Yak, Moth Club, London

Everything about Yak frontman Oli Burslem makes him ready-made for a previous era. Those Jagger looks don’t deceive. His band are an exciting reinvention of past motifs, from the trio’s earth-shaking powerplay to their swarm of deadly psych. There are a thousand groups from the past they could be compared to, but these three feel vitally real in the present day. Another decade might spit out Yak after a first bite, but they belong in 2015.

Tonight’s venue - the gold-covered Moth Club - is, suitably, a relic of the past that’s been given a new sheen. Its low glittery ceilings are a smart fit for Yak’s boundless energy and glam charm. Burslem and co. are launching their Third Man-released EP ‘No’ tonight, and it’s a pity Jack White isn’t in attendance to witness the fearless force of this band.

It’s one of those nights where everything falls into place. A Yak show is all well and good when Burslem peers over an organ droning into eternity, or when he’ll use his guitar as some climbing prop towards the ceiling. Reciprocation is when they reach another gear. There’s a permanent pulse in the front rows tonight, but it’s not by default. Like the flick of a switch, Yak’s frontman can go from all out deranged chants (‘No’ being the calling card), or he’ll deliver a more gripping form of noise. The blink-and-you-missed-it ‘Alas Salvation’ gets two outings, and it’s straight from the White Stripes school of gritty rock ‘n roll and complete control.

With heads beginning to turn, this deranged reception is the kind Yak will eagerly play to night after night. But take a snapshot of this Moth Club show - shirts off, sweaty bedlam by the end - and it could easily be mistaken for an archive example of how an act can begin their quest for world domination. Yak have all the makings of a special band - what’s striking is just how close they look to the finished article.