A few weeks ago I went out in search of crunching, scabrous rock’n’roll. Headlining were Fear and Loathing (their usual ramshackly brilliant horrorshow), Leather Messiah just before (their new stuff is fabulous. Remember how Legends of Motor Sport were great fun but seemed to lack something? Leather Messiah have that extra something - they’re a burnout, man). 

The band I was curious about, Iron Feather, were second on the bill, and within seconds of punching us all out, assorted members of the Messiah and FAL were front and centre, thrilled.

And you know how old and past it we all are. Who the fuck are Iron Feather?

Scratch deep enough and you’ll find an undercoat of Yardbirds below the shiny paintwork of every worthwhile rock and roll vehicle.

We’re talking a group that was part of the original wave of British blues, but took 12-bar and twisted it for their own purposes. The Yardbirds were true progenitors of overdrive and sustained feedback, bringing in eclectic influence like Gregorian chants and Eastern ragas.

All-in sonic escalations (dubbed “rave-ups” by the band) were features of their song arrangements. Does that that ring any bells about contemporary bands all these years later?  

Sonny Vincent’s address book is fuller than a well-hung pornstar’s underpants so it’s no surprise to see him working with another star-studded gang on his latest album.

With his band drawn from the ranks of the Sex Pistols, the Stooges and The Damned, “Spiteful” is a gold-plated punk rock blast from go to whoa.

Lola In Slacks is a very new band which is starting to cause a stir in Glasgow; there's somewhat of a sense of mystery around this ambitious, literate outfit.

Charismatic singer Lou Reid (!) is the focal point, with songwriting partner and guitarist Brian McFie providing skilful garage grind and spiraling melody. Lesley McLaren has a growing reputation in her own right as a great rock 'n' roll drummer, and the band is fleshed out by Davy Irvin on bass, Villy Karagouni on keyboards and Martin Stuart Taggart on additional guitar.

If you’re a fan of the hard stuff, heated up to an inch of its life and played fast, the guess is you’ll take to Modfag like a vulture to fresh roadkill. These Texan punks recall any number of Eurotrash bands from the ‘90s, with a dash of glam and a goodly dose of US ‘60s punk applied.

The not-very-mild-mannered chap behind this is Joke Lanz and he will be 50 next year.

Sounds like he’s 22 and rising furious.

Wolfli’s Nightmare is brutish, powered by the sort of simplistic emotional reasoning which makes your guts churn prior to crying. Pushy, nasty robot rhythms don’t so much take you away as take you out the back and give you a kicking.