All too often the hype machine becomes forced into overdrive, usually favouring style over substance and rarely providing anything with a longer shelf life than last Tuesday's pint of semi-skimmed. Occasionally though, the columnists and marketing men get it right, and this evening is such an exception.

Not that local four-piece Mint Ive need to worry about such things. Their constantly evolving sound has been building up to such prestigious events as this for some time, even then you can almost smell the nervousness in their collective underwear as they take to the stage for what is arguably their most important show to date. Of course they needn't have worried, particularly when they have a guitarist as distinctively talented as Oliver Chetty in their ranks, because from the word go there’s no doubt who the focal point of their set is.

Using a violin bow on the opening 'Murderous Intentions', the continuous glissando effect is startling, almost akin to Interpol's 'The Lighthouse' if it had been written from the perspective of an inmate at Her Majesty's Pleasure. 'False Idols', fast becoming the band's signature tune, is a lolloping waltz that soothes and dazzles in equal measure while the raucous finale of 'I Fall Down', played live for the first time this evening, echoes the halcyon days of Six By Seven's 'Speed Is In, Speed Is Out' mixed with a hefty dose of noise unashamedly borrowed from the band's increasing love affair with the NYC noise scene such as tonight's headliners.

On any other night, Mint Ive's performance would have stolen the show. But tonight is unlike any other night these eyes have witnessed or ears have succumbed to in many a year.

It’s been a long journey for New York trio A Place To Bury Strangers, in every sense of the word. Not least because this is their first time in the UK, but also in terms of how long it’s taken them to gain the widespread recognition that's gradually come their way. Expectations are at an all-time high well before the doors open tonight, not least down to the reputation of allegedly being "New York's loudest band" that precedes them. Beforehand, guitarist Oliver Ackermann tells DiS it’s a title he's uncomfortable with, not least because it carries an almighty burden of weight that is nigh on impossible to live up to.

Forty minutes later, at the end of their set, DiS agrees with him; A Place To Bury Strangers don't merely live up to any pre-conceived expectation, they exceed them with some aplomb, pretty much by the end of the first song, or wall of noise, depending on the volume propensity of one's internal hearing organs.

Not since Loop's penultimate visit to the city when its Trent University was a polytechnic, or even My Bloody Valentine and the Boo Radleys carving up the Loveless tour in 1992 have I witnessed anything so incredible in its execution as this. As brutal as it is mesmerising, A Place To Bury Strangers are one of those bands whose sheer ferocity leaves no holds barred, whether it be the deafening combination of feedback, guitar and bass that make 'Don't Think Lover' sound like an entire city collapsing, or the intermittent spurts of pedal-infused din that punctuate every break in the set, almost like an introduction piece for the next slab of incessant noise.

Behind the band is a backdrop of monochrome collages that only add to the whole melange on stage, Ackermann and bassist Jono Mofo wrestling with their instruments like the Steiner brothers doing one final battle for mankind.

By the end of 'Ocean' swathing feedback engulfs the room and everyone just stands still, totally transfixed by what they've just seen. Not only have A Place To Bury Strangers raised the bar in terms of what a live performance should be all about, they've quite possibly set immeasurably high, unreachable standards for the rest to follow. This evening wasn't just about South by Southwest-induced media hype; it was about Total Sonic Annihilation.