Recent politics surround the EU and nationhood, fantasies of Irish Sea bridges and trading borders more porous than limestone have revived the granular rub between Eire and Britain, and the Celtic Tiger cool of the Nineties is a history module these days.

For record buyers, Bona Rays left limited evidence for their existence. One single was issued by the aptly named Mystery Records in 1981. Pressed in a limited quantity by the independent facility Lyntone, it featured “We're Never Going to Miss You”, a poppy new wave outing with funky bass and stabs of synth, and “Catch 22”, a more up-tempo track which came across as an attractive combination of Pink Military and Teardrop Explodes.

As Gaz Coombes noted around the halfway point of Supergrass’s Barrowland set “the last time we were here it was to say goodbye”. That was a decade ago, when one of Britpop’s most enduring acts finally headed into the sunset. Nothing lasts forever in pop though, and here were Oxford’s finest, back onstage, and looking in fine fettle.

While it is only right that Birmingham is finally getting well-deserved credit as the well-spring and self-proclaimed Home of Metal, the media coverage of the Midlands’ place in musical history might lead anyone to think that this particular story both began and ended with the mighty Black Sabbath.

Matt Shultz was clearly taking no chances. The Cage the Elephant frontman appeared onstage underneath a large umbrella, presumably bought to cope with the day’s deluge of rain. In the ever effervescent Shultz’s hands it was swiftly used as a prop, kickstarting a lively evening of old fashioned rock 'n’ roll.

Sam Lee has a strong, richly resonant and recognisable voice – and equally strong beliefs. His album Old Wow has really caught the spirit of moment: it is already being hailed as folk album of the year, even the decade, and last night’s gig at EartH in Hackney, the London leg of the album launch tour, was packed.

It might have been 24 hours after Valentine’s Day, but James McGovern still seemed to have a touch of romance in his head. At one stage during the Murder Capital’s bruising set he referenced his floral-patterned shirt as evidence that he was feeling the spirit of the previous day, and perhaps that should not surprise, for the Murder Capital are a band with plenty of heart.

Spook The Herd concludes with “A Fitting End”. In a cracked, reflective voice, Hazel Wilde sings: “I want a door to the Nineties…what a fitting ending, what a perfect scene.” By hoping for a portal into the recent past, it seems an attempt is being made to escape into – or even bring back – times when there was less negativity to deal with than today. A form of nostalgia maybe. Or a criticism of where things are now.