If you have read the interview with Rich Jones that appeared on Über Röck earlier this month you'd know all about his infamous birthday shenanigans at TJ's in Newport when he was a member of Amen. His recruitment as a Sinatra means that he is in Newport again on the week of his birthday, but this time it coincides with the sad announcement that the legendary TJ's venue is no more. It is time for another Newport venue to fly the flag for rock 'n' roll and tonight sees Le Pub on the Über casting couch.....

I like the place. Labyrinthine stairways, dirty wood, wallpaper hanging from the ceiling like building entrails, classic album covers on the wall. The Über massive were grabbing a Diet Tizer or two downstairs when we heard the dulcet tones of the opening act crashing down the stairs like Father Karras in The Exorcist. We spider-walk up the thirty nine thousand steps and see what appears to be way too many drummers poured into the small space between drumkit and back wall. It is, in fact, the backbeat behemoth who once thumped the tubs for great Welsh band Midasuno. If he ever held a drum clinic it would purely concentrate on cholesterol. More importantly, he plays like a demon, sings like an angel and is part of an insane terror trio that we now know are called All The Damn Vampires. This bunch of noisy, grimy fuckers trade vocals and spit to great effect - seriously, they gob on each other ("that one had Aids in it") right through the set. Dirty bastards. Dirty bastards, however, with a wicked sense of humour and a fistful of great tunes. A fucked kick pedal ends their set early, much to my disappointment. Ones to watch...from a distance.

I'm eager to see Obsessive Compulsive live for the first time. Their debut album is certainly one of 2010's sonic surprises and I'm keen on seeing if they can pull it off live. I'm happy to say that they can. After the merch nerds of Über Röck (myself included) have salivated like the first band over the bass player's vintage Zodiac Mindwarp shirt, I hear my hetero-life-mate Johnny H muttering about Aimee Echo and Human Waste Project. Knowing how much he lusted over....I mean....loved that band tells me that he too is liking what is playing out before us. Flanked by badass bookends, singer Kelii is a blur of attitude, angst and hair just waiting to be copied by impressionable young girls. She appears to have all the tools needed to succeed at this game in her locker, maybe lacking a more commanding stage presence. The album is, seriously, so good that she should have every person in the venue hanging on her every move and word. Fine tuning, that's all it needs. Forget what she says the last song is called, this, in the words of Bret Easton Ellis, is not an exit....

The first thing that I notice about the headliners is the drum kit. Shocking snot green in colour (support band didn't use it so we can't blame them), this minimal kit is how drums are supposed to be. That they will be smacked by Lenny Thomas, who appears to be auditioning for the next George A Romero movie at every moment, is a bonus. With Rich Jones - or Welsh born Richard David Jones as he will forever be known from this point on - replacing Roger Segal, bass duties are now handled by Scott Sorry who, like we didn't already know, is a great frontman in his own right. Funny, charismatic and cool as fuck, Sorry even manages to pull off the pulled-right-up socks look that would get you or I laughed out of every public house in the country.

Opening with 'Burns City Burns', the band proceed to roar through all bar one of the dozen tracks that make up the awesome 'Highball Roller' album. 'No Angels' is followed by 'Riverside' and le pub patrons are having such a good time that Sorry is happy to listen to their, frankly unintelligible, banter between songs. 'Black n' Blue', the storming 'Gimme More' and 'Borrowed Time' remind me why that debut album was one of the finest to be released last year before Scott tells us that the volcanic ash debacle has meant that the band have managed to find the time to film a drunken video for next song, the great 'Hated Heart', which has been immortalized on a limited tour edition seven-inch picture disc that the afore-mentioned Über Nerds will weep over before the night is out.

Guitarist Dave Kerr is introduced as "the one that no-one knows!" so here's his own paragraph. Fuck it, have a picture too. Top bloke!

This tour has been painful for Dave as the band have indulged in matching tattoos, Dave's first. The subject of the tattoos is the song 'So Far From Home' which, like the ink, is as cool as cucumber juice. 'Junkie' follows, then 'Nose Don't Work' which bleeds into a cool cover of 'Where Eagles Dare' by The Misfits. Richard David Jones, who is a tighter fit in the band than OJ Simpson's gloves, takes the mic for a cover of 'Bastards Of Young' by The Replacements before 'Suicide Head' cuts the wrists of the night's punk 'n' roll action.

Sorry and the Sinatras a side-project? Fuck that, this band are full-on friggin' great and I would be happy to listen to them every day for the rest of my rock 'n' roll life! Over the top? Who cares?! I love this band and you should too.

Several vinyl-purchasing minutes later and the ÜR Massive are away and into the night like a cool John Landis movie. Le Pub has passed the oral exam.

Photo kudos to Claire Tidey