Last time Black Mountain were set to play a headline show in Glasgow, illness forced the band to cancel. Thankfully their long overdue return, in support of third album Wilderness Heart, was well worth the two-and-a-half year wait.

The band’s brand of psychedelic heavy rock proved totally mesmerising throughout what was an epic set, but no more so than on the darkly blissed-out Wucan.

With its hypnotic hook, steady groove and effortless flow it made for an entrancing five minutes. It was a trick they repeated time and time again, drawing the crowd further and further into their ethereal world.

Despite sound issues and vocals which fell flat, Stormy High was another stand-out track while of the new material aired, Wilderness Heart was the pick of the bunch.

Although well past the scheduled running time the Canadian quintet returned for an encore and lucky for us they did. An extended, spaced-out rendition of Druganaut proved impossible to resist, the song’s slow-mo riff, infectious drums and drawn-out instrumental sections worked their magic on a crowd eager to make up for lost time and show their appreciation for one of the best live bands currently plying their trade.

Using an 80s hair metal band’s lifetime allocation of smoke, moody lighting and the odd impressive burst of lasers to not only create atmosphere befitting Fever Ray’s dark, mysterious and distinctly Scandinavian electronic music, but also to obscure a clear view of just what was going on on stage, may have lent a certain mystic to tonight’s proceedings but as the night wore on and the music deviated from the sublime to the plodding, it was a show which overall flattered to deceive.

The lack of an encore wasn’t a disappointment but the evening as a whole most definitely was as, aside from poor sound, once the novelty of the masked band’s theatrics and singer Karin Dreijer Andersson’s elaborate outfit had been revealed – think a black Whizbit costume with giant black-and-white-checked oven gloves for ears – it was a case of waiting for something to happen.

Something dark and magical did happen during the sublime When I Grow Up, Triangle Walks and Seven, but for much of the rest the anticipation that surrounded tonight’s gig never resulted in a fitting pay-off.

As gig experiences go tonight’s performance was something just a little bit special, a little bit out of the ordinary, but then what else do you expect from the driving force behind sonic pioneers Sigur Rós.

In a regular show the visual aspect usually seems like an afterthought – lights flash, random videos are projected but nothing ties them to the performance. How refreshing it was then tonight to bear witness to a set where the marriage of music and the visual element not only augmented the overall experience, but ultimately made it.

Jónsi, with the help of his multi-instrumental backing band, didn’t have to make concessions to the crowd either – it was ten songs in before the singer shyly said “hi” – instead dark sprawling soundscapes peppered with his distinctive falsetto vocals took the crowd on a journey, leaving them speechless in the process – for over 20 seconds during one extended mid-song break.

Save for the odd deviation into Euro-pop territory it was a truly captivating show and one which climaxed majestically with bewitching final number Grow Till Tall.

Whether all-girl four-piece The Like – the latest act to be given the Mark Ronson treatment – will make any significant inroads into the mainstream consciousness on the back of their second record, the Ronson-produced Release Me, seems unlikely on tonight’s evidence.

Entertaining and full of energy they may have been, but save for a few tracks it was to be a fairly routine display. Punky 60s pop in places, generic punk pop in others, it was a mixed bag of a set which occasionally sparked into life but overall lacked consistency.

The more inventive He’s Not A Boy was an early highlight as was Narcissus In A Red Dress but easily the quartet’s best moment came courtesy of Trouble In Paradise, a song that, should 007 become Jasmine Bond, would provide the perfect theme.

However a reliance on quick-fire and often overly derivative numbers, in the case of Release Me it was an uncanny resemblance to Belle & Sebastian’s the Track Of Track And Field, overall made it hard to love The Like.