Palma Violets dig up gems from a shambles at Glastonbury 2015

Within seconds of arriving on stage, Palma Violets are a shambles. Chilli Jesson’s hit his nose on a microphone and a cut has formed. William Doyle’s drumming is out of time. Everyone’s looking round wondering what the hell’s going on. And yet this is exactly what makes this curious band such a charming entity. 99% of the time they’re on the brink of collapse, and every so often they dig up a gem.

Sam Fryer - who’s never looked closer to Dylan Moran on Black Books, sporting James Bay’s hat - looks the most aware of what’s going on. Kicking off with ‘Rattlesnake Highway’, they rifle through material like their forty-five minute stage time’s been cut to ten. Again, everything veers on the edge of total self-combustion, but like a kid slipping on the ice rink for the first time, they just about hold it together.

And then something like ‘English Tongue’ comes along; an earnest, uplifting blast of folklore and pub rock. The closer from their ‘Danger in the Club’ album, it’s the surest sign yet that Palma Violets know what they’re doing when they put their minds to it. They’re a band who’d always make music like this, regardless of the age or generation they grow up in, no matter the current trends - there’s something unique about that.