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"Destroying music, one song at a time": Few bands would have the temerity to stand by such a mantra, but The Alice Kona Band aren't a group known to conform. Shrouded in smoke in the first few moments of the set, it soon recedes to reveal four filthy street urchins who unleash even filthier punk at ear splitting volume.

The venomous vocal delivery, raw guitars and of course the foul-mouthed banter, are all part and parcel to the band's live show. While you could interpret it as juvenile punk nostalgia, there's more to it than first impressions may have you believe: while they aren't coy in testing their audience's auditory endurance, it's the unfiltered aggression they package their music in that keeps the crowd reigned in and bouncing along.

Though technical hitches mar the set at times, it's like water off a duck's back for the unruly bunch, all in keeping with their devil may care ethos. Undeterred, they abandon the botched song altogether and tear into new single, Death Record, which has the crowd chanting along during the brattish chorus.

For want of a better expression, these guys do not give a monkeys about who they play to or how they do so. But this is A.K.B.'s unique selling point: they bring a welcome bravado and belligerence to our predominantly clean-cut music scene. Some nights you want your music lovingly served up on a silver platter, whilst others you want to be pinned up against a wall and have it bored into your skull.

Chris Johnson