From Sardinia, in Italy, this is a garage band in the true sixties punk tradition. This is THE wildest garage r&b band on the entire planet! Totally devoted to all the "no-hit wonders" from the sixties, they play an insane mixture of primitive garage-punk and ravin' rhythm'n'blues, their main influence being the pure beat mayhem of bands like the The Pretty Things, Downliner Sect, Q65 and The Missing Links. This is a band that doesn’t want to change the world and create something new – they’re just a bunch of cave-dwelling teens banging on rocks, making prehistoric sounds, living out their passion for all things 1960s. These sharp-suited guys play fast and with such energy you’ll think you’re at some teen hangout in 1966.

Do we need another band said to be destined for great things in this coming year? Well, if it's the Gaa Gaa's, then yes! This Brighton-based group (originally from the island of Jersey) are described by Drowned In Sound as "a true inspiration...a fabulous noise that brings to mind bands such as The Birthday Party, Bauhaus, TheStooges and The Cure. We urge you not to miss them - you will kick yourself in the future if you do." Their autodestruction of Plastique Bertrands' "Ca Plan Pour Moi" has been torn apart on the altar of lo-fi Jesus and Mary Chain grunge rock'n'roll with only a harmonica break to remind us of how the original tune must've sounded. Anyone old enough to remember punk might think this is a sacrilige. Most of us will see in this band something as gritty and occasionally obnoxious as real punk rock must have sounded 30 plus years ago.

The barefoot drummer conjures a pounding and rolling of dark atmospherics, a railroad train of desolation, and stomps on to a feisty but disciplined close. The shoeless front man does all the rest. Pedals allow him to contribute bass lines in the form of sparing throbs, lonesome track-trundling and modulated hums. He provides vocals where needed, careworn drawls and agonised wails. But the all-powerful voice here is the guitar. The guitar speaks with intricacy and anger. It speaks about hearts torn apart. It speaks in bluesy, closely picked hooks, plucking and jangling. It rasps, squeals and twangs. This is a rare duo that is able to leave the audience awestruck. Everyone is aware that there is genius in the room, an encore is demanded. And so the dark blues makes a brief return, complete with guitar pyrotechnics and a tormented plea: “Oh Lord, have mercy!”