“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.

The first two tracks of EP Dumbstruck are mixed by Chris Sheldon, whose CV reads like the track listing for an indie rock compilation album. That’s an excellent clue to what the Dacoits are all about: indie rock in the Nineties/early Noughties style.

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.

Anna McNicholl's day job involves studying mediaeval history, but her chirpy retro-pop has its roots in the more recent past. There's a definite Sixties vibe to her sunshiny tunes as well as to her current look. She cites Nick Cave, Tom Waits and Patti Smith as influences, but it's difficult to detect any gothic darkness in her sound. This artist is more about well-crafted power pop tunes, Dylan-style folk and the occasional foray into more aggressive rock.

Pub debates about bands can get heated, but you can rarely go far wrong if you say "They were better in the early days, before their production got too slick."

Not so for Monkey Puzzle. While the likes of Pixies, Hole or REM might have sounded more interesting with their earlier, rougher production, Monkey Puzzle are an act in serious need of smoother production.

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.