You know the feeling you get when you walk into a room and you immediately click with someone you've never met before? Well, that's the feeling I got when I first saw tonight's headliners way back in 2002 (yup that's 2002) in this very same venue on a three band NME bill with Ikara Colt and The Parkinsons. 

It's also the same feeling I got tonight for Cardiff's very own noise mongers Exit International who proceeded to sell me a thirty-minute introduction to their own brand of bass heavy assisted musical suicide. Not unlike a lobotomy by bass (the three piece have two bassists and a animalistic drummer) their frenzied assault on the senses immediately won them many new fans within the packed venue. I was also shocked not to recognise Exit International head screamer Scott (ex of Midasuno) who has morphed from arty rock frontman and guitarist into a total rock n roll bass beast, and it is a rather splendid transformation if ever there was one. Standout track for me 'Sex W/ Strangers' sounded like Mark E Smith jamming with Mondo Generator over a crate of Diamond White.... Bring It On.

Next up was Suicide Party, an unknown band to me, they claim to be from The South, but by the sound of things that must be south of fucking heaven, because they were one hell of a hell fire and brimstone type of musical package. Fronted by what I like to call a 'real frontman' Screaming Joey Outlaw prowled the edge of the stage like the bastard son of Stiv or Lux twisting and contorting himself to the band's gothic keyboard laden sounds.  Mic leads were wrapped around necks on more than one occasion during the band's set of throbbing pulsating dark pop and I have to say that even though I have since checked the band out on Myspace and the usual streaming places, to see Suicide Party live really is the only way to fully understand their real musical tour de force. Anyway, roll on the debut Suicide Party CD - I for one will be eagerly awaiting it.

So with the contenders to their throne still fresh in our minds, Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster seemingly would have a tough act to follow two such strong support acts. Fear not, because as soon as Guy McKnight took up centre stage all moustached up, you can't help but wonder why this band aren't headlining theatres after seven years of doing this fucked up and fantastic shit. It's effortless stuff for a band with such a fine selection of new and old stuff to whet their dedicated minions appetites with, 'I Could Be An Angle' slipping into their set alongside such underground classics as 'Psychosis Safari' and 'Celebrate Your Mother' (which is certainly the track I'd most like to see the talentless cunts on X Factor given...week after week).

Joking aside, it's when newer tracks like 'In The Garden' that Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster display a far more rounded and mature sound that alludes to much bigger and better (but only figuratively speaking) tunes yet to come. Kudos also to new guitarist Tristan McLenahan who throughout the band's set firmly committed his future to Rock 'N' Roll in a sweat bath of frenzied and twisted rifferama, which fitted in perfectly with the remaining four Disaster Brothers.

Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster really are like no other band in the UK today, they are a national musical treasure, long may they bathe in 'Freud's Black Muck'.