Most recently seen touring with grunge-rock conspirators Drenge, Traams’ reputation as serial show-stealers in support slots made this appearance as headliners a rare treat.

Their first full release, Grin, proved a masterclass in snotty post-punk and Krautrock grooves last year, and their snarly set – clocking in at under an hour, and barely pausing for breath – was a wilder exposition of the hook-laden menace which was the signature of their debut album.

Singer Stu Hopkins’ vocals find little middle ground between growling hum and a pained, howling yelp. If the band occasionally seemed troubled by technical annoyances, their relentlessness and rhythm still stood out, Leigh Padley’s basslines creating a constant, dance-like pulse of sound, backed by Adam Stock’s subtle-yet-fierce drumming.

The shotgun-style opening to the angry Low carried a barbed intensity. “And I’m losing my ability, to judge what is the best of me”, lamented Hopkins, building to a shriek.

Flowers, meanwhile, managed an indifferent anti-romanticism, ending on a blistering, faintly psychedelic guitar jam. They exited with a murmur, but their glee at creating an extraordinary racket was never far from the surface.