Tricot @ Broadcast, Glasgow, 21 Aug

"You know, you can wait inside the pub", says someone from the Broadcast staff to the dozen or so folks gathered outside the venue nearly an hour before doors open. But no one's budging this lot; Tricot, the incendiary, utterly unique math rock trio from Kyoto, Japan are the kind to attract diehards, and it quickly becomes clear that these fans had the right idea securing a front row spot. By the end of the first support slot – an impassioned if somewhat spartan set of one-man post-hardcore from UNDO's Ian Bethel, aka Chartered Trips – it's already a proverbial "melter” as one fellow punter puts it, and those who've been a little more casual about arriving on time find themselves craning over an increasingly fervent throng.

All the better for Benjamin Blue, who prove themselves thoroughly deserving of such a receptive audience. The Glasgow-based four-piece, joined this evening by Chrissy Barnacle on bass and vocals, hone in on an alluring mid-point between astute polyrhythmic noodling and slackerish indie rock. Their loose, off-kilter sound is like a breezier version of Slint with curtains open and a sense of humour. 'I am a disaster, permanently plastered!' yells Peter Taylor on the closing song, a cathartic conclusion to a dynamic and engaging set that leaves everyone suitably impressed.

As with many math rock acts, you could call Tricot an acquired taste. The three records they've released since 2013 are dizzyingly inventive while making full use of the virtuosic talents of guitarists Ikumi Nakajima and Motoko Kida, and bass player Hiromi Sagane, culminating in an intensive, hyper-caffeinated listening experience that can take a little while to parse. But live, that acclimatisation process lasts no longer than their first song. The trio put on such an entertaining and wholehearted show that to come away as anything other than a rabid convert you'd have to be both utterly cynical and allergic to fun.

Their setlist, for starters, has something for everyone. There are the labyrinthine stop-and-start thrill rides like 18, 19, which the band execute with hyper-tight precision; funkier numbers like Yosoiki with singalong hooks embellished by Motown-style synchronised choreography; and outlandish ska freakout Niwa, in which Kida wigs out on a samba whistle while the folks up front have a good knees-up.

The trio’s stage presence is on point too as they make the most of the small space available, thrashing about with boundless energy and at one point trading places with a well-timed leap. Sagane joins the crowd for a boogie to much enthusiasm, while Kida turns heads with the impromptu shriek of someone just prodded with a red-hot poker. It’s all part of the positive, unpretentious demeanor that makes Tricot a much more inclusive technical guitar outfit than the typical math rock contingent of mostly nerdy-looking guys (yours truly included, obviously) who’ve come out to see this show would suggest. If you're a fan of whimsical yet thunderously energetic rock music, see this band at your earliest opportunity. If you're not, go along anyway; you will be soon enough.