It’s part 2 of the musical tapas that is the Great Escape Festival and feeling the worse for wear after my half a Babysham last night I was in need of a pick me up. What better remedy then attending my first ever death metal gig. Probably not the best cure for a headache admittedly but I was willing to give it a go as I was under the wing of the 20six’s resident death metal guru Jilted Barfly.

Gojira are French and are slated as being one of the most fearsome bands on the death metal scene. Quite an introduction into the blood soaked hell pit that is death metal. I realise that my usual suave look is not going to cut it in the raging inferno of the Concorde and consider making myself up to resemble Marilyn Manson’s lovechild. Instead I opt to wear a black t-shirt with a skull on it. Rock ‘n indeed Roll.

I am surprised by the demographic of the audience. It seems that the local primary school has decided to schedule a trip down here as well. Seriously, the kids here are just so young they could potentially be our children (not mine and the Barfly’s as that would be hideous).

The Barfly explains that there are many different genres of metal these days and he has lost touch with all the different variations. Apparently "shredding" is very popular. I’m glad to hear these youngsters enjoy fresh salad after attending these events.

Surprisingly, I find the whole spectacle quite amusing as the young crowd go crazy and smash into each other in the "pit". On the surface it looks like mindless violence and looks like someone will get hurt. However, I notice that when one of moshers gets punched to the floor he is helped up by one of the guys who has been belting him. It’s what Satan would have wanted.

Gojira actually have a recognisable rhythm once they get going and there is no doubt they play with energy. Even the singer’s cookie monster growl isn’t too irratating.

Next come Johnny Truant, another metal band from Brighton whose lead singer seems to be quite a retiring character.

"Does anyone in the audience want to suck my cock"

We consider his offer and politely decline. The band thrash out a similar frenzied energy with multiple guitarists but I find the singer’s voice grating and there is nothing for me to appreciate now the novelty of teens bashing into each other has worn off.

We bust a move to the Hanbury Ballroom, a cool converted church with a Da Vinci style painted ceiling. There is a queue and as it is pissing down and we wish we’d arrived earlier. We witness some brazen attempts to enter by drunken idiots who think they are invisible or Jesus Christ. Finally, we are in.

Midlake are from Texas and dish out a harmonious, whimsical, electro-folk which pleasantly washes over you without any leaving any lasting impression. They have so much equipment they occupy more space than the crowd. One of their number has a molester’s moustache which upsets the Barfly.

Lets not mess about, the reason most of the audience have bought tickets is to witness the majestic Richard Hawley in the flesh. I have wittered on about him before on these very pages. His music defies comparison so I’ll just say it is beautiful, sad and brilliant. Live, the band sounds incredible and his baritone is so warm you could insulate your house with it. Richard is from Sheffield, this is quite clear when he speaks, and it’s hard to believe it’s the same person, such is the transformation. The crowd go crazy and I pat him on the back as he walks off stage. Safe to say it is probably the highlight of his evening.