Giant Drag @ The Deaf Institute, 13 September

A lot of the people here tonight have come alone. Shuffling around and glancing at phones before the set begins, you get the impression that this farewell gig was a pilgrimage for most. Giant Drag were a niche group even in their heyday seven years ago, and now they’re back to say goodbye for good and, with it, bid farewell to adolescence for many in attendance.

It’s revealing when the support band – the earnest, In Utero devotees Bad Grammar – have more merch for sale than the headliners (who have none). Giant Drag's Annie Hardy reassures us that they were considering printing off some download codes for the new album from Bandcamp, but “couldn’t find a printer.” With a band that she met two days ago at the airport, she is a shambolic bundle of twee-yet-vicious narcissism, as evidenced in the improvised rap she performs before kicking off Cordial Invitation. The old songs are played with new life, and those from the latest album aren’t played as much as they should be. The set is rushed, including a weak-voiced and heartbreaking unplugged section which is breezily swept through as if it’s an embarrassment.

The applause from this “low-energy crowd, the Seattle of Europe,” as Hardy refers to it, barely carries them offstage as they shuffle round their amps. Nevertheless they come on for an encore for the dutiful few who patiently clap, and present them with an under-rehearsed Wicked Game before finishing with their biggest hit, Kevin is Gay. The lonely pilgrims wander off into the night, having just witnessed the death throes of a truly special band. The indie rock world needs piss-takers like Hardy to rap about erections between songs, but maybe we don’t deserve her.