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ALLOW me one moment to retrieve my jaw from the floor while simultaneously trying to comprehend quite how spectacular The Long Insiders are...
This quartet is as stylistically exceptional as they are musically – the men in sharp suits and ties, female singer Sarah Dodd favouring a classy black dress and high heels, her head crowned by a dressy veiled hat.
They serve a punchy cocktail of spaghetti western and surf rock inspired melodies swimming in 60s and 70s musical nostalgia and trading in on influences from Tom Waits and Johnny Cash to the Cramps, who they dedicate T.V Set to.
Suave guitarist Nick Kenny delivers lavish guitar melodies to die for, accompanying a deep bottom-of-the-barrel drawl reminiscent of Nick Cave's vocal style.
An on-stage chemistry exists between him and the china doll-like Dodd, who clicks her heels and shuffles coquettishly across stage, sipping from a wine glass while breaking hearts and winning over minds with her powerful glass-shattering vocals.
Earlier openers Dial F For Frankenstein have the unenviable task of playing to an early-evening crowd barely reaching double figures.
If it bothers them, they don't show it, even managing to coax a head-banging audience member out of the shadows to leap around wildly in the gaping void that lies in front of the stage.
If The Long Insiders are the sumptuous main course though then headliners Borderville must be the over-indulgent yet impossible to resist dessert – whisking the audience off to their highly theatrical, opulent musical land of glam rock masterpieces with brutal staccato riffs.
Joe Swarbrick, a crop of hair sprouting from beneath a bowler hat, is becoming ever more comfortable as rock puppet master, attacking his instrument like some Guitar Hero champion in a pastiche of many of the showy rock greats from Bowie to Queen.
Meanwhile Pianist Woody Woodhouse's fingers race across the keys as he waves his arms aloft conductor-like, leaping about in an overly agile manner for someone who broke their leg recently, in a set that is over all too quickly.
In all a musical feast that leaves even the most voracious listener sated.

The Fly

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