It’s a Friday, and 23 year old Avigdor Zahner-Isenberg of Avi Buffalo stands on the deck at the Islington Assembly Hall, relaxed and working his way around an arpeggio. The band have opened with ‘So What’, lead single from his second album with his band. Although your average Avi Buffalo show contains a fair amount of fret-wanking, Zahner-Isenberg’s confidence as a guitar player is pleasantly at odds with his self-consciousness as a lyricist - as this small, white-jeaned Long Beacher cranes his neck to reach his microphone, it’s hard to work out exactly where he’s trying to pitch his tent.

With the rather sad title of At Best Cuckold, the band’s second outing is less winsome, more crafted and a bit less obnoxious than its predecessor. It’s been a four-year wait, and it’s not just the absence of any questionable song titles (although the first album’s delightful ‘Five Little Sluts’ doesn’t get an airing tonight, we are treated to a stripped-down solo rendition of the evocative, ‘Summer Cum’) that belies his maturity. The new album feels less throwaway, more carefully put together. After the Californian insouciance of their self-title debut, Zahner-Isenberg describes new LP as his ‘tribute to the ballad’, and although the lyrics occasionally still smack of hash-brownie nonsense (“I’m a cheese ball on fire” from ‘Memories Of You’, or the cod-confessional “I ran over two dogs / Then I ate them” from ‘Overwhelmed With Pride’ [unless he actually did that, in which case, harsh mate]), there are some more moving passages to Avi Buffalo songs, more touching than the hey-nonny nonniness of his debut. Although often the vocals still sound like Steven Malkmus having his balls tightly squeezed, when the rest of the band leaves the stage and it’s just this guy in a spotlight, eyes closed, noodling around on ‘Jessica’ or stripping down tracks on a piano, the whole shebang seems less smug, a bit more heartfelt. As he says, ‘I can’t express these thoughts without mistakes’. It almost makes you want to forgive him for the faux-mantic reference “my boner pressed, up to your chest” on ‘Memories Of You’.

And even some of the stranger tracks from Cuckold have a blistered nerve sticking out of them, as the oneiric piano of ‘Oxygen Tank’ (a song borne out of Zahner-Isenberg’s Cormac McCarthy dream about a murderous man with an oxygen tank) is punctured by a heartfelt, non-falsetto “if I don’t start seeing through those lies you tell me every day”. This split between nonsense and tenderness is actually a powerful weapon, because although this Californian wunderkind can nail a distorted a spotlight guitar solo like it was Baker Street in a jazz bar, the mood of his songs can shift from psych madness to sad, alter-ballad in the space of four minutes. As the band return to the stage to finally whip out 2010’s, light and breezy ‘What’s In It For Me’, one is struck with the feeling that four years seem to have taken their toll on Avi Buffalo. And this is no bad thing.

Before We Were Promised Jetpacks roll onto the stage, The Lexington crowd is treated to tremendous support from fellow Scots Fatherson, a Biffy Clyro inspired group of 20-somethings who grab the room by the scruff of the neck with snapping drums and superb vocals. Emblematic of angst-ridden indie rock, Fatherson are a tight outfit that seem destined for huge success. Festival main stages are surely just one or two hits away.

A small wait later and Scottish Indie Rockers We Were Promised Jetpacks burst out of the traps. Now as a five-piece, welcoming Stuart McGachan in on keys, the band have truly mastered the art of the build-up. With phenomenal thunderous rhythm behind each and every song the set is packed full of energy and the hardcore fans at the front are regularly sent into frenzy throughout the night.

Following the release of Unravelling, their third LP, front-man Adam Thompson announces, that “this is the final night of our UK tour so let’s have a party.” With that, every note played and every drum hit feels like it is building to something and it’s clear that even those who had clearly been taken along by friends and partners can’t resist getting involved as the band hit full-throttle.

The difference in style between Unravelling and previous releases, These Four Walls (2009) and In the Pit of the Stomach (2011) is stark when new material is interspersed throughout the setlist. With a slightly slower tempo it creates less furore, feeling more mature and bass-driven, with more intricate compositions replacing the racing indie riffs of old. 

All in all, it’s a hugely energetic show and the crowd ricochets to ‘Short Bursts’ and ‘Quiet Little Voices’, while the highlight of the night comes through ‘Keeping Warm’ which ambles to a huge crescendo sending the venue into raptures. 

The band depart with ‘It’s Thunder and It’s Lightning’ from debut album These Four Walls and the intensity of the track peaks as Adam Thompson screams, “Your body was black and blue.” As it does, it is as if Thompson’s voice is stretching so far it might snap, but it’s this passion, mirrored by the crowd that make We Were Promised Jetpacks so captivating live and a few bodies certainly will be black and blue on Thursday.

Opening up tonight are Newcastle’s band for hire at the moment Them Things, we caught these guys a couple of weeks ago and again we aren’t blown away by their mediocre attempt at doing something different. Next up though were a band that weren’t on any line-up we’d seen in advance nor were they on any of the posters dotted around the venue with the set times on.

Gay were a real surprise. To say we were not expecting these Danish kids to invade the stage is an understatement, their opener was somewhat ramshackle with lead singer Thor mumbling his lyrics whilst breaking his guitar. There is a slight halt to proceedings as Thor fixes said guitar but they continue, and with some ferocity.

We’re really unsure of what to make of them - are they the best thing we’re ever going to see or are they utter rubbish, the jury remains out on that one.* Thor takes to the crowd for the closing track and perches on the seat right in front of me as he just groans into the microphone, it's quite an unnerving experience.

The lights dimmed as the eagerly anticipated Crocodiles storm the stage, opening with ‘Marquis De Sade’ and it's obvious they’re on top form this evening. Confessing that they’re trying out a heap of new songs, we settle in for what turns out to be a trip through an awesome sonic landscape, and they definitely seem to have found their groove; a hefty dose of reverb and wailing guitar lines underpinning this evening's set.

Brandon croons as the ladies swoon, and Charles shreds his guitar throughout. They provide scarce information about the promised new songs, all of which sound impeccable. We’re filled with excitement at the thought of a new album, though there’s a distinct lack of keyboards this evening and the guitars drive the new tracks. Older tracks do appear however, ‘Teardrop Guitar’ stands above the rest, the guitars ultimately consuming us.

As we’re transfixed on Brandon’s presence despite it being damp and wet Monday evening, to us it could be any day of the week as Crocodiles take us on a journey across a beautiful musical soundscape. As the last riff rings out its almost like an awakening as we fall back to reality, slightly saddened as we exit the venue back to the grim night skies and reflect on the brilliance we’ve just witnessed.

*Note: To clear one other thing up we’ve since investigated support band Gay a little more and on record they sound a lot better than they did live, leaving us to conclude that the jury is still firmly out!

The promise of this evening is one we’ve been excited about since the last time Eagulls rolled into town in March, though since then they’ve toured the world and played a multitude of festivals. To begin with there is the small matter of a couple of support bands to attend to.

First up local lads High Tide 15:47. However, by the time we arrive we only have the opportunity to catch the tail end of their set, we’re pleasantly surprised and we shall endeavour to catch them in full in the not so distant future.

Next up though are fellow Leeds natives, Autobahn who were in support last time as well. Tonight, as last time, they don't disappoint. On the face of it, with a name like Autobahn our minds immediately jump to Kraftwerk, but the German name is where the similarities end.

Straight out of the blocks they stamp their authority all over the proceedings, lead singer Craig Johnson bouncing around the stage baiting the crowd. They are a true powerhouse of a punk band, reminiscent of early Wire there’s a real ferocity to the band's delivery, a real angst. To be wholly honest they’re the perfect support band for Eagulls and by the time they leave the stage the crowd is buzzing.

As the lights are dimmed and the projector is started, the crowd chant and the band's opening music plays. Through the darkness they emerge. Wasting no time in lifting the roof, George Mitchell’s ever-passionate vocals echo out through the venue. It's immediate, it's mind blowing, these guys are the perfect live band, blasting through the openers as the over-excited crowd throw themselves in to each other.

Eagull's frequent touring and playing live undoubtedly shows, they’re tighter than any other band around at the moment. By the time ‘Nerve Endings’ gets an airing, the whole venue is awash with flying bodies; the sold out crowd enjoying every second of the set. Mitchell’s visceral delivery intimidates as he moves ever closer to the crowd.

We’re consumed by the intensity of the band like overly excited teenagers, as they work through tracks off their self-titled debut. What we really notice though, is how far these guys have come from first seeing them over three years ago, they’ve honed this huge sound and these awesome walls of noise. Tracks like ‘Fester / Blister’ stand out above others, the eviscerating guitar that hits you is nothing short of face melting. It also has a slightly different element to it, whilst maintaining the intensity.

The most striking thing about Eagulls though is the heart and the honesty of their work. Often described as a band for the realists they’re not afraid to tell it like it is. There are far too many bands that are willing to sugar coat life and create music for the sake of being cool, Eagulls shun ideology in favour of unabashed, no-holds barred honesty.

This evening goes some way in restoring our belief in real British music as Eagulls close out what has been an emphatic set, ending with the utterly awesome ‘Possessed’. We cannot hold them in any higher regard, so few bands around right now are this good and those that are all seem to be emerging from the same area.

Are these five guys going to inspire a generation? Only time will tell but we certainly think they have the potential to.