Bronto Skylift, King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut, Glasgow

Paws are a young three piece who are among the most exciting acts playing in Glasgow at the moment. Their skinny be-fringed teenage exuberance has been in evidence at a string of support slots for visiting bands including The Dum Dum Girls, No Age and seemingly every other American garage band passing through over the last year. This work rate coupled with their ability to turn out a clutch of new songs each time I’ve seen them play, marks them out as a band finding their own way in a crowded scene. They bypass their earlier peon to bass heroine Kim Deal, instead playing tracks from their limited release, ‘My Parents Said We Can’t See Each Other Anymore’, and the scream-driven ‘Winners Don’t Bleed’.

Front-man Philip ends their all too brief set by descending into the still sparse crowd. He twangs a few sustained notes and tries to hand his guitar to my friend, when she declines the offer I find myself with a guitar strap wrapped around my neck. I hit the strings as Philip disappears back to the stage leaving me to hand the instrument back once the sound has faded out.

St Deluxe are the baggier trousered big brothers of PAWS’ teenage upstarts. They’re raiding the same record box of influences – Sebadoh, early Teenage Fanclub and Sonic Youth among them – but where PAWS veer towards punk, St Deluxe are all about fuzz. Playing to support an EP released for Record Shop Day, the tracks from it - ‘After The Fire’, ‘I Know How You Feel’ and ‘Please Be Gentle’, are the stand outs in a noisy set. They may literally wear their influences on their chests but they’re growing into themselves, can fill the room and maybe now with bands like Yuck making a splash in similar territory, their moment is here. A stab at aggressive grunge, the shrieked vocals of ‘Your Blood’, doesn’t cut loose enough to succeed, but set closer ‘Stop Begin’ takes them back to the drone territory of their beloved Spacemen 3, where they seem more at home.

Bronto Skylift, are a two man line up of guitar and drums who conjure an exercise in noise that falls somewhere between Lightening Bolt and Shellac. At first they sound basic, hard and loud but their set up gives them the freedom to break the usual mould and enjoy themselves. Things get progressively heavier but with jazz drum fills; the riff eating its way through single ‘Game, Boy’ and a targeted aggression recalling ‘Big Black’, they get the crowd on side. ‘Wolf’ provides an opportunity to thrash themselves until exhausted and then wreck the stage, throwing drums into the crowd and injecting some chaos into proceedings. It’s the kind of behaviour that might inspire one to email Steve Albini and ask him to produce them, pronto.