The Aloof Warwick Heineken Weekender, Galway

THE Aloof are not for the idelicate of disposition. Although they open their set with singer Ricky Barrow's repeated refrain to "come over here and have some fun", it would be difficult to define exactly what he means by that. In his world, it seems, "fun" is hard, driving techno, underpinned by some seriously sinewy bass lines and washed over with a minimalist slide guitar, all played at an eardrum popping volume.

Think of Spinal Tap turning it up to eleven, then turn it up some more - it's that loud.

By the time they get to the second song, Hot Knives at Lunch Time, we figure out, however, that what The Aloof are really about is distortion on both aural and visual planes. As they rip through Wish You Were Here (their new single released last Monday), Sinking (almost radio-friendly and the title of their forthcoming second album) and the self-explanatory One. Night Stand we are bombarded with vigorous video loops via twin screens at the back of the stage and extended periods of intense strobe lighting.

Through all this, we are treated to an Aloof-style treatise on the subjects of isolation, alienation, the ways of the flesh and the politics of skin, all about as earnest and humourless as schoolboy poetry.

Indeed, by the time the get to the burning buildings and screaming sirens that make up Society the finale of their set, it becomes obvious just how close they are to running on empty. Dean Thatcher and his mates can't seem to lighten or darken the tone but just moan on and on like a bad Mike Leigh movie. Not even the encore of Bittersweet, an underworldy techno by numbers effort can disguise the lack of aptitude behind this up-front attitude.