First things first: what ever happened to bands supporting each other? Has the explosion of the Reading music scene made everyone forget the cameraderie there used to be? What I'm referring to is bands leaving soon after their set, instead of watching others on the bill. This is especially inexcusable if the gig hasn't many punters, as was the case at the Boxing Club in Reading on Friday 4 November. Of course, it's also up to the bands to bring along at least 10 supporters if the gig hasn't been promoted very well. Knuckle-rapping all round let's say. Rant over. Opening band Salvage are, in a word, great. They are worthy of headline sets but tonight they provide the nearly-empty boxing room with a stellar start to the evening's musical entertainment. Clearly drawing from Muse as their inspiration, the frontman warbles through falsettoed rock operas while his guitar belts out gut-crunching riffs. A tight impassioned performance that I'd certainly like to enjoy again. Reading stalwart band Desdemona have a new portfolio of songs that are surprisingly rockier than their usual 'screamy dreamy' sound. Rather than flying aloft the frizzy-haired frontwoman's child-like voice, we're ducking and dodging a barrage of gargantuan riffs. Certainly the balance is tipped from the floaty feminine more towards the muscle-packed masculine. What's more, the keyboardist is liberated on occasion, striding towards centre-stage to strum out some chick sassiness on the rhythm guitar. Old favourites such as Crash Test Donna still crop up, but certainly Desdemona have become a stronger force. Glad they haven't changed their kooky dress sense though, frontwoman Sarah's princess tutu stole the show. At the same time that Sequoia are playing before what must now be about ten people, millions are listening to their song Laura Valentine debuting on BBC Radio 2. The band have been around the block a few times but finally they've got their act together with a strong album and a good PR drive. Good on 'em. Music-wise they're the champions of easy-listening sentimental songs, using cut-glass melodies to evoke their poetic pastel-tinted world of melancholy observations and, errr, Elvis. The band are exemplary performers, mixing comedy and chat with expertly executioned songs. They command your attention and you're only too happy to give it. Now I do feel sorry for 100 Bullets Back - the audience has diminished to about five. The vast hall begins echoing with every footstep, the lonely speakers blast out music at a pointlessly loud volume. They didn't care though. The two electro-poppers, who sound like The Killers bedding New Order while the Pet Shop Boys sit by and watch, jumped about behind mics and synths as though they were playing Wembley. Immediately catchy, their songs are pogo sticks boinging happily among the grey bowler-hatted world. A superb performance with a fantastic bunch of songs - please, let's everyone make sure these boys play before a packed-out crowd next time. | 
