Oh my god! The Dwarves in a venue with the floor space of most living rooms was always gonna be good/interesting/scary (delete as applicable), but who'd have thought it would be this good/scary/downright fucking life-affirming (no deletion required).

You tend to forget just how fucking incendiary the Dwarves are, as between seeing them live you're left with the comparatively sedate affair of listening to their utterly excellent catalogue in domestic safety.  It's only when you're 20ft away from the inimitable Blag Dahlia and co. as they blast through 20-something songs in 40 minutes, that you realise both you and they are teetering on a knife edge, with a live show that's only seconds from blowing up in your face.  Despite the absence of Hewhocannotbenamed (probably a blessing tonight, considering the very short distance his bare manhood would have been from most people's faces) the line-up Blag has assembled on this tour is pretty fucking shit-hot.  Every nasty riff and melody is nailed with lethal precision and combined with rhythm section (who spends most of the gig almost daring someone to set foot on stage for more than a second), The Dwarves hand out an object lesson in how punk rock is supposed to be played.  Fuck between-song banter, fuck stage management just let the Dwarves blow your face off.  Blag makes a few visits into the crowd just for good measure as they career through their aforementioned back catalogue at warp speed 10, visiting the usual favourites like 'We Must Have Blood', 'Astroboy' and 'Back Seat Of My Car' along the way.  A Hewhocannotbenamed impersonator jumps up for the last couple of songs, Blag launches himself into the crowd one last time, and the drum-kit gets trashed before various items are thrown at the crowd to signal the end of quite possibly one of the greatest 40 minutes of punk rock I've seen in a long, long time.

But that's not all, oh no!  To make things even better this gig had a pretty damned good set of supports as well, with a combination of a real surprise package and a couple of old faves.

First up were locals The Fuck Buddies who saunter onto the floor and literally explode into a brief set of Hives/Knack/Ruts punked up rock 'n' roll that leaves most in attendance uttering "Fucking hell they were good, who are they?".  Deliberately shunning any commercial intent or self-promotion this lot could be a serious bunch to watch if they can be bothered. 

Next were F.U.K., current focus of Bristol punk stalwart and ex-Chaos UK guitarist Gabba.  Their rapid fire Discharge/GBH/Chaos UK (obviously) infused crust punk gets a warm reception and adds a welcome bit of bottom end into the night's equation.

Main support and providing the perfect hors d'ouevre to The Dwarves are Belfast loons The Dangerfields.  Whenever "The Godfather" Andrew Griswold is up on stage, holding court behind his kit you know you're gonna have a very fun and very rocking half hour and tonight is no different.  Steamrollering through the likes of 'Rock Club', '1955', 'Wolf Man' and 'Gimme, Gimme Rock 'N' Roll', current line-up of AG, Jake and new bassist Dave McLennan (who gets thumbs-up from the Uber collective for his Sodom sticker) leave everyone smiling and nodding approvingly in preparation for the onslaught that was yet to come.

As everyone makes their way out of what has become a medium-sized sauna, you are left with that usual post-Dwarves feeling of "How can a band be that fucking good, melodic, insane, dangerous and infectiously catchy every time you see them?"  And the best thing is you'll think the same next time as well.  See you then!

The Dwarves poster cums courtesy of the uber cool people at Jacknife Posters.