Pega Monstro @ Old Hairdresser's, Glasgow, 20 August

A delirious mess of riot grrrl and cuddlecore peppers Breakfast Muff’s set – a good enough start, but it’s their delivery that truly seals the deal. They pogo and scream with such giddy abandon that they may as well be pelting each other with water bombs as playing something as frightfully rockist as a gig. A+ for attitude but it’s excellent stuff all round.

They’re closely followed by fellow Glaswegians Seconds, whose new wave jitters and serrated hooks are magnified by soaring, Corin Tucker-esque vocals. It’s their dual rush to the head and heart that hints most explicitly at their burgeoning excellence; this is a band with a tacit-but-noticeable understanding of each other’s strengths, bordering on the telepathic. Ones to watch.

Still, when it comes to grooving, there’s no-one on tonight’s (pretty stellar) line-up who can touch the mighty Sacred Paws, with their vitally urgent mash-ups of afrobeat rhythms and post-punk motifs. Relentlessly energetic, they turn a crowded room into a writhing mess of sweating, whooping flesh – how often do you get to say that of a band with one EP to their name?

The reason we’re all here, of course, is Portuguese duo Pega Monstro. On sterling new album Alfarroba, they coat their trashed-garage pop instincts in reverb and fuzz, but in front of an awe-struck audience they turn up the psych elements and let us bask in the brain-melting chaos. Genius cuts like Branca duly drip with echo and feedback, forcing our ears to slice through the melee in order to access the deliciously addictive melodies hidden underneath, while drummer Maria Reis becomes a blur of muscular motion, whacking several shades of shit out of her poor drum kit. A band of such awesome power and superb songwriting can only be kept a secret for so long – catch ‘em before they blow up. [Will Fitzpatrick]