Don’t let the hipster imagery put you off too much: Tweak Bird have got all the glorious dumb noise-riffola but not much of the irony on their debut album.

Now listen up: if it’s spit’n'sawdust bar-room blues-rawk’n'roll you’re after, it doesn’t come much louder or more fun than a Nashville Pussy live set.

Synthetic rockers The Culprit might be a little too glossy for this jaded hack, but their eponymous album might turn the heads of younger less cynical listeners.

You can’t stop the rock’n'roll, and you certainly can’t stop Israeli garage loons Monotonix from touring and penning loud, brief and charmingly noisy records.

Stoner-rock bodhisattvas My Sleeping Karma spin the wheel of rebirth a third time on Tri, which is heavy post-rock or mellow post-metal, or something in between.

It’s party-time comedy funk-rawk all night long with endearingly fun two-piece The Inspector Cluzo, better known in some quarters as The French Bastards…

It wouldn’t be a Future Of The Left show without the equipment failures… but the Mclusky covers are unusual. Is this a new phase, or the beginning of the end?

Brighton’s spandex-clad hair-metal superheroes The J.U.S.T.I.C.E. Force 5 don’t “Fight The Fight” so well when taken off the stage and into a studio…

It Only Hurts When We Breathe, the debut album from one-man angsty industrial popster Cancer Killing Gemini, sounds an awful lot like Stabbing Westward used to. Which isn’t a terrible thing.

Second album Sanctuary Come sees Danish sixties-retro psyche-blues bunch Highway Child raise their game… but not as much as they needed to.