Looking like Pavement if they appeared on QI, Ezra Furman and his new(ish) band The Boy-Friends presented a version of America that was scrappy, wayward and thrilling.

The college vibe surrounding the five-piece was only visual though, as their sound splattered through the saxophone of 1950s rock ’n’ roll, Jonathan Richman simplicity, Springsteen’s rabble rousing and a distinct bite from the Pixies.

It was impossible to take one’s eyes from Furman, with his ill-fitting leather jacket and crazed stare, who was enchanted by the audience. Starting with I Wanna Destroy Myself and touching frequently on the Day Of The Dog album, he threw himself into the setlist fearlessly, with only the tone, never the pace, dropping below frenetic.

Even the dark content of his old Harpoons’ song I Killed Myself But I Didn’t Die failed to drag things down, adding weight to what could have veered into revivalism (a vibrant cover of Train In Vain also escaped cliche).

By the time they played current single Anything Can Happen, the room erupted.

“I feel like there are more people in this room than on the whole of our last US tour,” he beamed at the close, and the sold-out venue roared back in approval. A stunning, life-affirming night.