Wake up! screams Isaac Holman to the Glastonbury crowd. He thinks theyve been slacking and is surprised that the abrupt, coruscating racket brewed by his fearsome two-piece from Kent hasnt done the trick. 

They carry on regardless. Their unconstrained, feral aggression is matched by a keen, playful sense of humour and fierce political posturing. This afternoon, however, they impart a message of encouragement. Guitarist Laurie Vincent speaks of their past. He used to work in Top Shop, he says of his bandmate. He was moved into the stock room because he couldnt be trusted with the customers. Were proof that anything can happen. 

Songs like The Hunter and the Skepta-penned Shutdown pillory society with critical, brute force; fuzzed-up, buzzed-up riffs and tribal drums bludgeoning onlookers in the best possible way. 

They might be amongst the heaviest acts to have played the festival this year, and it comes as a welcome antidote to the polished articles that, Stormzy aside, surround them. They seek kinship with him as well as Shame, Fontaines DC et al and tell us so. You can see why. They believe the gate has been opened. If they had their way, the door would be kicked open, kicked apart and tossed away. They woke this festival up and then some. Mission accomplished. 

By Greg Wetherall