I needed an excuse on a metal-afflicted Friday night in July like Whitney Houston needs crack.

The olds at Uber Rock, with their ear hair like Marc Storace's chest, were doing their best to get me to accompany their patchouli-smelling selves to see Judas Priest in Newport Centre. This presented me with two problems; the first was that I saw Priest in the same venue in 1988 and, apart from being one of the worst gigs I have (still, to this day) ever seen, attending got me kicked out of college - yes, my future life choices were affected by Rob Halford. I wouldn't have minded if the gig had been decent. It wasn't. Support band that night were German herr metallers Bonfire who, bless them, were as appealing as dinner at Jeffrey Dahmer's apartment block.

This talk of support bands gets me to problem number two; Queensryche. The twice I have been unlucky enough to catch these one-decent-album flukes at festivals has resulted in me having to give the sound guy a list of my favourite songs just in case he had to play them over the PA to wake me out of my coma. I have seen Judas Priest live since that fateful day in the Eighties and, happily, they proved that they are, indeed, heavy metal legends. Still, I needed to be a Judas Priest fan on this particular night like I needed a hole in the head....

Then, flying in to my rescue like Han Solo in A New Hope (theatrical, none of that Greedo shot first shit), came talk of a stunning four band bill taking place on the very same night. The desperate hopes of my colostomied comrades to get me in a leather cap in a sports hall were lost, I was going to be hanging with the cool kids at the EVI.

Ebbw Vale Institute, to give it its full name, is quickly becoming a fan-favoured venue on the local live music scene. Four great bands later on July 15^th further confirmed this. Four bands who, seriously, made up one of the most exciting gig line-ups that I have seen for some time, certainly locally. No duff bedroom band support slots tonight, this was a full-on rock show spitting the night's antics into the history books of a region's music community.

First up from this quartet of ass-kicking and excellent bands was The Hotel Ambush. This young band's seven track debut, 'Condemned', startled the ears off the majority of jaded individuals at URHQ when it turned up for review several months ago, seemingly coming out of nowhere and blowing us away. They may walk a well-worn path with their brand of metalcore, utilising the guttural delivery of frontman Lee Newbold juxtaposed with the clean vocals of guitarist Adam Winstone to great effect, but they do it as well as any band out there right now. Their version of 'Right Round', Flo Rida's bastardized version of the Dead Or Alive classic, offers a little light relief, otherwise this is a brutal exercise in how to open a show. Technically superb, this band will have to beat away sharks in a scene drowning in similar bands but, with Newbold offering something a little different, image-wise at least, there is plenty of hope for them. If they roll with the punches then this band will grow. A great start to the night.

I make no secret of my man-love for Lifer. I have never seen them have a bad gig, never seen them have an average one, actually. They are a colossus on the local scene and deserve, possibly more than any of their contemporaries, to kick this on nationally. That this gig comes less than twenty four hours after the ten-legged doom machine was confirmed to appear at this year's Bloodstock Open Air festival proves that this decibel disease is ready to break through any infection containment zone and contaminate all. Tighter and heavier than ever, Lifer pulverize all in attendance with, if you have ever been lucky enough to witness this savagery before, a customary heavy duty set. Bookending a slab of Southern-tainted, sludge-riddled metal with opener 'Curse Them Out' and the awesome set closer 'Raging Waters', the band preach to the converted with an stun gun of a performance, converting ever more before the (sadly shortened due to time restraints) set is over. The only blip on an otherwise perfect kill is the comedy fall of guitarist Web, breakdancing his way around the plywood before rolling off the side of the stage like a Seventies detective rolled over a car bonnet, admirably not missing a note as he continued to throw out wrecking balls of riffmongery. That he then struggled to actually get back on the stage meant that this was the trip that kept on giving. This heavy metal hiccup should not take away from the fact that Lifer slay, every fucking time.

The Guns disappoint me. Not musically - fucking hell, they're incredible - but aesthetically; they don't have a girl drummer anymore. As pathetic as this may sound, and the band's current drummer is, in fact, awesome, it is with a slight twinge of sadness that I welcome them into my eyes and ears on this drizzly Friday in South Wales. Seriously though, I was curious to see how the band, self described as "Straight up, balls out, rock and roll", would fare on a bill where the three other bands were decidedly heavier. If that curiosity spread through the room as they opened their set it soon evaporated as they tore into second song, the classic 'It's On Like Donkey Kong', and never looked back. Frontman Alex Wiltshire is as good as they come; charismatic, crazed and cruelly talented. He lubricates the ladies in the room into life and suddenly this is a dirty smear of a rock show. 'You Can Eff Right Off', 'Treacle And Pie', the fantastic songs just keep on coming. The pop sensibilities of the band have stuck with them as they have grown into more of a garage rock outfit - think a heavenly hybrid of Head Automatica and Thin Lizzy - and live they simply own. Not convinced? Witness the legion of voices singing along to the breakdown in 'Gordons And Lemonade' and think again. I love The Guns - nuff said.

Revoker disappoint me too, simply because I think this will be one of the last times that we will get to see them in venues like this. That they are destined for bigger and better things seems a gross understatement. The raw promise that these four young mofos showed when performing under their previous name has come to fruition in some style. I saw them hold their own - way more so, actually - when opening for Rob Zombie earlier this year and, sandwiching appearances at some of Europe's biggest rock and metal festivals between support slots with the likes of Ozzy Osbourne and Sepultura, the band have upped the ante since the release of their debut album, 'Revenge For The Ruthless' (which I seriously love), and are more than ready to step up a division or two.

Crashing in with stunning album opener 'Time To Die', Revoker waste no time in educating everyone in attendance with a lesson in how to turn in a well-honed, professional performance whatever the circumstance, location or situation. The greatest thing about it all, and this is key, is that they seem to be having fun with it. The cadre of kick-ass songs that they spew out into the night appear to be played effortlessly, naturally. This is a gang of enormously talented young fuckers who seem set to spend time staring down at starstruck fans from posters on bedroom walls. The sections of the music press who deem the band to be unoriginal miss the point, severely. The effectiveness of the band's music is unquestionable, unarguable. This is stripped down, raw, powerful metal with not a speck of fashion-following polluting its power. Frontman Jamie Mathias's Pantera shirt might slap the band's main influence front and centre but these guys have every attribute needed to succeed in a business that suffocates 99% of real talent. The quality of his voice, holding up after a legion of gigs and travelling, belies the guy's mere twenty years on this planet.

Laying waste to the venue with the majority of the songs from their, truly superb, debut album, Revoker turn this historic building into a mass of flailing limbs, broken glass and raised horns. 'Psychoville', 'Cold Embrace', 'Nature Of The Beast' - everyone here, surely, must believe that they are in the presence of greatness. Lifer vocalist Scriv gets up to sing 'The Great Pretender' (which we learn will be the band's next music video) with Mathias and, thankfully, refrains from singing the "We wanna fuck you, Jay" line. That he leaves the stage with a wound to his eye says it all about the punishment that this hugely impressive band are dishing out to all patrons of this bouncing establishment.

Claiming that they would rather be playing covers in pubs, the band launch into a cool Pantera/Black Sabbath medley before hammering out a classic version of AC/DC's 'T.N.T.' - ever heard a band make an AC/DC tune their own? Me neither....until tonight. This is stunning stuff. The bruising 'Stay Down' makes an appearance a song earlier than I thought - everyone, by now, is moving to this - as the band end the set with the chugging excellence of 'Born To Be An Outlaw'.

Jesus, I remember a time when the best things Wales had to offer musically were Shakin' Stevens and Bonnie Tyler, when the country's favourite personality was Errol The Hamster. In around three and a half hours four Welsh bands, scrub that, four awesome South Wales bands, tore up the rulebook and announced that this shit was real...and essential.

Nights like this are rare - if you missed it, for whatever reason, then you are not only unlucky but also a little retarded. Discover these bands if you haven't already, but remember that gigs like this might already be behind Revoker.

This may well prove to be one of those timeless "I was there" moments....

[Live photos by Ashlea Matthews]