It's a peculiar crowd here tonight, especially for a band who seven years ago would have packed venues such as this on the strength of the track Bohemian Like You, which back then was sitting pretty in a mobile phone advertisement on heavy television rotation.

Three albums later and the Dandies' following has settled down. So much so that you could wander from one side of the Old Fire Station to the other with a five-pint cluster and not spill a drop. It's not empty by any means, but prospective crowd surfers had better be wearing headgear.

And is it me or are there quite a number of people with significant life experience here? At 33, I'm no Zac Efron but someone's granddad is doing the Charleston near the back.

No matter, The Dandy Warhols open slowly with the swirling Mohammed, chug into life with a rousing We Used to be Friends, lose ground somewhat with Shakin' before launching into a strangely lacklustre Not if You Were the Last Junkie on Earth. This is one of their bankers but it's a little on the weak side tonight.

Midway through the gig and Bohemian Like You is unleashed, and a mature man with size 400 feet near the back is flailing about like he's left vital medicine at home. A pounding Get Off follows, and the place has an appetite whet for testing the floorboards.

Disappointingly, the Dandies slow it down, and bored seniors fill the room with inane chatter about bus passes and gout. Thankfully, Godless and the quality Wasp in the Lotus get matters back on track, and the back end of the gig is nothing less than sensational.

Horse Sized Pills, Boys Better and a song about being rather excited to see the saviour are standouts, and wedged in among them is a vicious version of festive favourite Little Drummer Boy.

Even the seniors here know the words to that one.