Being a support band is generally considerd to be a pretty crappy job. You get a tiny slot, no time to soundcheck, and when you do get to play, the venue is half full and people generally talk over you. It's lame, sure, but for those who want to make it to the top, it seems the only way to get there is by paying your dues.

Some bands are destined to never rise above support status. Some bands will always be second on the bill, destined to heard only by barstaff and that middle-aged guy in the corner nursing his Guinness. The kind of bands you always see at festivals, stuck in those mid-afternoon slots that nobody really wants.

It's all to do with the wheel of fate. Some bands it takes high, some it crushes low, but not everyone is shunted around by its incessant spinning. Those on the rim are getting the full journey, but those in the middle barely notice it moving at all.

So it is tonight. First up are Cardiff-based band the Muscle Club, sharply presented, and with even sharper songs. The guitarist is a dead-ringer for someone I had a man-crush on in college (he was a model so it was understandable), and the bassist had a killer moustache, which should probably just be compulsory for bassists everywhere. The songs were great, tight, focussed, inherently melodic and charming - and yet, something was missing. Given a little edge, a little bite, a little je ne sais quoi, and these boys could soon be troubling the charts in the same way local contemporaries The Automatic did, but until then, they're just a little too close to the middle of the wheel. Keep an eye on them though, cause they're moving in the right direction.

Dananananaykroyd are about as close to edge of the wheel as you can get without falling off into oblivion. I genuinely think they might be the most innovative band working in Britain today. In the cellar-like depths of the Barfly, they forged an entirely new kind of music, one that eschews melody in favour of sheer rhythm and volume, propelled by industrial guitars, screamed vocals and two (count 'em, two) drumkits. Edinburgh might be famous for its military tatto, but now Glasgow has its own, etched in ink and wrought in drums, pounding out the primal, livid rhythms of their Glaswegian tribalism. They're an analogue band making a digital sound, all ones and zeros, stops and starts, peaks and troughs, loud and silence, and it's heavy and it's difficult and it's compelling. The wall of hugs they initiated ("Righ', this side is gonna run intae this side, like is a fuckin' war, but the only weapon youse got, is fuckin' hugs") proved that they're good girls and boys at heart, but the ringing in my ears proves that they definitely mean business.

What was most interesting about their set was their bassist - a fixed point, standing icily like a metronomic statue, around whom the rest of the band careened like monstrous fireflies. Still, if they proved one thing tonight, it's that contrast is everything.

And so to the headliners, the magnificent Johnny Foreigner. The patchy sound (the Barfly is frustratingly idiosyncratic at the best of times) meant their melodies sometimes got lost somewhere beneath the braying crowd, but there are still enough flashes of inspiration here to impress. Singles Our Biploar Friends and Salt, Peppa and Spinderella show off their ingenious pop hooks and indie sensibilties, but it's what they don't play that says the most. Despite playing a full set without a dud, there are still half a dozen songs from debut album Waited Up 'Til It Was Light that they leave out - a sure sign of iminent greatness. Though they were missing their gin (according to frontman Alexei, their hosts had neglected the band's rider), they weren't lacking anything else, and if fate's wheel isn't raising them up any time soon, then there is something seriously wrong with the world.

Dananananaykroyd may have been the support band tonight, but they were back on stage for the last song, ensuring an epic, messy finale. Highly appropriate really, since you can never keep a good band down.

Posted In Live Reviews, Sep 29 2008. Words - Josh