My Bloody Valentine's fans could not have been in any doubt about what they were in for: staff at the Roundhouse were on hand to give out free earplugs. Depending on your view, it amounted to a daring statement of intent or an attempt to indemnify themselves against any resulting damage. Either way, the gesture was a reminder that the indie quartet's reunion shows - 20 years after their era-defining album Isn't Anything - were unlikely to feature any concessions to the mellowing effect of middle age.

Just as earthquakes have epicentres, My Bloody Valentine have the co-frontman Kevin Shields - the self-styled architect of the band's “glide” guitar sound. To the far right of the greying, impassive Shields it was left to the smiling Bilinda Butcher to convey any sense that My Bloody Valentine might be finding all this as exciting as their fans. Immersed within the white heat of Shields and Butcher's playing, I Only Said saw the drummer Colm O'Ciosoig forging a physically irresistible clatter that he miraculously kept up through the entire show. As Come In Alone - the sound of raga-rock being shoved into an internal combustion engine - blurred into Only Shallow, pupil-shrinkingly bright footage of blue skies suggested that some sunglasses alongside the earplugs wouldn't have gone amiss.

At this point, few could have imagined that, in terms of sensory endurance, the main event had yet to come. A pulsating reprise of their 1988 single You Made Me Realise ended in a ... well, quite what it was exactly was hard to say. A chord? This noise didn't seem comprised of notes, exactly. So it was a noise? Well, in part, yes. But one of almost subsonic, wind-generating magnitude, such as a space shuttle might make when taking off.

But even space shuttles can't sustain this whatever-it-was for upwards of 20 minutes. My Bloody Valentine, on the other hand, stood stock-still staring at a crowd who in turn saw fit to react in a number of ways. Most put fingers in ears that already had earplugs in them. Some used phones to photograph the “noise”. In a sort of indie-rock equivalent to theatregoers who pointedly laugh at Shakespearean humour, some closed their eyes and danced along.

But as long as the band remained standing on stage, a few hundred people felt that they might lose face by retreating. And so, gradually, My Bloody Valentine's wall of sound turned into a wall of attrition. As far as I know, they might still be there now.

Tour continues: tonight, Roundhouse; June 28-29, Manchester Apollo; July 2-3, Glasgow Barrowland

www.mybloodyvalentine.co.uk

Click here to find tickets for Bloody Valentine

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