Homecoming shows are always wonderfully exciting, yet tonight seems to transcend this somewhat as The Unthanks tackle the wonderfully grandiose settings of Newcastle’s City Hall. The evening begins with Adrian from the band taking to the stage, with a run down of how things were going to go. Shunning the traditional support, interval and main act in favour of a slightly more balanced approach.

So first to appear are Stockton’s The Young’uns who are to open both parts of the set this evening with short 10-minute bursts of excitement, something that may not be present in The Unthanks' set. Opening up with a Billy Bragg cover and moving swiftly on to a song about the filming of Benefits Street, with no instruments they do well to stun and silence this packed crowd and it’s a wonderful feat.

Their sense of humour shines through, alongside their excitement of being on such a wonderful stage. After a very short set they graciously announce the arrival of The Unthanks. As the band take to the stage, the crowd erupts though the mood is also somewhat subdued.

However, this isn't a problem playing tracks from the wonderful new album Mount The Air, which is a real treat. 'Last Lullaby' sounds astoundingly beautiful this evening, to me this first part of the set shows how The Unthanks so effortlessly throw away the meaning of genre. With their own style firmly in place, they fly through a beguiling first set, which closes with the most exciting track yet.

The album title track, played in its entirety of ten minutes, with its unrivalled beauty, is the perfect way to close out a set like this. As we’re left open-mouthed by the amazing music and dancing we’ve just experienced. The band exits for a short interval, ever the true professionals they spend their interval meeting and greeting the crowd in the foyer.

As we reconvene The Young’uns once again are allowed out to play. Another short blast of jovial excitement including some toilet humour is all over too fast as they finish off the second of their sets, with a rabble-rousing audience participation sea shanty. Yet it once again falls to The Unthanks to calm the audience, with yet another wonderful track from Mount The Air.

This time entitled 'For Dad', arguably the most touching song of the evening as a conversation between fiddle player Niopha Keegan and her father is aired, before a beguiling instrumental track ensues. Followed closely by the wonderful 'Magpie', this is arguably one of the highlights for me the harmony created between the three voices is otherworldly.

Its undoubtedly clear that The Unthanks have traditional North Eastern music coursing through their veins, yet they’ve taken that and applied so much more to it. As they’ve transcended the folk clubs and ploughed their own furrow, taking in a variety of exciting influences on the way. Culminating in their record entitled The Songs Of Robert Wyatt And Antony & The Johnsons.

Some of which are on display this evening, 'Out Of The Blue' is an instant hit as their beautifully orchestrated version makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. These musical chameleons take on any challenge; it’s hard to convey the plethora of musical ability and talent that every member possess.

There are so many twists and turns throughout this evening's set; there is no point in trying to pin them down as they’d probably rebel and do something different just to spite you, in a nice way of course. We found it easier to blindly follow, we’re so glad we did as we were taken to so many magical places in one evening.  

The Swingin’ Utters are a San Francisco mainstay, bringing their folk influenced street punk sounds to our collective consciousness’ since the late 1980s with anger and integrity and returning from a lengthy hiatus in 2010 refreshed to throw themselves into regular touring and the subsequent recording of three albums. The third of these, Fistful of Hollow, was released in December – meaning a tour was bound to be in the offing sooner rather than later. The London date of this tour fell on a cold Friday night in March, but of course not too cold to brave a couple of street beers before the event. We got into the venue in time to see In Evil Hour, whose gravel-voiced, gothic tainted punk rock in the vein of the Nerve Agents or a much gnarlier version of early AFI quickly draws interested early arrivals to the front. The venue itself is in a roomy basement hidden in the depths of a warren-like building, with the upstairs bar kicking out Cock Sparrer and Ramones tunes to get the punters in the right frame of mind. In Evil Hour go all out with a set of violently tuneful songs and a singer with a much larger stage presence than her small frame.

With everyone’s ears and livers suitably warmed, Swingin’ Utters/One Man Army side project ToyGuitar hit the stage and launch into a set of garagey fuzzed out pop punk. Oozing with energy, there is an edge to their live set not conveyed by their recordings and, like In Evil Hour beforehand, I would highly recommend checking them out. The summery vibes evoked by jangling guitar chords and harmonies somehow didn’t sound out of place on a cold spring night in London and the quickly filling room showed how much word of mouth about these guys is spreading. After a short break and a possibly ill-advised addition of spirits to my night’s intake, the Swingin’ Utters hit the stage with Miles Peck and Jack Dalrymple still looking amped despite the previous set’s exertions. The Utters are a band with a commanding presence, in no small part due to singer Johnny Bonnel’s on-stage contortions and furious renditions of the songs for which he takes lead vocal. Even when another member is at the vocal forefront, he is likely to be moving as much as any of the happy drunkards dancing and shouting every word down the front. Classics such as ‘Next in Line’ and ‘No Eager Men’ are peppered throughout a set heavy on material from the new album – which, luckily, is banging, with the songs performed last night already sounding firmly entrenched as live favourites.

As the last chords of the encore die down, I can’t imagine anyone not leaving with a smile on their face. The night sums up the variety and innovation which can be found within the punk scenes, all three bands with their own distinct sound but complimenting each other perfectly. A good sound and venue is the icing on a scuzzy cake, so if you didn’t catch this show then I highly recommend checking out the Pipeline!

 Sleaford Mods are like Marmite to say the least. For some they’re one of the most interesting, forward thinking and exciting acts around right now. Others? They don’t seem to get what it is all about. For us, we fall firmly in the former bracket. These two guys are speaking out for the working class and it shows tonight, as this backwater venue is rammed to its rafters and filled with angst and cheap lager. They’re definitely a band of the people.

Arriving fairly late due to car trouble, we catch part of Interrobang’s set. The project of former Chumbawumba lead singer and drummer, it doesn’t set our world alight, though that may be because the excitement of seeing Sleaford Mods is clouding our judgement somewhat, but either way, we struggle to get into them.

On another day, this would almost certainly have been a lot different, but unfortunately tonight is what it is for us and as they leave, the stage it is cleared and all that is left is a sole microphone and a couple of beer crates with a laptop atop them but, as the guys themselves hang around the venue greeting every fan who is willing to approach them, we’re struck by their friendly off-stage personas.

However, with Jason Williamson once the beats start playing and he takes to the stage, we’re faced with an altogether different proposition. His snarling delivery of these intricate spoken word pieces is jaw dropping, there’s ferocity to his delivery, a real anger, a pent up angst that is only let out on stage. Whilst the beats back up these anger filled tirades, you struggle to notice them over the man who’s taunting the crowd with every word that leaves his mouth.

Yet the crowd are besotted as Williamson wanders around in a circle during the instrumental parts of some of the tracks, waving in a camp manner towards his adoring fans. There is a deeper meaning to these tirades though, tracks like 'Jobseeker' are prefixed with quotes like “you’ll all know this one, its your morning tomorrow” before going on to recite his encounters with the job centre, Hilarious though they may be, they’re wholly real to so many.

Sleaford Mods pull very little punches as you would expect, not wanting to turn this into a political exploration of their work but there are undertones throughout the set. Only one is made explicit though, as they launch into ‘Tweet Tweet Tweet’, a punishing demolition of a prominent political party.

‘A Little Ditty’ goes down particularly well though, as does the ever brilliant ‘Tied Up In Nottz’, their set feels like a whirlwind of intensity and excitement; their power and influence clear from the outset, they’re using this stage to promote a number of messages. It's understandable why a lot of people don’t get them, they’re not your typical ‘band’ and as we watch on tonight we take a moment to re-consider Sleaford Mods.

Yes they aren’t your average run of the mill, landfill indie nonsense born initially from teenage angst, before being moulded into a record company's vision of the next big thing. To us they seem like hard working decent people, from their interactions both on and off the stage, they’re passionate, keen and, more to the point, approachable decent people - something that is seldom seen in today’s music industry.

Quite why Leeds-based noiseniks Menace Beach are tonight's openers is a little difficult for one to comprehend; their revolving cast of members are arguably far more relevant to today's current musical climes than The Ordinary Boys could hope to be ever again, not to mention the distinct lack of embarrassing TV panel show appearances which works in MB's favour. Such is the case though, and whilst the band take to the stage in front of a less-than-capacity crowd, they unsurprisingly aim to tear The Ritz a new one.

Playing a set comprised almost entirely of tracks from their recently released debut Ratworld, there are definitely those in the audience who appreciate what they're seeing, and fan-favourite 'Honolulu' provides the first evidence of the carnage that will later unfold. For the most part however, the majority of the audience appear more concerned with the overpriced drinks on offer, though there are those in the know too, and by the time they close with the excellent 'Lowtalkin'', there's more than a few converts in the crowd. Though they've been dubbed as a “supergroup” that holds connotations of stardom, and the members of Menace Beach are far from household names. That said however, they are a band on the cusp of breaking through, and the fact that they're an amalgamation of such disparate yet defining parts will make it all the more sweeter for the UK underground when they do.

With the crowd beginning to get somewhat antsy over the prospect of The Cribs, The Ordinary Boy's set falls largely on deaf ears and whilst once-established tracks such as 'Over The Counter Culture' do find some footing with the crowd, newer material slips and lands flat on its face. It's a shame really, as the energy and urgency with which the band play is impressive, it just feels like it's too little too late.

“We're The Cribs, and we're from Wakefield,” shouts frontman Ryan Jarman as he bounds on to the stage, complete with trademark box fringe and fertility-damaging jeans, the band really do love to remind people where they're from. It feels a little needless, given that they're ten years in to a career and arguably the town's best-known export, but there are those in attendance tonight for whom this will be their first experience of the band; their fresh faces beacons of false-hope among a sea of grizzled veterans, and my god, are they in for something special.

Much like last year's Payola, tonight's setlist is greatest hits of sorts, with the brothers rattling through fan-favourites such as 'Mirror Kisses' and 'Martell' in excellent fashion. Of course there is new material on offer as well (“We're gonna play some new ones now, but we’d prefer it if you pretended you knew them instead of just standing there.”). Unsurprisingly these tracks are met with as much gusto as the likes of the ironic 'Hey Scenesters', and as mosh pits open and close within the heaving mass of bodies a few feet below the balcony, not for the first time are we glad of the relative comfort we're in by comparison.

There's a reason why The Cribs are still relevant when so many of the contemporaries have fallen by the wayside, and believe it or not, it isn't their diversity. The Cribs carved their niche years ago, taking their place as indie royalty despite the fact they've never reached the dizzying heights enjoyed by the likes ofKasabian or Arctic Monkeys. Instead the band have maintained an Everyman approachability, something that can't be said for Alex Turner and co, and the fact they can not only sell out venues such as The Ritz, but also tear the metaphorical roof off with tracks over a decade old is a testament to both the band, and their fans. And having heard material from the forthcoming record, it's safe to say the band won't be going any where any time soon.

Photo: Michael Bond