Rainy Day Fuck Parade switch between torrents of supposedly intense hardcore and unimpressive, D grade post-rock. You know, complex drumming, meaningless riffery and bellicose vocals contrasted with 4/4 clean guitar arpeggios and atmospherics. However, when they combine these two tired tricks, the guitars creepily jangling and distorted bass contorting below, it sounds rather like someone strangling a python. In a good way.

A lot of where RDFP fall flat is that, in dwelling so constantly in minor keys without much/any melody, it comes across rather self-regardingly adolescent. Part Chimp, on the other hand, pull off the difficult task of marrying FACE battering heaviness with a predisposition towards major tonalities, lending their music a redemptive, celebratory feel whilst still making you nod your head like an idiot watching Sky One. They could soundtrack nature documentaries marvellously: the density of their guitars signifying dams bursting or wildebeest stampeding, but their lack of pretension lending a cheery David Attenborough voiceover. My one gripe would be that this close to Christmas they don't treat us to their implosion of The Little Drummer Boy.

For my money, Pelican can out-heavy anyone. Of course there will be always be bands who cram more notes into a second, or have more equipment to remove their sound from musicality, but to trace a continuum of Heavy from Sabbath through Kyuss, its protracted endpoint wouldn't be a million miles from some of tonight's headliner's recorded output. Tonight though, they're shown up by their support act. Where the Chimp batter and clatter, Pelican's polished drumming and sub-Isis atmospherics bore. It should never be the case that a band of this ilk can't translate their intensity to the stage. Contrary to their names, it's Part Chimp that are in full flight leaving Pelican looking backwards and, well, half arsed.