The Dead Weather @ The Roundhouse, London

As an eerie fog weaves itself around the heads of the audience. A surreal eye watches down on them with infinite disdain, sewn into the backdrop. Then Jack White comes out - and he's wearing a silly hat.

That's right; The Dead Weather are in town and have turned the Camden Roundhouse into a celebration of all things black clothed and damn right bluesy.

While opening act Band of Skulls deliver a blistering set, with the kind of drumming that could rupture kidneys, they leave the theatrics to the Weather - who adorn the stage with umbrellas and come on with the kind of rock star swagger that only a supergroup could muster.

And swagger they do. Because even though the band's Glastonbury performance may have proved a bitter pill for the sunshine-and-cider revellers to swallow, Camden is far more fitting in both locale and spirit for their gothic bar-room brawl music.

Song after song Alison Mosshart rages around the stage like Siouxsie Sioux’s misbehaving daughter, screaming about lovers, enemies and demonic-named ponies, while Jack lives out all his Bonham fantasies on the kit.

Some tracks work better than others - hit single 'Die By The Drop' is a bit too excited and messy for its own good - but the ticket price is worth it alone for moments such as when Mr White steps out from behind the kit to shred the shit out of funny shaped guitar - using funny sounding pedals in a silly fucking hat.

The crowd leave the night sweaty, eager to purchase a new black shirt, and a bottle of J.D.