time tonight's headliners take to the stage just before 11pm, Auntie Annie's is an old-school melting pot of eager restlessness and uncontainable enthusiasm. The set-up is ideal too: with no barriers or bouncers in sight, and the fact that even a toddler could climb onto stage, it'd be foolish to think LaFaro were going to go take this one in their stride. And so, with a stool-sat Jonny Black propped up like a punk-rock Seasick Steve and Dave Magee brandishing good-natured v-fingers to the crowd, the mericiless 'Full Tilt' kickstarts the machine.

As if it was ever in doubt, there's a ridiculously celebratory mood tonight. The all-too-uncommon sentiment that "We're all in this together" proves endemic and the crowd waste no time, during the likes of 'Leningrad' and 'Girl Is A Drummer' in particular, at making their appreciation and presence known.

An unexpected fixture in the set-up tonight is Tony Wright aka VerseChorusVerse, who suddenly emerges on stage to sing one of the band's oldest songs, 'All Of These Things'. Having not played it since they were a three-piece circa 2006, Wright more than does justice to the original, both the rage and range of his screaming coming as unexpected as his appearance on stage. More than anything, though, it's how Wright immediately re-enters the crowd following his appearance that truly underpins not only his and LaFaro's sense of solidarity with the crowd, but also the crowd's sense of it with each other. Where else do you get raw talent and fraternity so naturally aligned?

By the time set standard 'Tupenny Nudger' rears its head, manic crowdsurfing and stage-diving is very much the order of the day, pockets of the crowd becoming apparently possessed with an uncontrollable urge to wreck the gaff. Limbs go flying, Oisin's bass becomes disconnected, stage monitors are turned around, Jonny dotingly calls us "Hallions" and Dave half-responsibly enquires if everyone is alright. With the disco ball still swinging from the ceiling, the consensus is a rapturous and deafening "Yeo!" and whilst it may be the oldest cliche in the book, LaFaro conclude a set which if you somehow managed to miss, you can be sure to have well and truly missed out.

Brian Coney