The last time I saw The Vichy Government they were supporting The Free French; on Monday, they followed The Resistance.
But before both of those were Teh Fcuks, who were having a bad night of it. They gave up one song because the drummer couldn't play the keyboard part, then the same drummer confronted the sound man for adjusting his kit. Jemma Fuck threw herself and her mop of black hair about the stage enthusiastically but could only persuade one person in the audience to dance the same way (go j4!) Enthusiasm alone isn't enough to make up for technical failings but two-minute songs are.
The Resistance slunk on stage without introduction, two boys and a boyish girl in matching black shirts bearing their half-swastika device. From the name and the image I'd expected them to be another spiky guitar band, but no, they looked like Interpol and they sounded like Mogwai. They think they're good enough not to speak at all, mixing their grumbling, insistent songs into one half-hour instrumental and relying on abstract projections. White noise and foreign radio broadcasts are such clichés. But I did enjoy myself.
More effectively confrontational were the vicious Vichies. Previously I'd considered them spoken-word agitprop: a young fogey in a woollen suit dispensing calculated offence to the accompaniment of intentionally primitive synthesizer. But the keyboard player seems to have sold out and they could even be described as having songs. Certainly, whenever cappuccino_kid's Belfast brogue became incomprehensible I treated it as world music. The mention of the Cartoon War was disappointingly predictable - I was hoping for something pro-Prophet - but they returned to form with 'The Greatest Gift Of All': 'God gave us AIDS / To stop Africa's industrial revolution'.
Finally, The Violets played some angular punk, much as they did on a previous Angular show.