And if that isn’t enough, tonight is an even more special occasion, due to the fact that there’s no support band to open for them. Instead, we’re treated to a 30 minute Q&A with the band before they take themselves off to prepare for their wonderfully long setlist.

Questions range from ‘Lennon or McCartney’ (“Harrison, of course”), to one fan asking how the band came to write the instrumental soundtrack to the sci-fi/horror novel Finch – (“its author Jeff VanderMeer approached them”). Fans reminisce about certain shows, asking the band if they remember the post-show shenanigans, and there are many, many questions asking why this is their farewell tour.

After the delicious little insight into the history of the band and their time touring together, MBD are off to get ready for their set, leaving the crowd clamouring for their return. What results is a 27 song setlist; the perfect parting gift for a room of fans who’ve been dedicated to the band for the last 25 years.

They begin the musical portion of the evening with ‘Riders’, weaving delicately into ‘Until Morale Improves’ and ‘Flamenco’s Fucking Easy’. The five-piece work their way through a treasure-trove of hits from their 25 year back catalogue; a couple from ‘The Other Shore’ here, a few from ‘Good Morning, Magpie’ there. A backdrop of projected images brings the stage to life even more, showcasing a myriad of footage from decaying wildlife to snippets of a film reminiscent of ‘A Trip To The Moon’, to a montage of images of the band through the years; a mix of grainy small club shows to polished shots of large venue shots showcasing their progression through the years, the perfect backdrop to the beautifully poignant sounds of ‘Lose You’.

In an effort to “break up the depression and play something fucking dumb”, they launch into their super silly, super secret song about pizza – ‘Pizza Party (At Gloria Estefan’s House)’ – and regale us with tales of the things they’ve seen during their time in London. This most notably includes a story about a woman who was either a swan wrangler or a swan strangler, and singer Adam Tulsa admits that he left the scene unsure as to whether she should have been bothering the swan at all.

They bring the mood down again with the ever-bleak ‘Last Night On Earth’, a visceral song about the end of the world. Soon, the melancholic intro to ‘I Came Around’ begins. Before the crowd has time to dwell on their collective sadness, a raucous chorus erupts, with every audience member belting the lyrics back at the band as passionately as they are singing them to the room.

After a brief intermission, the band return for their encore, accompanied by the crowd stamping their feet and chanting ‘MBD’. Starting with ‘Shiola’ – a fan had asked earlier what ‘Shiola’ meant, and Tulsa admitted it was a made up word he found best to describe an indescribable feeling he knew no other way to quantify – before bringing the night to a close with ‘Alas’. Before the band take their bow, Tulsa utters the song’s final lyrics: ‘Alas, I must go’; there really is no better way to end the show.

When asked by one fan during the Q&A what they will remember most about the ‘Farewell Tour’, the band responded with “how learning to say goodbye every night is like attending your own funeral”. If this is their funeral, then they’ve given us one hell of a wake.

EMMA STONE

If you’ve been reading Punktastic over the last week you’ll have noticed me professing my love for Milloy in a recent review of their album ‘More Than A Machine’. Tonight I only manage to catch 3 songs as I had to rush off to interview Against Me! (which will appear on this month’s podcast), but what I heard was top class as usual. It would be unfair for me to score their performance having not seen all of it, but they dominate The Cockpit’s main stage with the same effortless grace that they do every pub in Leeds and have been doing for years. Their hard work is bound to start paying dividends very soon.

Quickly coming back from the interview I catch a good half of Murder By Death. Having neglected to check these guys out before I arrived, my mind was fairly open, and their brand of Western, desert rock was fairly welcoming. Vocalist Adam Turla is very talented, there’s no denying that. His voice sounds like it’s been fermented by 20 years of whiskey drinking and his aura is one of conspicuous warmth. Cellist Sarah Balliet seems to alternate between firmly backgrounded and positively haunting. When she’s in full flight it only adds to the sound which gave me an impression of a dusty American drought-ridden prairie. Gruff, soulful, not-quite-staring-at-your-shoes introspection. Having listened to some MP3s since seeing them live, I can definitely say this is a lot more impressive and engaging in the flesh. 7.5

By the time Against Me! take to the stage there’s a real hubbub of excitement. Quite obviously this was too much for some people, who proceeded to try and expend some of it by continually crowd-surfing and stage-diving throughout the entire set, but I guess there will always be idiots. Tom decries one of them taking a picture from the stage with his camera phone at one point which receives a cheer from certain (read: older) sections of the crowd. The band themselves are on top, top form tonight playing a decent mix of old and new, but thankfully sticking to the good ones from the (relatively) mixed bag that is the new record (Don’t Lose Touch, Miami, From Her Lips). You can criticise AM! from afar if it takes your fancy, but it certainly looks like the negative voices are fuelling a hungry desire from what I gathered by talking to them, and what was very evident for all and sundry in their live show. They’ve still got it. 8.5

Spud