Kate Griffin freelance journalism and editing

?“The answers to our global woes won’t be found with shiny logos on a special aisle at Tesco’s...” Is that the ghost of Purchase-Free Future we’re hearing? Almost: it’s performance poet Danny Chivers with Don’t Buy It, part of a set that ridicules the human tendency to accumulate heaps of junk. His witty rhymes and repertoire of voices brighten up the chilly and still-sparse crowd. We’re even joining in with chants by the end of his set.

A friend of mine has a theory that ska bands are by definition fun. Drug Squad do nothing to prove him wrong, which is good news for everybody who's here to dance.

Martin Simpson treats us to an etymology lesson as he's tuning up. He explains that "bucolic" literally means "pertaining to cows" and "crepuscular" comes originally from the Latin for "dark" or "obscure".

But, as he points out, both words sound like nasty complaints. So it's fitting that his first song, murder ballad Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard, is bucolic, crepuscular and thoroughly horrible.

Borderville are high-energy, high-concept and a lot of fun live. Their theatrical-military look is the perfect fit for a flamboyant but deceptively tight set. The charismatic keyboardist is just one of the many reasons why they're more than a guitar band.

Their hard-rocking set hurtles along all too quickly, and the audience are left yelling for an encore.

We're in the last days of a sleaze-ridden Tory government, university education is free and only total geeks use email. Yes, it's 1996 again; how else do you explain the fact that Dodgy are performing in front of such an adoring crowd?

"If you're drinking Southern Comfort, you're coming with us. If you're on the Red Bull, you're going to be disappointed." Richard Catherall of Gappy Tooth Industries is explaining how this week's Gappy Tooth night is going to become more chilled-out as it progresses.