Lore has it that nothing will go right on Friday the 13^th. So is it suggested, so shall it be. As gremlins accost microphones and guitars, tonight’s bill has to fight an upward struggle in the sound stakes, a feat accomplished to varying degrees of success. 

MK’s Februa get off lightly, mostly avoiding the gremlins (except for some very quiet vocals), and put in an eager showing of Funeral For A Friend inspired post-hardcore rock. The band is well practised but there’s still a feeling that there is some feet-finding to be done. It’s proficient but not overly exciting, which could be laid down at the feet of a dwindling crowd.

The Race Against Silence apparently fed the mogwai after midnight because there’s no way the microphones (at least three of them) want to work. Neither does the guitar. Add to this the fact that the band hasn’t played in about a year and doesn’t have the strongest of vocals and the result is an unfortunate herky-jerky set that never gets off the ground. A cover of One Republic’s “Apologise” is obviously included to entice the crowd, but those pesky gremlins see to that, eliminating vocals altogether.

And so starts the party. After a luke-warm start to the show, the first of tonight’s co-headliners is in the mood for impressing. From the off Deaf Havana ups the tempo, downs the subtlety, and brashly storms its way through 30 minutes of melodic hardcore that finely balances melodious vocals, mincing guitars, throaty war-cries and a ‘stop-and-look-at-me’ presence that makes you, well, stop and look. The crowd noticeably pays much more attention to the King’s Lynn quintet than any other act tonight, seemingly disregarding the fact that the second microphone at times sounds more like a voice synthesizer. The band professionally shrugs off the technical difficulties and storms its way to the ‘performance of the evening’ title. Excellent stuff.

Such is the dynamic of rotating headline tours it’s inevitable that sometimes the headline band on the night is going to be outshone by the main support. That’s certainly the case here, but that’s not to say All Forgotten doesn’t have what it takes to top this bill. Quite the contrary: it’s easy to imagine on another night the Woking five-piece emerging triumphant over Deaf Havana. Really it’s just a little healthy competition.

The first thing you notice tonight is that since opening for You Me At Six at Luton’s Student Union about this time last year the band has really emerged, honing a sound to precision. It’s less poppy, more rocky, and it sounds good. It could sound better, but that dastardly second microphone is causing mayhem: at best it sounds like a tinny radio, at worst it doesn’t work at all. And right in between it’s still giving off the impression of a voice synth. Stephen Hawking approved rock music, anybody?

Still, even a few tech glitches can’t derail the outfit. Neither can the shortcomings in foot-fall. The band actually seems pleased that this many people have come out to see them in the untested waters of a town that hasn’t been graced before. That’s the spirit, and a spirit that leads to a solid performance that suggests there’s more than a little potential here for bigger things.