Sky Larkin & The Cribs @ Wichiten, The Relentless Garage, London

We’ve reached mid-week for the Wichita Records 10th anniversary shindig, and some people look visibly broken by the preceding days of late nights and heavy boozing. Sullen eyes and battered clothing is a look that suits, though, as tonight’s bill makes for the label’s most rock n roll of spawn.

So what would a good birthday celebration be without a speech or two? “We are Sky Larkin and you are in the house of Wichita,” declares Katie Harkin like some kind of headmistress giddy on gin at the jubilee celebrations. But her message is a clear kick up the bum for anyone faltering, as the three-piece race into extraordinarily loud cuts from new album Kaleide. Nestor the drummer has apparently no knowledge of the word subtle, compounding our ears throughout the epic ‘Still Windmills’ and amazingly amplified ‘Pika’.

If you thought The Cribs had gone flaccid, racing to put a gladioli in their back pockets; think again. Marr has gone awol (something about Inception) and the three young scallywags are left to run rampage with a Garage crowd in the mood to get sweaty. As is fitting for the line-up of old, their set consists of the brothers Jarman riffing off each other’s vocals and tearing through the first two albums, while Ross literally straddles the drum kit.

Wild eyed and impassioned lyrics about drinking and lust, The Cribs self titled debut sounds just as raw as it did some six years ago, with ‘You Were Always The One’ shining like a sentimental diamond in the rough.

While the first half of the set is characterised by excitement and leaping around, well, the second half is equally so – only this time for some of the band’s finest numbers. As Ryan Jarman puts it, “It sounds dead narcissistic but I f*cking love this record”. ‘Hey Scenesters!’ is still guitar chugging heaven that sees the boys crossing ‘harmonies’ like a ball in the playground, i.e. highly unrefined, and ‘The Wrong Way To Be’ sees the front of the venue clear, as nearly everyone is on someone’s shoulders, floating stage-wards.

An adrenaline fix, that seems it was much needed for some of Wichiten’s hardened followers, a bonafide stage invasion was only the next natural step. Maximum abrasive fun with The New Fellas, but as they say in ‘We Can No Longer Cheat You’ it would definitely be a case of “turning in at 8(pm), what’s that about?”