It isn’t too often that a band, particularly a rock band, will play Edinburgh’s most prestigious small venue upon releasing their third LP. But then The Boxer Rebellion have experienced neither the MySpace generation’s rapid rise, nor the slow burning ascent of the old school; theirs is a tale of resilience, a poignant reinforcement of their moniker.

Left out in the cold by the collapse of Alan McGee’s Poptones label in 2007, the multinational four piece have remained unsigned ever since, day-job funding the production and release of 2009’s Union and February’s The Cold Still amidst economically brutal touring. This is not their first time at Cab Vol. Indeed their last visit ended, according to tonight’s sole anecdote, with the band van clapped out on the Royal Mile.

And so a rare challenge confronts them as an opening gambit of new numbers leaves the cast of apparently fair-weather fans unmoved, the applause dying quick enough to make impatient and inebriated heckled requests for older songs awkwardly audible. “Don’t you like our new stuff?” asks Tennessean frontman, Nathan Nicholson, through a guarded grin. The reply is immediate – “No!’’

It’s not hard to understand why pragmatic A&R men may not see cartoon dollar signs circling The Boxer Rebellion. Nicholson’s daytime telly good looks are not enough to balance those of guitarist, Todd Howe and drummer, Piers Hewitt. Aesthetically disparate they may be, their sophomore LP was not flippantly named Union, and these four mould a classic guitar band model into an idiosyncratic sound, an identity that defies their confidence-crushing career.

There are, however, moments when consistency flirts dangerously with monotony. Equipment set staunchly to arena mode pacifies the otherwise undeniable Evacuate, which considering the claustrophobic environment, could use a bit more bite to its expansive, reverbing bark. But Spitting Fire turns these losses into gains, sparking into a gear the audience had begun to assume they did not possess. Watermelon, a favourite from their debut, has an edge towards which they should veer more often; Nicholson’s usually immaculate vocal reaping the rare rewards of its more visceral side, and Howe finally turning from simple guitarist into the axe-man he clearly wishes to be. Any sane music enthusiast should will The Boxer Rebellion to success. Their middle-man-less existence is testament to the democratic possibilities of the industry in a digital age. Voice your opinion but, please, don’t heckle it.

3/5