We knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. Three of the most fearsomely heavy units the UK has seen in a long, long time currently on a mission to assault the nation’s senses with mind-blowing intensity on a noisy three week tour of our hallowed toilets. Scared? Just ask the supposedly hard nu-metallers seen running out of the venue screaming during Mínus’s soundcheck! Pah! And so, with both fear and intrepidation we enter the Fibbers, not quite sure what to expect from these kings of noise-core.

Cockney oiks Matter are the first band to take the stage, warming the crowd up with their viscerally sharp grinding thrash a la Napalm Death. But with their shoes seemingly glued to the spot, one could confuse their performance as a mere soundcheck such is the level of fret-staring going on. Indeed, Matter don’t seem at all comfortable onstage and seem a little under-rehearsed for a band on such a high-profile tour. As their set finally draws to a close it becomes apparent that Yorkshire’s hair-shakers will be saving their energy for the nights more visual, louder bombardments.

Mínus fall into this category. They’ve been scaring the hell out of Iceland’s locals for the past three years and have garnered praise and respect through live shows that have left the audiences speechless, breathless and exhausted. But it’s only now that they’ve been able to bring their live show over here. And boy, is it worth the wait! Mínus are the aural equivalent of a spark in a fireworks factory. Curver’s eerie ten-minute intro acts as a discomforting precursor of what’s to follow as these strange bleeps and swirls tempt the band onstage. Mínus calmly walk on, plug in and without warning, while the backing drone is still reverberating, scare seven shades of pooh out of the front row and blast us all with the opening track from their recently-released second album ‘Jesus Christ Bobby’ with ‘Chimera’. As vocalist, Dave Wyndorf look-a-like, Krummi sways and kicks his way round the stage in a Medulla Nocte fashion you’re constantly having to pick your jaw up off the ground; so shocked are you that a band this devastatingly awesome can seemingly appear out of nowhere and give you an experience like no other.

As complex rhythms and obscure frequencies shatter your ear drums in songs like ‘Modern Haircut’ with it’s rumbling bass lines running throughout, you start to feel glad you left that curry until after the show. For those who’ve managed to survive this ferocity, one thing’s for sure that from now on, when they think of Iceland, Björk will be the furthest from their mind.

And so onto tonight’s headliners Charger, a band who scare young children and cause grown men to weep. OK, admittedly that was before the show in McDonalds but this is still a band with a unique sound so virulent that should World War III happen, this will be the band playing the soundtrack. Bursting on the stage the new line-up seem to have upped the pace a little since their last outing and although their new, ostensibly shy, bassist Tom seems intent on having his back to the audience this is a band who’s sound sends shivers down my back every time. Throughout their performance Charger’s side-splitting humour is kept under wraps, so monstrously intense is their sound. That is, to the casual observer who may miss the between-song gargles such as “COCK! PISS! CHARGER!”

But then, they’re probably focussing all their efforts on digesting Charger ‘classics’ like Immense Mammoth, which are, incidentally, as mesmerising as ever tonight and proving that when it comes to punishingly loud, deep sludge, Charger are unsurpassable!

As Mogwai once said music should be felt and not heard and nowhere is it more true than at this gig tonight.