Southampton hailing Band of Skulls quickly gathered a reputation for bringing BIG sounds to their live shows. But after their third album Himalayan failed to really rock the boat and surpass the incredible Sweet Sour, their UK tour is a chance to prove they still have what it takes to continually elevate their sound to newfangled territories.

Opening with ‘Light of the Morning’ we’re reminded of the bands ability to charismatically lead a rock’n’roll charge of headstrong guitar power and drum breaks that’d give even the likes of Led Zeppelin a run for their money. Newer tracks taken from the Himalayan album are also strongly featured in the set, with ‘Asleep at the Wheel’ charmingly arriving somewhere between the suave stomping beats of The Raconteurs and the dirtier raw wickedness of Queens Of The Stone Age.

Tracks such as ‘Sweet Sour’ and ‘Brothers and Sisters’ gain obvious attention from the crowd, as the easy to sing-along chorus lines give everyone a chance to get involved and drunkenly sway around in unison, well, it is a Friday night after all. Band of Skulls really shine in a live environment, where every song is slotted neatly into a well-crafted setlist to ensure everyone has a really great time; there are certainly no fillers here.

The Hammersmith Apollo also proves a perfect setting for a band with such gigantic sounds, who tonight feel and sound like they’re on the right path towards festival headline status. There’s no reason why Band of Skulls shouldn’t be celebrated as one of the best live acts in the UK right now and, as promised, there really is something “special” about tonight’s performance. It seems Band of Skulls truly keep their promises.

In one way, it is fairly evident: his looks have changed. His hair is much less shaggy now and is slicked back, adding a neater edge to the Wimbledon troubadour’s image and he seems far broader now, making him seem all the more assertive. But in every other way, you would think that he had never gone away.

The audience tonight only need one chord off an old hit to provoke them into a state of ecstasy. Tracks such as ‘So Lonely Was The Ballad’ and of course, ‘Sheila’ are welcomed with roars of delight and each and every word is chanted back at Treays delightfully. Mosh pits happen during nearly every song played off of 2009’s Panic Prevention and glasses of beer are predictably thrown into the air too.

But the new songs receive a warm reception too, to the joy of Treays. The ‘ooh-ooh’ line in lead single ‘Don’t You Find’ off new album Carry on the Grudge is howled by everyone in Alexandra Palace tonight, bringing a grin that stretches from ear to ear on Treays’ face. The newer songs are notably more introspective and meditative, which provide for refreshing moments during this raucous set. It also displays his rare talent: to make an audience clutch their hearts and sway silently one moment and morph into a bouncing frenzy the next.

However there are still incredibly more frenetic tracks from his third album played tonight such as ‘Rabbit Hole’ and ‘Zombie’ that are greeted with the same amount of vigour as older hits. It makes you realise that Jamie T is well and truly back, as if he had never left. If he plans on taking another break that lasts a few years, it’s almost certain that a huge audience will be waiting for him patiently.

Jamie T is currently on tour throughout the UK. For tickets and more information visit here.

Her vulnerability is further exposed when she claims to be 'sick as a dog' tonight, but that seems entirely at odds with the fully-realised, immersive experience that overwhelms as she stomps and shakes across the Apollo stage.

As the jarring chords of 'I Never Learn'; welcome the band, black sheets drape the set and Lykke Li cuts a striking silhouette through the smoke and backlights. She reaches out to the howling of the first few rows of the 5,000 strong crowd as her anthems of heartache prove univeral and she turns misery on its head into celebration. 

It's a rare sight to behold, when such artfully-crafted moments of introspection envelope such a vast crowd - but it's Lykke's cliché-free, black-clad witchcraft of a performance that elevates her into a realm of her own. Through the bittersweet 'Sadness Is A Blessing' and the raw-nerved 'No Rest For The Wicked', one can't help as feel as if she's grabbed you by the hand and taken you through the wardrobe. 

"Have you ever heard of Drake?" she smiles, introducing her cover of 'Hold On, We're Going Home'. Staying fairly true to the original, Lykke Li adds her own sensual swagger - but drenches it in a great deal more heartbreaking tenderness. Absolutely breathtaking. 

It's a night of extremes, from the unified sway as lighters and phones are raised aloft for 'Never Gonna Love Again', to the unhinged Nick Cave-esque menace of 'Rich Kid Blues' when all hell breaks loose on stage, amid the lightning of red strobes. 

Ending the first set with a frantic outro of 'Get Some' featuring support act Eliot Sumner, you can feel your heart at the back of your throat as she mourns her way through 'Love Me Like I'm Not Made Of Stone' when screams of undying love beckon her back to the stage - an artist in her prime: raw, real and fearless. 

Lykke Li played:
1. I Never Learn
2. Sadness Is A Blessing
3. Just Like A Dream
4. No Rest For The Wicked
5. Silent My Song
6. Hold On, We're Going Home (Drake cover)
7. Little Bit
8. Sleeping Alone
9. Gunshot
10. I Follow Rivers
11. Never Gonna Love Again
12. Rich Kid Blues
13. Get Some
Encore:
14. Love Me Like I’m Not Made Of Stone
15. Heart Of Steel

The sadder, littler sister of the alternative scene may have all but faded away, but the memory and importance of the emo movement, to so many people, is still epitomised in Way. His iconic status enough to sell out the packed London KOKO even on his own - not to mention the strength of huge solo debut, Hesitant Alien.

As the singer states later on in the show, these audience members have grown up with him and also, he jokes, had to see him "get old".

Way appears amid excitable chanting, dressed in his album cover's electric blue suit and a red tie, topped with lurid hair, the firiest of orange. Tapping his leg hard as the band march into the bold sound of the slow-building 'Bureau', he then propels into bouncy, hook-laden 'Action Cat', with it's emo-centric refrain of "DO YOU MISS ME? COZ I MISS YOU" leaving the crowd in open, raw mood.

The singer's new Britpop inspired direction becomes evident - especially in the lo-fi track, 'Drugstore Perfume', which is an ode to everyone "who wants to leave home, not in a bad way, in a let's get the fuck out of there and do something way!", a sentiment that triggers thunderous applause from the younger members of the crowd.

The set's best moments however, are when Way delivers emotive tracks like like the anthemic, piano-led 'Brother', perhaps the most theatrical moment of the night instrumentally, and his visceral cover of James Cecil's 'The Water is Wide' (O Waly, O Waly)' which breaks the hearts of everyone present.

As well as the music, Way's empathetic messages of positivity to the crowd are beautifully sincere, in a way not many other artists can manage. He talks sensitively of trans-gender people and mental illness, challenging everyone to 'never comment negatively on anyone's body again' which garners huge cheers from everyone present.

His work has always represented the marginalised and the misunderstood and no one feels left out, with Way at one point yelling: "Let's hear it for the women because you're going to be in charge and they're all terrified!."

Closing with 'Dasher', Way may be alone, a little more fragile (he admits to self-medicating since the end of MCR), but he is also and more importantly, one hell of a performer, possessing that rare feat of making every single person in the room feel remarkable: "I didn't think I'd make it past 25 but it's all gonna be alright".

Tweedy, guitar held high, and his band draw us into the all-American soundscape of Sukierae,ranging from country to blues to rockabilly. On sweet, nostalgic ‘Summer Noon’, our frontman’s wistful voice, singing of coyotes and lions, is punctuated by his son’s almost militaristic drumming. ‘Low Key’ is jerkier, less sentimental - sighing harmonies from backing guitarists contrasting with a more cynical Jeff. We are mesmerised by the simple tenderness of ‘Honeycombed’ as Tweedy is joined by just one other guitar, layered with his own to warm, shimmering effect.

Strange, sensual ‘Diamond Light Part 1’ stands out from the country-tinged crowd, its throbbing, pulsing bass and driving drums pushing underneath avant-garde guitars. Sukie Rae is the nickname of Jeff’s wife, Spencer’s mother, currently fighting cancer, and much of the album focuses on that battle. It’s hard not to be touched by the sight of father and son, faces in profile next to one-another, singing in harmony about a subject so close to their hearts.

The second half of the set is magical. Tweedy is alone, bathed in a single spotlight with the rest of the theatre in darkness. One man and guitar fill the stage perfectly for renditions of songs from his previous lives. Highlights are ‘Shot in the Arm’ and a soulful, personal ‘I’m The Man who Loves You’ from Wilco, and husky, homesick ‘New Madrid’ from Uncle Tupelo. The beautiful, frankly tear-jerking, ‘Please tell my Brother’ from Tweedy’s days in alt-country collective, Golden Smog, is stunning in its simplicity.

His voice and mastery of the guitar carry the tracks during this solo set, lending them a new quality rather than leaving us feeling like there’s something missing. The band’s encore treats us to – among others - old Uncle Tupelo favourite ‘Give Back the Key to My Heart’. Throughout, Tweedy is confident and at ease with the crowd,his voice - , ranging from playful and boyish to sincere and melancholic - as clear and as strong as ever. It is a masterful performance, drawing on a life filled with music.

It’s testament to the esteem these musicians are held in that, even though they spend the first five minutes just subtly scratching their instruments, everyone falls silent the second they’re in. This initial jam, which has a cold lunar quality, gives way to ‘Forevermore’. On record, it’s a song that marshals its forces around metronomic chiming, winning you over by polite – albeit relentless – pleading. Not so here. It’s still plenty relentless, but it’s not asking for anything.

The rhythm section stand out, and it’s clear they’ve both spent their careers anchoring huge, unpinnable sounds. By the end of the next song, ‘Speak to the Wild’, we’ve already been through almost half an hour of hypnotic, sprawling beauty. So when the more compact, “song-like” numbers come out, it’s a bit jarring. James’ guitar solo on ‘The Best Day’ sounds like something Jimmy Page might do. It’s even got, y’know, notes and stuff.

‘Germ Burns’ and ‘Detonate’, which both sound like they could’ve been lifted from side one of ‘Rather Ripped’, carry really well. Especially the former, on which Thurston and James double each other’s parts to blissful effect. But ‘Grace Lake’ turns out to be the highlight of the evening. Googe’s refreshingly bouncy bassline (most of the time she’s thundering) sets up the guitarists’ lush Murray Street-esque meanderings, which wind and build until Moore finally gives us some unabashed, eardrum-perforating racquet abuse.

As he launches down the fret-board, we're convinced the woman next to us is screaming in excitement. But when we turn round, though wide-eyed, her mouth is closed. It turns out the noise is coming from James’ amp. Next we're convinced we can hear some sort of colossal unscrewing, that the Meccano kit of the world is being packed away. But this time it’s just Googe tightening and slackening her strings as she plays.

Hallucinogenic riffs that I’ve got no empirical evidence for seem to be bouncing off the walls of the hall. People are looking to each other in awed bemusement, loving what they’re hearing and knowing that, whatever it is, they may well be the only one hearing it.

Then, in a blink, everything is subdued – the amped instruments so suddenly obedient to Shelley’s jazzy cymbals that you wonder if any of it even happened. The band come back for two encores, including the jaw clenchingly heavy ‘Ono’ - a throwback to 1995’s Psychic Hearts LP – as if to reassure us that it did happen, and it was only a gig after all, then disappear for good.

This is not at all to say the performance wasn’t enjoyable; standout songs were dotted throughout the show. The immense power behind ‘Rainy Taxi’’s jagged guitar and pounding drum, the smartly chosen opener, brought momentum that was carried in to the hugely popular ‘Rent I Pay’, both tracks taken from their 2014 album, They Want My Soul.

Unfortunately this momentum could not be taken on by less successful tunes which dropped tempo and lost impact without the show’s initial onslaught of raw, sharp guitars. ‘The Underdog’ was a marked high point that bucked the trend, building to a twisting squall of noise, a far departure from the studio version, and even saw the use of maracas before it was brought to a raucous climax.

On countless occasions through the night, gazing around you’d have your eye drawn to audience members caught in the irresistible urge to air drum along with Jim Eno or mimic the riffs of Britt Daniel’s guitar. Longer-serving fans Spoon have collected on their 20-year journey to this point were clearly enamoured by older tunes such as ‘Small Stakes’, whose jaunty synth-driven notes cut to rapturous applause.

These numerous successes made the questionable choices of closers all the more curious. Playing not one but two encores even seemed to hint at self-indulgence, when stunning tracks such as ‘Outlier’ and ‘The Way We Get By’ passed, leaving weaker tunes to end the show. But then perhaps that’s what you get as a late arrival to a band with such a deep catalogue of tunes - it’s the long-serving fans that take the most from the experience.

No longer shackled by a teenage way-of-doing-things – they’re older now, more refined and better for it. And of course their fanbase has taken this journey with them. It’s not original to say that The Courteeners’ have an extremely passionate, football-like following. Complimented wonderfully by the number of Mancunian accents resonating from the surrounding Brixton bars spilling out onto the street and into the Academy.

Opening with ‘White Horses’, in accordance with the track listing of the new album, The Courteeners found that most of their new stuff was positively received. And through ping ponging between the albums – so as to tease out the new content – they kept the crowd on their toes with effortless transitions. With a thoroughly warmed-up crowd at their beck and call, The Couteeners arguably captured the night with ‘How Good It Was’. Its infectious riff and Liam’s lazy, Northern drawl, which filled the gaps between, were complimented wonderfully by the man himself strutting the stage, looking every bit an icon.

Allowing the crowd a chance to catch its breath, the band showed off the diversity to their work with a few acoustic tracks. ‘Small Bones’ sounded great live and the romantic vibe of ‘The Rest Of The World Has Gone Home’ was enjoyed by the few couples in attendance – in between the terraced chants of “I am all alone,” of course.

As the evening began to wind down, and with two glaringly obvious tracks still waiting to be played, The Courteeners began to satisfy the masses with ‘Not Nineteen Forever’. “She tried to peel me off the pavement…” The lights come on. “Every fucking night,” remarks Liam, as security pulls a flare-wielding fan from the scuffle on the floor, amidst the imprisoning boos. The spotlights dim. The Courteeners return to the stage and take two commences – more successfully this time – but similarly wild.

The energy maintained for concluding track, ‘What Took You So Long’ and with the lights returning for good this time, fans made their way onto the streets chanting the outro.

Below: More exclusive photos of The Courteeners rocking Brixton Academy

Their cult following would suggest that this band have been selling-out shows for years. Indeed, the four piece from Wales have been touring relentlessly for the past few years, but in the past twelve months, their success has begun to reach fever pitch, making tonight feel like a celebration of hard work. 

Rattling off hits from their debut album The Balcony more passionately than any other band at the moment, Catfish and the Bottlemen appear to be authentically enthusiastic. There is no feeling that these guys take themselves too seriously which is what the crowd so violently react to tonight.

Frontman Van McCann’s gorgeous vocals sound as husky and rapturous live as they do on record, most notably on songs such as ’26’ and ‘Rango’. His flirtatious wordplay is shouted back to him by possibly the most enthusiastic crowd that Koko has ever welcomed through its doors. The band’s volume exceeds that of the audience but so brilliantly avoids sounding as though they have increased volume for the sake of it: the four play so cohesively together, almost as though they’re a piece of machinery. Yet it is for precisely the opposite reason that Catfish and the Bottlemen have been so successful. Moments such as a more intimate rendition of ‘Homesick’ as well as the winks, smiles and thumbs up the other bandmates give members of the audience make the band supremely accessible.

They may not be the most innovative band to breakthrough in 2014. In fact, you may watch them and feel as though you have heard a lot of similar bands do the same thing. You might be correct in thinking that. But you’ve never seen it done better.

Catfish and the Bottlemen will be touring in the Spring of 2015. For more information and tickets visit here.

Meanwhile, drummer Ben Thatcher is already on his second set of drumsticks, the first pair went flying during the second song. It’s that kind of night: snarling, bloody and very, very loud.

Formed early last year, the two-piece are straight up rock. Edgier than the Black Keys and present day Muse, but more accessible than Rage Against the Machine, Royal Blood’s debut shot to No.1 this summer. Fresh from a Radio One appearance, their mainstream rise also shows little sign of abating.

It helps that Kerr makes his bass sound like a supersonic piledriver in a way that even Josh Homme must quake at. From the first angry splutter, it’s a wall of noise that pulls in all around. ‘Cruel World’ is typical of the darkness, both lyrically and sonically, that also liberates. A firm two fingers to the world “choking so slowly, with hands wrapped round my throat”, its riffs and falsetto swoons incite a near riot. Breakthrough single ‘Little Monster’ has the same effect, leading to Royal Blood chants from buzzing revellers.

‘Loose Change’ is wonderfully Jack White inspired, guttural and animalistic in its themes of frustration as the pair posture around each other like fighting cocks. Whilst the sound and compositions will need freshening for the next record, right now Royal Blood is exactly what rock needs to wake it from its slumber.

The night ends with Kerr dedicating ‘Out of the Black’ to the girlfriend of a man who tried to bottle him. All hell breaks loose. Thatcher jumps in the crowd, as reverb brings the Ballroom to its knees. Kerr holds his guitar aloft in defiance. It’s a beautifully brutal assassination.

Such is Smith's US success, it feels like a privilege to witness him on the UK-based dates of his ‘In The Lonely Hour’ tour. The latest stop on his homecoming is at the Hammersmith Apollo (the first of two dates) and there’s an air of celebration.

That feeling continues as Smith opens with EP favourite 'Nirvana' - accompanied by a near 10-piece live band. Pop music is named so because it’s popular. But this is more than pop - it's soul at its most infectious, illustrated by the sea of Londoners two-stepping to the funk-filled 'Restart'.

The Apollo is overflowing - this is easily a show worthy of the O2. But it's fitting that the grittier Apollo, steeped in history, hosts this show from one of London's finest. Smith remarks how he played the same venue a year ago, opening for the ubiquitous Emeli Sandé. Support act of the night, electro-pop outfit Years & Years, look set to tread a similar path to greatness. For an artist with just one album release to his name, the set is wall-to-wall hits.

From 'Leave Your Lover' and 'I'm Not The Only One' to 'Like I Can' and 'I've Told You Now', Smith's canon belies his years in the business. 'Lay Me Down' proves the showstopper; you simply cannot put on a show like this with a voice that is anything less than perfect - and the song shows that Smith's is faultless. There are of course nods to his arrival on the scene, as we're treated to soul-drenched renditions of 'Latch' and 'La La La', Smith's collaborations with Disclosure and Naughty Boy respectively.

Just when you think he's ran out of hits, the show closes with monster track 'Stay With Me' - and we're reminded just why Sam Smith is the name on everyone's lips. The 'In The Lonely Hour' tour sees Smith depart for the rest of Europe this month, before a string of US dates in early 2015.

With reports claiming he’s nailed on to release the next James Bond theme, who knows what he’ll have achieved by the next time he returns to these humble shores. The British boy done good.

Below: 14 brilliant photos of Sam Smith stunning Hammersmith Apollo

Starting with an incredibly complex live AV show from Koreless, everything got off to a very mellow start. Set against the backdrop of a giant screen, the producer performed with a string section and saxophonist, helping to enable an incredibly relaxed and immersive atmosphere.

The images on the screen were coordinated to music that was mostly devoid of a beat, except in some very subtle cases. Instead of a banging set, it was more an exploration of texture and colour, both in terms of sound and visuals. Moments of literal darkness were offset by extremely vibrant images of sunsets, clouds or colourful balloons escaping into the sky. The effect was absorbing and the perfect warm-up for what was to come.

Watch Koreless performing 'Sun' at The Roundhouse below

Evian Christ pretty much stole the show however. The Triangle Records legend displayed exactly why he is becoming such a sought after producer. His sound is part gothic, part house, part techno, part dubstep, part trap and on stage he is absolutely in your face. Watch out for 'Fuck It None Of Y'all Don't Rap' live, it's disgracefully hectic.

He played easily on of the best DJ sets of the year, hiding behind the blinding lights of moving screens creating three-dimensional images in mid air, static and strobing with smoke rising in the air. After series of seizure inducing flashing lights the words Evian Christ were left suspended where his dark figure had departed from. It was one hell of a statement.

See Evian Christ's live set up below

Canadian producer and LuckyMe affiliate Jacques Greene had a tough act to follow with the closing set. Choosing a more subtle route, he managed to build a more restrained set, one that crawled slowly under the skin, much like new track '1 4 Me'.

It was melodic and spine-tingling, creating some of the greatest atmospherics that a live DJ show can offer. It built and built to an absolute crescendo with 'No Excuse': by encore time the room was absolutely on fire. 

Three contrasting sets, all perfectly programmed, differently set up visually and audibly and incredibly forward thinking. These three are the stars of the future, long may they reign.

 Listen to '1 4 Me' by Jacques Greene below

He’s also famed for his Eurovision Song Contest appearance, where he sung in English and angered French traditionalists. It's this mischievous side we see tonight, but not straight away - things begin simply with an instrumental introduction emanating from the two drum kits, bass, and an impressive synth set up. It’s clear though that we’re here for a show and Tellier, who is dressed in a Viven Westwood designed multi coloured suit, isn’t going to robotically churn out song-after-song.

The maverick Frenchman is going to make the crowd wait to hear his mesmerising repertoire that ranges from chamber pop to more solely classical instrumentals, erotic synth pop, and bossanova. Greeting the adoring fans he has at his feet he makes himself at home on stage by lighting up a cigar: “Can we smoke too!?” shouts one audience member. ”No you cannot! I am the singer! But you can take Cocaine, LSD. I took one piece just before!” he admits.

It’s from this point in the show that humorous ten minute rambles between songs break out. With a confident swagger he speaks in an illusionary manner, and takes on more serious issues such as the changing landscape of the music industry. He complains about only getting paid 200 Euros for the show and compares Universal Records to lions that are out for themselves.

It’s all in good humour though. His blasé attitude, and humorous stage banter frustrates some audience members though, they yell for him to sing. Thankfully Tellier’s two hour slot is long enough to cope with the extended rambles meaning he still gets out a decent set that’s most moving during his hit ‘La Ritournelle’.

Although this indebted to chemical experimentation it’s the musical inspiration that rings the loudest and such is the majesty of the band, even hearing one track would have been worth leaving the house for.

Below: 13 exclusive photos of Sebastien Tellier at Village Underground

Thankfully, none of the bands tonight have any intention of allowing the audience to do this. Its a blessed relief when a support band can deliver a half decent set that doesn't send the audience instantly reaching for their phones to check for messages that aren't there. The Xcerts gleefully take advantage of this larger sized venue to try out their brand of melodic rock on with grace and gusto.

Evidenced by their performance and the material from their new album There Is Only You, their days in the support position could deservedly be numbered.

Twin Atlantic in contrast are past in full headline mode, nearing arena and stadium level bands based on the number and energy of fan base filling the venue tonight. To rip-off the Lester Bang-character from the film Almost Famous, thanks to their single 'Heart and Soul' they're now entering 'the middle': a difficult place between the toilet venues of old and the 10,000 seater stadiums.

In recent trends this is the time when the music industry support for bands wanes. But the reason why Twin Atlantic have received a continued leg up until now soon becomes clear. An atmospheric start of tribal-sounding drums and a stage bathed in blue light sees the band come to the stage for opener 'The Ones That I Love' – an entrance a little pretentious for a band this size.

Yet things soon pick up pace into high octane rock with 'Hold On'. And it is here on the red line where the energy meter for the evening is set and seems reluctant to move for the night. There is no let up in the pace or the power of the music to follow. This is great for the half of the audience who are looking ahead at the full span of their teens, but exhausting and disengaging for the half who are cultivating a mid-rift spread instead. And its around 'Fall Into The Party' and 'End Of Our Sweet Universe' with their almost One Direction-like pop quality and cushy that the penny drops as to why record labels have continued interest here.

Every song is styled as an anthem, every chorus is huge and most of the lyrics are vapid in their grandiosity. Its the type of thing early teens lap up, like a rock music alcopop that's easy to swallow and utterly marketable. And its at this point, the veil drops on this identi-kit rock. The forced and unnecessary sounding drum solo in 'The Ghost of Eddie', the heavier 'Cell Mate' and the obligatory acoustic number 'Crash Land' all carry the trappings of rock folklore. Yet all are undertaken with a lacking sense of depth and conviction.

While the energy levels stay high, this performance is as organic as the energy drinks that most likely fuel it. Leaving the gig craving a slower song or some sort of loud/quiet dynamic, its hard to fault Twin Atlantic for what they're doing. Making every song sound like the next big release or stadium sing-a-long is great for securing success with the generation who have boundless energy and short attention spans. How long it will keep them famous however, is another question.

Turning a sprawling space into a cathedral of sound and hub for the finest alternative acts on the road right now, Pitchfork Paris was more than just the last hurrah of 2014 and perfect farewell party, but a centre of discovery.

With an immculate line-up, pop-up playground and an inimitable atmosphere, we're not likely to forget our time at Pitchfork Paris any time soon. They couldn't have done much more. Hell, they even brought the sunshine back for three days only. 

Here are the 13 best, most definitive moments of Pitchfork Paris Music Festival 2014.

1. Chvrches
We've lost count of the amount of times we've seen Chvrches live in the last two years, and the truth is we doubt we will ever tire of doing so. 

Taking to the stage with singer Lauren Mayberry painted as a skeleton, the Scottish electro-pop trio delivered a set worthy of headliners. Fresh from selling out London's Brixton Academy the previous night, they've evolved from those nervous ones to watch we remember from 2012, into a band with arena-ready potential.

Shimmering gems from their flawless 2013 debut The Bones Of What You Believe sound as fresh as when we first fell in love with them, while new track 'Get Away' from the controversial BBC Drive re-scoring marks an adventurous leap into the future. With an absolute eyegasm of a sci-fi laser and light show, they have the songs, charisma and presence to match.

2. St Vincent
The electricity of anticipation for St Vincent hung heavily in the air, before the tension was burst with the arrival of her dystopian fever dream and the bubbling menace of 'Rattlesnake'. The wide-eyed firecracker adventure of 'Digital Witness', 'Marrow' and 'Cheerleader' held all present enraptured as Annie Clark and band artfully led through the clockwork-choreography of their alt-rock freakshow.

As the insanity of 'Krokodil' and 'Your Lips Are Red' brought things to a close as this future icon terrified the front rows, our only criticism was that it ended too soon. We could watch this all night.

3. The War On Drugs
Huge crowds gathered to see The War On Drugs for the sheer ecstasy of what they are as a live experience. The near flawless Americana-tinged haze-rock of Lost In The Dream is given the space in needs to breathe live on stage, and the warming embrace of 'Red Eyes' married all present in song - a fittingly unforgettable celebration of one of the true success stories of 2014.

4. Jungle
Wow. Just, wow. Jungle brought their incredible Mercury-nominated self-titled album to Paris, making the Grand Halle erupt in a relentless rave with their inescapably feel-good modern soul - taking the absolute best elements of soul and dance from the last 40 years, and sending them racing into the future.

It's one hell of a rush, and seeing the thousands present arm in arm and out of their minds to 'Busy Earnin' and 'The Heat' is a memory that will stay with us for years to come.

5. Caribou
The good times continued with a little help from Caribou, as Dan Snaith's blissed-out, psychedelic electronica caught everyone in its grip and locked them in a dreamy haze of dance. With a career-spanning set that culminated in a sea of balloons falling down upon the crowd, Caribou proved with the right sound and the right spirit, summer never really ends.

6. Foxygen
You can't beat a little unhinged insanity from Foxygen. Punk, blues, soul, grunge and everything else collided in a chaotic and pulse-racing set, with frontman Sam France terrifying the audience as he squawked and rolled across the stage with total abandon and no care for his own safety.

With the swagger of Jagger and more than a passing likeness to Iggy Pop's shirtless madmen routine, France left Paris breathless, and raised the bar for all that followed.

7. Mogwai
It's only bloody Mogwai. Of course they were going to be a highlight. 

They received the warmest welcome on the opening evening - one fit for heroes. Opening with 'Heard About You Last Night' before the brooding perfection of 'I'm Jim Morrison, I'm Dead', the daddies of post-rock sent Paris into a deep trance, before painting a full spectrum of sound with classics 'Hunted By A Freak' and 'Mogwai Fear Satan', punctuated by 'Remurdered' and 'Mexican Grand Prix' to render a whole world of their own in glorious widescreen. It was bloody brilliant, and they always will be. 

8. How To Dress Well
"Turn that shit off," ordered a good-humoured Tom Krell, instructing for the lights to be turned down low for a short but oh-so-sweet meander through his velvet-smooth electro-pop noir meets cheese-free R&B. Giving a shout out to his 'mentor' Beck who was watching the stream at home, Krell shone as one an marvellously compelling presence in his own right. The city of romance may have found its new Casanova.

9. Charlotte OC
Drawing an impressive crowd to be enchanted by her enigmatic pop-noir, Charlotte OC's set leaves an impression that more than matches the hype. Having then met her backstage, we're in no doubt that she's making music for only the right reasons. She's on her way - from Blackburn to the brightest of futures. 

10. Jon Hopkins
Sensual, cinematic, three-dimensional, unreal. A sensation that runs from the back of the brain to the balls of your feet. 

11. Tune-Yards
Tribal beats, eccentric energy and one hell of a live spectacle. Fine tuned and choreographed, but pumping with a sense of wild freedom, Paris saw the miraculous 2014 album Nikki Nack brought to life in such vivid technicolour and genre-crossing vim really does make for proof that this is one of the most inventive and exhilarating acts on the road right now. Go see Tune-Yards, at all costs.

12. Future Islands 
"This song goes out to anyone who ever said I was a vampire," cackled frontman Samuel T Herring in booming Transylvanian accent, resplendent in fancy dress. "You were fucking right."

Indeed, there's something superhuman about the way this man performs. As he prowls the stage, beating his chest, barking and flowing through his fluid, elastic dance moves, there's a primal sense of urgency to his presence - and the energy is infectious. Paris being united in song as we jerked our way through 'Seasons (Waiting On You)' is a memory that shall endure.

13. Belle & Sebastian
If you can think of a more perfect place to see Belle & Sebastian than in Paris in the twilight hour of Halloween, then we'd love to hear it. Opening with 'You're Just A Baby', 'Funny Little Frog' and 'Sukie In The Graveyard', their bookish romance and melodrama blossoms in the open arms of their madly doting following.

The love is reciprocated as they ask those not in fancy dress to expose those who have made the effort, before inviting them on stage for a surreal dance-off. The classics 'The Fox In The Snow' and 'The Boy With The Arab Strap' are welcomed as old friends, while the bongo-driven disco curiosity of 'Perfect Couples' and dancefloor-filling 'The Party Line' showcase a refreshingly surprising new direction on upcoming album, Girls In Peacetime Want To Dance. 

In short: Belle & Sebastian are national treasures, that we shall always hold dear. 

Below: The beautiful people of Pitchfork Paris 2014 in photos

They came on in a burst of orange and yellow, accompanied by lighting which really complimented the performance. Meanwhile the busy stage inspires a community feel, mirroring their music, which is the sum of many complex parts.

Their biggest hits, ‘The Heat’, ‘Busy Earnin’’ and ‘Platoon’, were all rapturously received. It’s certainly hard not to be seduced by the layered basslines and tempered falsetto vocals.

Occasionally the mood scaled back, and in those moments it feels like Jungle are still somewhat finding their identity. Perhaps that’s the price of getting so much viral attention for a few songs, whilst remaining shrouded in mystery otherwise.

The set was euphoric and intelligent, with something of the 80s movie montage about it; especially when they sung ‘Don’t You Forget About Me’ (bet you just pictured The Breakfast Club). There’s nothing wrong with that vibe: it makes for a pretty epic, involved experience.

Live, their sound veers towards Disclosure's dance tones, but despite their meteoric rise over the past year, there’s something about them which remains distant from that full force, mainstream sound. This is no bad thing. Their lyrics and vocals, vulnerable and strong, recall The Child of Love, and the core of their sound, driven by syncopated smoothness, remains rooted in funk and soul.

Their nostalgic tilt explains their success: making new the riffs and rhythms which are embedded in music lovers’ collective consciousness. It makes them unique on the current British market, and at times the crowd let them down; as though they were unsure of how to engage.

Any concerns about this were quelled when we had the pleasure of speaking to Dominic, Jungle percussionist, who seemed humbled and proud: “Something special happened tonight, you get nervous and then you connect with the crowd and they connect with you and you forget that moment”. That’s the only review you needed, really.

 Watch Jungle perform 'Busy Earnin' below

What sounds like a Hammond organ gives a nice little nod to in the direction of 60s garage and The Doors, but that’s about the only thing “nice” or “little” about this performance.

The imposing figure of frontman MJ (aka Matt Johnson) is a sight to behold – hurling distorted shapes over his keyboard as he omits an other-worldly howl. His lyrics are so distorted they’re pretty much unintelligible, but they still manage to sound foreboding, like a warning. This is music you need to hear, it’s not just for fun.

Fast-paced muscular drums keep the swirling guitars and swooping vocals on old and new tracks (check out ‘Beginners’ on the new LP) in check: this is what makes Hookworms definitively not shoegaze, and what keeps the crowd hooked.

There’s a change of pace about two thirds in, somewhere in the grey sonic area between ‘On Leaving’ and ‘Off Screen’; everyone on stage seems to have gone into slow-mo, even the drips of sweat flying off drummer JN’s hair move at half pace. It’s like we’re watching them play under water.

When we resurface, with the sexy dirge of ‘Off Screen’, it’s with double the energy. No self-indulgent 11 minute guitar solos, every note sounds totally essential, urgent even, and incredibly tight – which is an odd thing to say about a “psychedelic noise rock” outfit (thank you, Wikipedia), but it’s what sets them apart from the neo-psych crowd.

This is fuss-free, punk-like psychedelia – tripping on Pro-Plus rather than acid. Not a word is uttered during the set, not even an encore: that would just be self-indulgent, one thing Hookworms most definitely are not. They’re a whole new breed of their own.

Onstage however, it really could be a summer evening. Bespectacled, preppy lead singer Martin Courtney and the gang are lit up in warm reds and yellows as they groove their shoulders and bob their heads in unison, hazy smoke adding to the feeling of reverie.

The crowd respond best to tracks from 2011’s Days – ‘Easy’, ‘Green Aisles’, ‘Municipality’, and ‘It’s Real’ – a nostalgic record that already feels like a classic, an old faded photo album, yellow and curling at the edges, full of sentimentality. And the band play them flawlessly, the glowing, easy harmonies and bendy Shadows-style surf guitar wrapping us up in a familiarly warm blanket.

But crowd-pleasing aside, their performance is at its most refreshing when the boys meander off the sunny well-beaten track, away from their winning formula and Courtney’s idiosyncratic vocals. The beautiful instrumental ‘April’s Song’, with its tremolo-effect guitar gently shimmering, is surprisingly mesmerising.

Bassist Alex Bleeker sings an understated lead on ‘How Might I Live’, his deeper, touchingly vulnerable voice: “Down in my home, Louisiana / Down in my home where I stay / Got to find the words to say you're not the one I love / How might I live to see the day?” – with its southern drawl locating the band in a different US music tradition than they are accustomed to, more country than California, more Neil Young than Beach Boys. When Courtney harmonises with him it strangely sounds prettier and more delicate than on other tracks.

The boys, with a sound that remains similar throughout the majority of their set, sometimes run the risk of drifting into ‘samey’ territory, but with their smiles and charm – at one point they break into ‘ Happy Birthday’ for a bandmate – and their obvious happiness on stage, it’s impossible to hold it against them. Don’t fight the dreaminess, embrace it.

It's a hunger that Clark was put on this Earth to chase and feed. We all have much in common after all. As Clark herself puts it, we were all born before the 21st Century, we all take pleasure in zipping up suitcases as it means we're going somewhere but haven't had to go there yet, we're all secret pyromaniacs, and we all still cling to that juvenile belief that one day we'll fly, if we never EVER, give up. 

It's that fiery resolve and pursuit of wonder that has seen Clark evolve into the otherworldly being that stands before us tonight. This is not your standard singer-songwriter affair. St Vincent has taken the idiosyncrasies of her sound and thoughts and magnified them with choreographed brilliance to create an awe-inspiring rush of theatre with an explosive punk spirit. She's exaggerated herself beyond the icon-in-the-making she is, to become something more akin to an android cult leader from a dystopian future. 

St Vincent brings her 'strange fever dream' to life, and it's a dizzying delight to be welcomed into it. Not only that, but it's a strong contender for the live event of the year. 

But first, there’s unpolished potential in support act Coves, whose pop is drenched in shoegaze and psychedelica, and who glide through their set confidently and with great charm. Though lead vocals come from Beck Wood, she is, more often than not, joined by John Ridgard, who wails hypnotically in unison. For the most part, it works well, though we occasionally find ourselves craving the extra layer a harmony might bring. On balance though, it’s a sonically rich and well-judged warm-up, and deserves greater credit given that St Vincent is impossible to precede. When their set ends, they set down their instruments without a word, and walk offstage without so much as a cursory glance back, exuding confidence and promise.

The bubbling menace of 'Rattlesnake' kicks off proceedings for St Vincent, before soon erupting into a maniacal explosion of axe-mastery - and so sets the tone for the rest of the night: grace and insanity, hand in hand. 

'Digital Witness' and 'Marrow' both swagger with a robotic funk, while 'Actor Out Of Work' and 'Birth In Reverse' both see Annie shine at her most unhinged - not least for the sight alone of her mechanical frenzied footwork to and fro with remarkable guitarist Toko Yasuda.

In an astonishing 90 minutes, she pulls off one hell of an audio-visual extravaganza. Clutching onto her soon to be iconic purple pyramid as she rolls down to the stage floor, this is less a rock show and more an immersive art show that attacks you with light and sound. The sheer bat-shit frenzy of 'Krokodil' sees out the first part of the set, before the stunned howls of the crowd welcome her back on for an intimate rendition of 'Strange Mercy', and then all hell breaks loose on 'Year Of The Tiger' and 'Your Lips Are Red' - invading the crowd, scaling the pillars, running amok. She simply couldn't have done more.

There is no character like her. One could call her 'The Thin White Duchess' at this stage, but the truth is there is no one else on this Earth who is doing the magnificent spectacle that St Vincent brought to the stage this evening.

True, she is the closest thing this generation has to Bowie, but only in the sense that she's a freak, an other, living in a world of her own - and what a wonderful world it is. 

St Vincent played:
Rattlesnake
Digital Witness
Cruel
Marrow
Every Tear Disappears
I Prefer Your Love
Actor Out of Work
Surgeon
Cheerleader
Prince Johnny
Birth in Reverse
Regret
Huey Newton
Bring Me Your Loves
Krokodil
Encore:
Strange Mercy
Year of the Tiger
Your Lips Are Red

Below: 11 awesome photos of St Vincent stunning The Roundhouse

Whilst anyone who has listened to the heart-racing album will be familiar with the tone, they may have noted the roll call of icons replaced with repeated media mentions of Newman, preparing the adoring fans for his imminent arrival on stage.

One may initially seem sceptical of this self-promotion from such a young artist. It was barely a year ago when he was joining Rudimental on stage during their house-dropping show in Brixton. He’s clearly taken a note from their lead, as there wasn't a body in the house that wasn't infected by his boundless energy and soaring vocals.

Singing along with every rolling hook as he went through his performance, the songs of heartache and heartbreak had the girls weak at the knees. In such a short space of time, he has grown into his role as a performer and taken cues from those around him, engaging the audience and leaving nothing behind.

Below: 12 awesome photos of John Newman live at Brixton Academy