Shadowfen are at the vanguard of Mythical Power Metal for the coming Apocalypse and have left their fantasy realm for one night to bring their Orc-slaying, battle hammer swinging, Warrior Metal to BOBI. Crikey! Forged in the heat of battle, enshrouded by the mysterious mists of the fens around Peterborough, Shadowfen will be battering us all in to submission with symphonic epics, beastly riffs and thundering drums which is all wrapped up in mystical storytelling and a spirit of defiance at the modern world. So, if you like Metal, and that is Metal with a capital M, that is laced with dark theatrics, high fantasy antics and a mix of myth and melody, Shadowfen will be a band you will be raising your goblet of mead to, before throwing on your cloak, pulling up the hood, jumping on your trusty steed and riding in to battle against the invading Orc armies! Or, heading to the BOBI gig to catch them live. Either way, you are in for some METAL mayhem.

Nottingham noiseniks Family of Addiction have been described in reviews of late as “loud, chaotic and brimming with explosive energy” as well as tales of wall shaking ferocity in and around the East Midlands alternative/Punk scene. An unpolished, raw amalgamation of Grunge and Punk Rock they have a grubby, anarchic and wonderfully unpolished muscular Rock sound that would be perfect on a bill, or a split 7” single, with our good friends down the road in Sleaford, Soaper. The intensity of early Nirvana, the barrelling heaviness of Tad and the garage band days of Soundgarden, it’s all very evocative of the plaid shirts and ripped jeans Grunge era, but as with those bands of the late 80s/early 90s, there’s the ghost of underground Punk lingering around too. It’s rough and ready, dense and dirty and it’s hitting Boston tonight!

Matthew Aylett returns to BOBI for a third time, but this will be the first time he’s brought his Autumnal acoustic Americana to our new venue, where, I imagine the more intimate setting will suit his tunes to tee. Thematically, taking his influences from the vast, flat Fenlands of Lincolnshire, the sun setting on the endless horizon as leaves fall from the trees, his musical pointers however are from the other side of the Atlantic. Blues-y Bob Dylan numbers, woozy Phosphorescent-esque introspection, Leonard Cohen’s and Towns van Zandt’s lyrical prowess … it all combines to create an evocative, maudlin, twilight hour, whisky by the fire sense of melancholia and it’s rather beautiful. As you’ll see tonight.