venta | It seemed like a good idea at the time

So, back in December we looked at the line-up for the Winter Sprinter, and thought three of the four gigs looked excellent. The Thursday night gig was slightly less exciting and clashed with another gig we planned to go to.

But if you're buying Winter Sprinter tickets, four tickets is only 30p more than three. And that other Thursday commitment is an early one, we could just about do both...

We bought four tickets. Now, faced with a packed week, a series of early mornings, and a requirement to get myself home from Kings Cross every night I am wondering if I might regret that decision.

Anyway, after excellent burgers at Honest Burger last night, I was nicely settled on a bit of bench, with a pint of Deuchars, well before the first band was on.

The Leaf Library sound a bit wet, recorded. (They also sounded a bit dubstep, but I think that was more to do with our flaky office internet connection glitching when I was streaming off bandcamp yesterday afternoon.) Live, they are quite different.

There seem to be lots of them, about five even before they added immaculately-tailored indiepop guitar-for-hire Simon to the line-up. They're laid-back, shimmery, fuzzy pop with a female vocalist and guitars that build to unexpected highs. I'm considering inventing the term "sock-gaze"; like shoe-gaze only less so.

Try it: Walking Backwards (this song was great live, but I don't know what that link sounds like as I'm on a tube and have no headphones)

They are followed by Simon Love who now has a proper band. Including an excitable keyboard player who shoves glissandi into everything and thus flounders around the keys like an enthusiastic seal.

The sound is that of a classic early-sixties pop outfit gone strangely and wilfully to seed. Woogly Hammond organ and chimey guitars mix with outbreaks of swearing in a curiously lovely, unpredictable manner.

Simon Love, looking louche in a velvet jacket introduces songs in his faint Welsh accent, and swaps between guitar and piano. Despite the disorganised persona, he's the band leader: not a bridge nor a tempo change happens without him giving the nod to the relevant player.

Try it: The New Adam and Eve (contains swearing, link still unvetted due to tube)

The headline act is a solo bloke with a guitar: Steven James Adams. I've written about him before, and never cease to be amazed at his ability to control a crowd. Or his ability to conform to a cliche, make a dreadful joke about it, and send himself up for doing so all at the same time.

His songs veer towards the downbeat (a critic might say miserable) and are often rather formless, lacking bits you can sing along to. On paper, I don't think I'd like him; the whole thing is saved by his sense of humour and wry delivery. He finishes his set standing on the bar, unamplified and with his head inside a dangling lampshade.

Try it: Tears of Happiness (still on a tube).