Eagulls @ The Shipping Forecast, Liverpool, 27 Feb

It's over too quickly. That's the general consensus in the Shipping Forecast tonight, as a raucous set slaloms to a sudden end. But that's Eagulls for you. They'll give you half an hour, and when they race ahead with this level of frazzled, furious energy, maybe not even that much. Still, it's one helluva party they throw: fuelled by shitty beer, oblique sounds and existential woes, but still drunk enough to try skating over sofas, headlong into plate glass windows.

One person present is definitely having a bad time – bassist Tom Kelly appears to be the sickest man on earth, judging by his dynamic combination of zipped-up winter coat, pallid complexion and bleary, woe-begotten eyes. But he soldiers on heroically, steadily propelling everything forward while the guitars spatter the speakers with the textured pulse of Nerve Endings and their woozy-punk classic Possessed. If there's a surprise in store tonight, it's that they draw from the familiarly noisy element of their oeuvre rather than indulging us in the Cure-esque jangles that colour their self-titled debut. But this isn't about pretty melodies or crowd-pleasing. It's about wrapping us up in sheets of noise and throwing us off a cliff – witness the effects-laden scree that engulfs George Mitchell's mic, scuppering the front row's attempts to sing along with a buzzing rendition of Coffin. And here's what makes them such a thrilling prospect: that battle between electrified pop and ugly, scuzzed-out frequencies, where the conflict is naturally far more gripping than the prospect of a victor. Just make sure you don't blink. [Will Fitzpatrick]