When two different forces come together the results can be enigmatically life changing, think electricity and water, Lennon and McCartney, Bush and the button...

Tonight the now anti-legendary Bring Your Own Poison famed for bringing a scuzzy and grubby array of bright young things, and not so bright young things to the stage at the Rhythm Factory, has joined forces with XXIV Records. XXIV being the fine purveyors of audio delights, a New Cross label known for it’s own dirty mishaps collectively entitled ‘I Swear I Was There’, a bounteous record which champions the likes of the Gemma Ray Ritual, Grand Delinquents and Corporation Blend. Also proudly pinned to their shirt are a few turbulent club nights, think Turnmills last summer where the likes of Babyshambles, The Rakes and Towers of London graced (and also pissed) on the floorboards. They’re also aiming to restore the Venue in New Cross to it’s former glory in a non tribute band manor. I’ve got a feeling tonight at the Rhythm Factory’s gonna be great.

However, ahem, Rumble Strips kick things off, but to be quite frank, are pretty boring. Nice enough songs, but just not good enough especially when zilch boundaries are being pushed

On occasions Alice and The Enemies are good, and sometimes they are just rubbish. Like tonight. I’ve heard them on record and they sound really fucking strong, ‘Way With Women’, spits feedback and heavy whirling guitaring, and grows and climaxes over and over again, and oozes sexual lyrics in an exultant ass whipping manner. But tonight she positively reeks of faux sexploitation, a tinny and weak sound which is frailer than your average OAP, and the guitars just piss away somewhere far in the distance.

Next up is Apple Seed, an east London MC. His welcoming tales of life are enticing, and a good atmosphere suspends over the Rhythm Factory. One problem though, now I’m more brogues and badges as opposed to grime and (MC) gangs, me. So I could be really stereotypical and say, yeah it was a down right dirty mish mash of grizzly grime, and the turbulent tales of the street were wicked. But I’m not. I really don’t know how to review grime.. not that I’m opposed to it. All I can say the eclecticism of the night was a real welcome change from a plethora of guitar bands who dominate club nights. As well as the MC set, each and every band had a different musical landscape tonight. And if XXIV keep promoting nights with as much varied tunesmithery as this, then soon we will have a party where we weren’t be scared to drink red wine with fish.

Devil In Miss Jones have raised the bar for themselves, tonight they storm the stage with a brutal attack on their own songs, after being introduced by an anonymous person clad in a balaclava. Sharp in malice and mighty in spirit, they practically run the marathon tonight. Everything has been picked up a pace and there’s no messing to be had with them playing their best set ever tonight at the Rhythm Factory, which is, coincidentally, on home turf. They pound, I hate that word but they do, through a short set due to sound checking probs earlier. This is an amazing triumph for them after taking time off from gigging, and scattered round with the front of the stage are their allies having a wee bop, not that you can help yourself when DIMJ seem to have the natural ability of tapping into your decadent party psyche.   The self-proclaimed ‘finest-soul-punk collective in East London’ fly the flag for urban tales and mix a classic rock’n’rol swagger with a heavy, funky and repetitive bass. They have a solid rhythm section which allows guitarist Marcus to be indulgent, individualistic and experimental in his playing, whilst Michael explodes in over the top with Urban chanting. “Cos we’re coming out fighting” spits Michael on their anti-war rant ‘Not In My Name’, a completely perfect frenzy of anger, combined with Michael’s vocals sounding more like a young Ian Dury’s, and tonight they are indeed fighting, but ‘no need!’ because the crowd love them. That was definitely a set highlight, but it was an amazing blast of DIMJ tonight sounding focused, ragged and raged.

The ska- ramblings indie-pop shenanigans of Crowd bring tonight to an end. They play well, but look like they can’t be arsed being there, and singer Toby looks slightly riled... Anyway, Crowd are good regardless.  Most of their tunes grab you, some get a bit repetitive, probably a result of having such a strong mould to their sound. They sound sharp edged, without being too angular, and they thrash along, without being at all trashy, and a growing familiarity runs throughout their set. Guitarist Tom has John Squire tendencies but this is thankfully wrapped up in two minute tunes. Crowd make brilliant music for the roaming scamps out there. Live they can be fantastic; music is choppy and confusing, delivered with a well honed confidence. They play Leviathan Nation, their forthcoming single, and it’s a little gem of two minute frenzied jiggery, encompassing everything great about Crowd: foot stomping, good time tomfoolery, quite the bastard love child of Ringo and Weller. Also, adpt to Bring Your Own Poison tradition, they have a small scale stage invasion accompanying their last song, the invitation to dance bellows of Foolish Grin.

So then, when XXIV took on Bring Your Own Poison, they went head to head, shot to shot, and carbon monoxide poaching together, and the bands were varied and the styles were eclectic, and half the bands were very good. I predict XXIV may be putting themselves about a bit now after another marvellous club night.