Slowcoaches @ Maguire's, Liverpool, 7 Dec

Remember the old gag about bands playing to 'one man and his dog'? For the uninitiated, that's what musos used to snigger about when bands played to an audience of somewhat unspectacular proportions. Equally, journos of a certain vintage may well be acquainted with the old indie cliché of 'we just do what we do and if anyone else likes it, that's a bonus' – a snipe which used to target what was perceived as a small-time mindset, but now seems a fair summary of the attitudes of pretty much everyone in music. Time's tricks are cruel indeed.

All this misty-eyed remembrance is pretty apt tonight. Yes, it's a sparse crowd who've rocked up to Liverpool's favourite DIY spot to catch Slowcoaches. No, it doesn't affect the band; while they're almost certainly not averse to the idea, you suspect that playing to huge crowds has never been a focal point of the London trio's sense of ambition. As such, we get a sterling set of irresistible indie-punk wonders played at breakneck speed, with neither drive nor energy in question in the slightest. Their foot does not come off the gas for an instant.

Old favourite We're So Heavy is among the pacy bundles on display, with Heather Perkins' mantra of 'I don't care, I don't care' sounding more like an attempt to convince herself of her nonchalance than a shrug in the listener's direction. Meanwhile, their barbed-wire guitars and chunky chords bury the pointed lyrics of Norms & Values just a tad, but that's ok – lyrical lessons like this are best absorbed through headphones and solitary reflection rather than in the refracted rush of the live show, where sucker-punches such as meaning come disguised as feral balls of snot, feedback and melody.

For anyone who's heard their (excellent) recent debut LP Nothing Gives, it shouldn't come as a surprise to see such glorious results. For newcomers, however, a 45-minute set in midweek at the tail-end of a four-band bill proves something of a slog, and not everyone present makes it through to the set's close. Still, the dramatic finale (with Perkins collapsed to the floor, feedback wailing and ears ringing) is as vivid a picture as you could ask for that Slowcoaches are giving their all. Word of mouth and a bit of luck will hopefully fill in the gaps in future; if performances like this are anything to go by, next time there'll be no room for the dog whatsoever.