I'm at The Montague Arms, a small pub in New Cross that has a venue shoved awkwardly in the back. Stuffed Animal Corpses and life-sized suits of armour sit proudly around the walls, and it feels like we're in a deleted scene from a particularly morose Wes Anderson movie. Tonight is the inaugural event from South London based Badpuss Promotions, as they attempt to capture this kind of crystallised notion of a DIY, no thrills rock show.

Psychedelic sounds are creeping their way back into UK guitar music, as bands dilute these ambitious, expansive soundscapes of Loveless or Kula Shaker until they're left with something more immediate and more accessible. Guitar trio Seers commit to an ambitious, colourful texture with impressive assurance. This kind of music usually relies on these big systems and brilliant acoustics, as the layers of feedback and cymbal crashes creep above audiences like a slowly swelling wave. But here, the likes of 'Vile', with righteously loud drum rolls and piercing lead guitar immediately outgrow this modest setting. They make no attempt to hide their influences, but it never feels like a throwback, allowing each baseline and vocal phrase to melt into each other into something irrepressibly cool.

You get the feeling that Strange Cages wake up every morning cursing this decade they were born in. It's not just the Seattle haircuts or the polished, brown leather boots. There's this intangible essence surrounding their performance tonight. The way the guitars hang carelessly around their necks, the nonchalance of the singer as he approaches the microphone - like time has dragged them through the last twenty years whilst they're half asleep. The woozy 'Desert' lives up to his name, oozing that tired haziness you get when you stay out in the sun for too long. They're stepping on well-trodden ground, but it doesn't stop them rendering this sound entirely theirs, transcending this simple, very era specific pastiche almost on conviction alone.

There's little online presence for headliners Gang, and you get the feeling that the very phrase 'social media' turns their stomachs. This Brighton via Canterbury trio represent this kind of no thrills, bare bones notion of a rock band that's very much becoming an old, time-stamped relic in today's scene. Their mix of sludgy, doom-laden grunge and creates an ink-black atmosphere, as any glimmer of a hook or a cadence is drowned in these dense layers of feedback and distortion. You can imagine frontman Eric Tormey reading passages from Kafka over another thumping guitar instrumental and it sitting nicely on their next album. There's more to them than just ambience alone though, with the sheer volume alone making a mockery out of the fact they only have three members. The heavy, opaque 'Eye Garden' is packed with aggression, trudging forward with this kind of sinister sense of purpose, capturing essences of goth, post punk and hardcore without ever relying on them.

It's easy to dismiss these kind of DIY rock shows as pure nostalgia, attempting to capture an idea that is becoming outdated. If you look hard enough though, there is still a scene bubbling under the surface. It might be in a basement somewhere, it might be at a house party in some student's living room, or it might be at the back of a weird pub in South-East London. There are no support acts, no warm ups, and no promo, just four young bands doing their thing and then having a beer afterwards. The intention is commendable, and it's encouraging to see people - probably for little or no profit of their own - still putting nights like this on. Questions about guitar music's place in 2015 might still make the front pages of magazines, but in the meantime there are still people curating these events, and still bands playing them, not to promote an album or to get cash in their pockets, but because they love the scene and because, more simply, they just love playing.