Vivers: No use being objective here: I’ve got a MASSIVE boner for Fringes. The guitars chug and strafe, dancing round or rubbing up against the constant saxophone, the rhythm section holding down the two elastic leads. The whole thing is like some fantastic jazz-fueled post rock barndance: mellow, awkward, gliding. I could watch them play for hours.

Saesneg: I dunno. There’s something to be said for avoiding traditional post-rock cliches – such as massive crescendos and the like – but this seems to leave them and find nothing to replace them with. Maybe its the flu – this could be my excuse all night – but Fringes seem to start nowhere and end nowhere with no obvious beginning, middle and end to their songs. Or maybe I just don’t like sax.

Vivers: Stray Borders have never really progressed beyond ‘pretty good’ in my red eyes, but it’s hard not to get a little choked tonight, as the band stumble through thanks before the last song they’ll ever play together. They’ve always been one of the more restrained of the fiddly instrumentalists, cold guitar lines slowly evolving and circling each other, occasionally igniting. Tonight’s bow out shows similar restraint, but flares briefly at the end, the guitarist allowing himself a sly giggle over the noise. Then they’re gone.

Saesneg: I’ve only seen Stray Borders three times in South Wales, and I’m sure the friends and adopted families who have turned out have seen them more than that. They do, or rather did, the swirling guitar build up-come crashing down routine pretty damn competently. Tonight they’re sadly on top form – this is the best I’ve seen them but as the band say a couple of rehearsals between November and now aren’t going to cut it. The members break out into smiles, and at the end of the set give us a bow. As do the audience, who mostly dissappear.

Vivers: Allowing themselves a one gig release from forthcoming album hell, and all dressed in black, Oxford’s Rock Of Travolta decide on attack tactics, which to start with means galloping, flailing space rock. How great are Rock Of Travolta? We’re back to massive boner I’m afraid: this form of rocking post rock is turbo charged, itchy segments of fiddly noise fizzing into bangs and back again. It’s super tight and purposeful, anchored by the mournful, driving cello that all bands like this should have. Kudos to Pedigree Falcon for pursuing them for years, less kudos to the handful of cunts who left after Stary Borders, and antipathy to hangovers and duff ears.

Saesneg: Hurrah for Oxford – producers of such fine guitar mess ups as Youthmovies and Rock of Travolta. Watching Rock is kind of like what I imagine Late of the Pier would have been like if they were more interested in Mogwai than Battles. There’s bits of 65daysofstatic here but with far more guitar – it’s quite charged and dynamic with the band unafraid to use samples or electric cellos, and it’s quite fast paced, refusing to meander like many of their post-rock cousins. Shame few stuck around (possibly not surprising in the circumstances) but their loss, innit?