It’s three o’clock on a Monday afternoon and we’re at London’s 100 Club, where The Amazing Snakeheads will take to the stage later in the evening. When they do, they go straight for the jugular, opening with The Truth Serum, complete with its hand-around-the-throat howl of ‘They’re out for fuckin’ everybodyyyyy!” Bassist William Coombe joins straight from necking spirits at the bar, sliding his jacket off, guitar on and launching into that relentless dun-dun-dun-dun-dunnn-dunnn-dunnn pummel in one fell swoop. Total TCB. This is what we’re dealing with here.

“High energy rock ’n’ roll, singer Dale Barclay explains, not that we needed telling, whilst cracking open a Stella from the Sainsbury’s bag in front of us (the boys are lacking its perfect partner of a Gregg’s pasty today).

“You’ll probably get scared when Dale gets his angry face on, his energy face,” drummer Jordon Hutchison says. “Aye! Fucking disco death mask face. Something like that. A fucking trance man.”

The trio have been playing together for four years, for themselves and no-one else. Now they’re in the position where people are hungry for it. “I want yer album. Sort it oot,” someone irks on Soundcloud. By the time you read this, it’ll have been unleashed. The record’s called Amphetamine Ballads. Makes sense.

“Me and William have been friends since we were little,” Dale clarifies. “Then we met Jordon, who was my neighbour and we started the band.” The Snakeheads are powering through – they’ve been up since five, bombing down the motorway in a van from Glasgow, where they also cut the LP. “It was a great learning experience for us, know what I mean?” William says. “First time I had ever done it.”

They’re not a group to theorise about, you just have to feel it. Get out there and see them live. They’re visceral, taking no prisoners.

“To me it’s about the here and now, turning up, getting on with it – and living for that,” Dale elucidates. We’re looking forward to going abroad. We’re getting to go all over and play music.”

“I heard the hospitality on the continent can be much more generous,” Jordon chips in. “I mean, not that we’re arsed. I’d sleep in a fucking garage but if someone’s gonna keep offering you champagne, you’re gonna keep on drinking it, right?”