Gig #9: The New Adelphi, Hull 20 April 2014

It is nine o’clock in the evening and we are halfway through support-act Schoolgirls’ anarchic, noise-drenched set. The venue has been filling slowly since doors opened an hour ago, and Schoolgirls’ colossal soundscapes pour like a rip tide through the narrowing spaces between the punters. The walls themselves seem to sweat history as the band launch wave after wave of sonic disruption into the room.

Towards the end of their set, a rival wave clashes with the Schoolgirls’ sonic tsunami as Edward ‘Ted’ Chippington arrives at the venue. A group of old friends from Chippington's days as a Hull Trucking Company lorry driver had driven up to Scarborough for last night’s gig, and at the end of the night had whisked Chippington to stay with them. A visibly refreshed Chippington slips through the crowd in the direction of the bar, followed by his entourage. There is, as yet, no sign of the ‘unleashed’ Big Dave.

Chippington’s own set this evening is relaxed and unusually informal. He is clearly amongst friends here tonight and there is little need to turn on the mesmeric charisma that has become his trademark. “I was walking down the road the other day...” says Chippington to roars of laughter and tumultuous applause. “No, no... I really was walking down the road the other day...” More laughter; more applause. “No, honestly, listen... this is a true story...” The crowd is moulded like spilled candle wax in Chippington’s expert hands.

The Nightingales take the stage in Chippington’s wake, sensing that they will need to pull something really special out of the bag tonight following the masterful performance the crowd has just witnessed. Lloyd is so focused and intent he could almost pass as sober, while the rest of the group pound away at their instruments, heads down, barely acknowledging the audience. Before the opening number – viral hit “Bullet For Gove” – has ended, several people are dancing at the front. It’s looking good for the band as they plough on relentlessly.

It is when the band hit the breakdown section of “Real Gone Daddy” two-thirds of the way through the set, that it becomes clear that their supremacy is assured, for without warning – and bear in mind that I’ve witnessed every soundcheck, every moment the band has been together for almost two weeks and seen no sign of planning for this moment – Lloyd moves to stage right as Fliss ‘Sticks’ Kitson steps out from behind her drumkit and launches into a tap-dancing solo.

The crowd goes wild. Even Paul ‘Jacko’ Jackson – who surely has seen it all – jumps into the seething crowd, as though all those ‘sixties dreams of communal living and group loving might finally have come to pass. As Kitson retreats behind her drumkit for what’s left of the set, Lloyd returns to centre stage and the two guitarists for the first time lift their heads and with playful smiles on their faces at last risk a glance at the audience. There is no longer any doubt: although Schoolgirls' and Chippington's sets have both, in their own way, succeeded, tonight the Adelphi belongs to the Nightingales.