Iceage @ Broadcast, Glasgow, 28 Mar

Glasgow's premier backing-track-hardcore duo, Moni Jitchell, open up to the sparse crowd in the Broadcast basement with an intense blast of energy. David Scott gives it big licks on his 12-string and tries not to hit his head while sashaying across the stage, and Grant Donaldson (whose pre-recorded drums batter endlessly) shouts and distorts himself with feverish abandon. Though more suited to the Iceage of ten years ago, it's a welcome jolt to start the night.

The Danish punks have never made a bad record despite making huge stylistic changes across their five albums, and the current sound is one that suits them perfectly. The setlist tonight makes clear the direction they're headed in with nothing from their first two hardcore-infused albums, but a fairly even spread from the rest. The difference between an 'older' one like On My Fingers and the glistening guitar lines of any of those from Seek Shelter (or one of their as-yet unreleased tracks) is clear. Iceage have developed into a melody-driven force with tangible hooks rather than the distortion-clad earlier material. 

The nature of Broadcast's new stage setup creates an odd effect as the stage is much deeper than it is wide, which means that the band is mostly hidden behind singer Elias Bender Rønnenfelt. It's fitting given his onstage presence; part Ian Brown swagger and part young Nick Cave. He saunters (and staggers at times) about the cramped space, offering bejeweled fingers to the crowd and lapping up every second of adulation. He's clearly a bit tipsy which doesn't really chime with the band's mostly serious demeanour and style, but it makes for a fun sense of unpredictability.

It's nice seeing the band in such an intimate venue, but it feels criminal that they can't sell out 100 capacity venues. If brilliant new songs like Lifetime and Eden Is On Earth are indicative of their next album's quality, then maybe this will be the breakthrough they deserve. I won't hold my breath, though it doesn't look like the band are sweating it. As Elias hollers in visceral closer, Catch It: 'Trust me / These arbitrary thrills / Will never fail to transcend...'