Chain and the Gang @ Kazimier, Liverpool, 27 May

Oh, Ian Svenonius! He’s stood at the front of the stage, lecturing us on Jorge Pardo’s Penelope, a brightly-coloured and multitentacled sculpture of significant proportions, handily located just outside the venue. “You can thank the ravers for that,” he advises, his lip curled into a mock-sneer, before somehow finding a way for Chain and the Gang to segue into another garage-pop stomp. Immaculately clad in preposterous silver suits, the various Gang members provide the po-faced and endlessly cool jerkin’ backing for their frontman’s wildly vivacious stage presence. Together they’re a pleasingly ramshackle rock‘n’roll machine, but there’s little doubt that proceedings are dominated by 46-year-old whirlwind Svenonius as he struts, preens and drunk-dad-dances the set away. Who else can captivate an audience with those moves? Who cares? He’s doing it now, and good golly gosh, it’s a joy to witness.

With such a showman at the helm, you’d be forgiven for thinking the actual songs might be something of a sideshow. But nope, they’re just dandy: Devitalise loses the Fall-esque groove of its recorded counterpart, but acquires a welcome harshness to its minimalist punk rush. Meanwhile there are highly agreeable hints of Bratmobile in the one-string guitar riffs and shonky solos, giving pep to the likes of Trash Talk and Livin’ Rough. Typically, Svenonius ends the show getting down and dirty among the (disappointingly sparse) crowd, holding the enraptured attendees in the palm of his hand. All shows should be as good as this. That they aren’t is arguably modern rock’s greatest tragedy.