Reverend & The Makers, Octagon

Former Boardwalk barman-turned rock 'n' roll clergy Jon McClure - he previously pulled pints as well as played in a band with Arctic Monkeys' Alex Turner - has found a groove-driven niche to avoid the same critical tarring endured by fellow Monkey pals Milburn (that said, they fill this same venue next month).

It's one thing to sing about tacky holidays on the Costas, suburban sexual skulduggery and opting out of the rat race; it's another to do it with driving beats and natty keyboards.

While Jon is a strong physical presence - aside from giving a crane a run for its money he's got a gob to stop traffic - his band are more than backing. But it is their leader, his vocals at first too low in the mix of this show, that eyes are on. Part Bez, part poet, all northern hero, his stance and mannerisms are repeated a hundred fold on the floor.

For this isn't necessarily the kind of crowd your gran would want you kicking about with. The majority are good-time folk who've found something of substance to bounce around to - students, estate agents, bus drivers. Then there are handy-looking elements apparently on a twokkers convention, though arguably these rowdy types give the show an edge that McClure's songs demand and don't always achieve on record.

State Of Things and Heavyweight Champ are surely the best songs here, but chav anthem He Said He Loved Me gets the biggest response. Bet there are a few real reverends who'd settle for a crumb of this enthusiasm.