There’s no way not to sound sexist or pervy saying this, but women in bands are easily fifty thousand times better than their penis-ed equivalents. Movement, presense: boner. Pens tick every other box in my brain too: clattering, shambolic amateurishness, instrument swapping, fun over technique. Two thirds of them used to be in (Look Look) Dancing Boys, who played a great, febrile PeppermintPatti show a year or two ago, all youth, shyness and booze. Adding an extra member hasn’t really changed the plan much: simple primitivist guitar, stand up drumming, two finger keyboard, off-mic singing, drunk harmonies. A riot in party form then, led by a cross between Mick Jagger and Joanna Lumley’s character in Absolutely Fabulous. Endless fun, except they finish after 25 minutes.