Half Man Half Biscuit live: National Shite Day? Not in Wolverhampton

I don't know why Half Man Half Biscuit strike a chord with me.

The Wirral post-punkers, now in their fifth decade together, bless clean and mechanical music with references to obscure Eastern European football teams and C-list celebrities who might be on ITV2.

It's an acquired taste, sure, but it inspires. Something about the way Nigel Blackwell manages to illuminate the dullest corners of British life means that the band have amassed a cult following and can attract thousands to an industrial estate in South Wolverhampton on a Friday in November.

Half Man Half Biscuit would fall if the music was not good, but the band are as accomplished as any of their contemporaries. Variations on album editions, disco drums, lead guitar and bass, sometimes in harmony and sometimes in conflict.

Except the vocalist is not declaring the apocalypse, he carries an Asda bag on stage and comments on the uselessness of undetachable bottle tops for a few minutes, before plunging into 'The Light at the End of the Tunnel (Is the Light of an Oncoming Train)', or 'All I Want For Christmas is a Dukla Prague Away Kit', the latter chronicling a game of Subbuteo that goes south.

Their most popular song, 'National Shite Day', is played towards the end of the main set, featuring the line of Greek poetic calibre "there's a man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in millets".

National Shite Day is perhaps the best prospectus for Half Man Half Biscuit; un-second-guessable, relentlessly referential, continually hilarious.

Finishing the set with 'Joy Division Oven Gloves', a song which spawned the actual creation of Unknown Pleasures mitts, the band make use of the 45 minutes left before curfew with a few classics from the 80s ('Fucking Ell It's Fred Titmus') and even a Slade cover to pay tribute to the city of the gig.

In a generation of bands that are fascinatingly style over substance, Half Man Half Biscuit are Encyclopedia Britannica levels of dense lyrically but light and familiar sonically. Oddly, there's something for everyone in the set that spanned two hours and 20 minutes.

If you were to work out an hourly rate, the band delivered an outstanding amount of joy for my ticket price.

Detached from the industry, the Wirral four-piece will likely not be coming to a place near you - but they are definitely worth an away day. Just make sure to be wearing your Dukla Prague shirt.