I’m fifty-four years old, 6’3, and have the grace and poise of an arthritic hippopotamus, so I am not renowned for my dancing skills. It takes a lot to get me to shake my stuff without inhibition. Lots of beer can sometimes do it, or, apparently, a live performance from London post- punk ravers ‘Snapped Ankles’.

Arriving on stage in gillie suits, wearing antler horn head-dresses, and looking like Mad Max versions of neolithic shaman, they set to weaving a hypnotic beat with bass, drums, vintage electronics, and home-made synths made out of logs that they hit with enthusiasm.

The noise they make is punctuated with bleeps and theremin ‘whoops’, and the vocals, with lyrics of a dystopian future and the evils of capitalism

Frontman Austin (they use surnames only) frequently goes wandering in the crowd, and pretty soon the whole venue is bopping dementedly. The noise they make is punctuated with bleeps and theremin ‘whoops’, and the vocals, with lyrics of a dystopian future and the evils of capitalism, are put through effects pedals as well.

They sound like ‘DEVO’ at their most synth-laden and weird, but this is a very English version of musical eccentricity. It is a joy to behold, and the rapidly building buzz around this band is well justified. Go and check them out. If they can make me dance, they can make anyone dance!

by GARY LLOYD