Saturday 05/11/05 Nastyfest IV @ The Faversham, Leeds

The organisers of Nastyfest, now a firmly established fixture in the diaries of Leeds gig-goers, have consistently proved themselves adept at booking bands which some up the current zeitgeist. Previous bills have included The Futureheads, The Cribs, Black Wire, ¡Forward, Russia! and Pink Grease, and the fourth event has the broadest range of styles to date.

As with anything, variety brings successes and failures. Drab early entries from Envelopes and Hot Dead Fox test the patience with grey-faced indie indifference and unappetising machismo respectively, before the gloves finally come of with the arrival of That ****ing Tank. Initially letting loose the high calibre, high adrenalin instrumental rock which has made them such favourites with Leeds post-rockers and metal kids alike, they run quickly aground when technical gremlins rear their head. Problem rectified, they play one more tune before Andy Abbott breaks a guitar string, and they sheepishly write the set off after only fifteen minutes.

Disappointment is begin to fester. Happily, on the conservatory stage more local lads, Voltage Union, make a spirited attempt to capture our hearts. They bring to mind Weezer, albeit with sharper corners and a nice synth which gives them a slightly plastic sound. Whilst hardly world-beaters, it seems likely that, with work, they may produce something special.

Back in the main room, hairy alpha males Gentlemen’s Pistols are gamely reproducing Deep Purple. Unashamed, they cock rock like it’s 1974. It’s all rather charming, from the barnstorming riffs to songs called 'Heavy Petting' and lyrics like “What the lady wants / The lady gets.” It’s fine, but it does set a worrying precedent for genre exercises which is repeated later in the day.

Sheffield’s The Harrisons are on excellent form. A great vocal performance is at the heart of rabble-rousing songs, chant-a-long choruses and raw playing. 'London Calling' era Clash seem a likely influence on The Harrisons’ soulful punk. More retro action next from Vincent Vincent & The Villains, whose fifties rock’n’roll pastiches are initially entertaining but quickly prove tiresome. Where Gentleman’s Pistols are an unambiguous celebration of a now much-maligned period of rock history, Vincent’s songs seem less believable. The sour whiff of irony is never far away.

The conservatory is the wrong environment in which to experience O Fracas, whose precision dynamics are lost in the poorly defined sound mix. The bass is overwhelming, and whilst the playing is obviously still first class, the guitar and vocal interplay is lost. A better mix in the main room means we can hear every note of Circulus. And what a lot of notes there are. Another genre band, they pick the most reviled period of music’s history to mine for ideas. And while prog has undergone something of a critical overhaul in recent years, with bands like Can and Faust being recognised as the trail-blazers they were, Circulus are a painful reminder of what the punks destroyed. With songs about fourteenth century Italy and crumbling castles, Circulus are an unwelcome return to a very dark time. The gleeful reaction of the crowd is a frightening example of irony taking to an extreme extent, or hopefully just a measure of how drunk people are.

The Young Knives also exhibit a keen sense of irony when Henry Dartnell asks, “How do we follow that?” The answer is, of course, by being The Young Knives. How this most anti-fashion of bands has become so fashionable in the last six months is a mystery, but their growing popularity is heart-warming, as are their dizzying melodies and painfully funny lyrics. The House of Lords, now something of a cult figure if the chanting is anything to go by, is at his curmudgeonly best, and as always, steals the show with upcoming single 'The Decision'. The Young Knives are inches from the big time. Pretty soon, they’ll be following every band they play with.