There is a scene in Ken Loach’s latest film The Wind That Shakes the Barley in which two brothers fighting for the IRA

There is a scene in Ken Loach’s latest film, The Wind That Shakes the Barley, in which two brothers fighting for the IRA discuss the overwhelming numerical superiority of the British Army. One says to the other: “So what are you going to do? Take on the British Empire with a hurley stick – stun the bastards one by one?” It is a fitting line from a director who was yesterday celebrating the highest accolade yet for 40 years of concussing audiences with grim portrayals of the iniquities of empire, political power and poverty. The pace ranges from the pounding “Technicolor” to the rousing “El Justiciero” and the dislocated rhythms of “Don Quixote”. Caetano Veloso’s “Baby”, with its trippy, tripping time changes andDuncan’s moody vocal, shows an epic, theatrical grasp of sound.Returning as cult heroes – folk heroes – after decades of obscurity, their back catalogue is in print again, several camera crews abound, and there is talk of a world tour. They could have got away with playing it twice.After some lengthy technical delays, Os Mutantes come on to a hero’s welcome.

The original singer Rita Lee is absent, but the Baptista brothers and Zelia Duncan are superb.The songs have some delicious harmonies and effects. The artist Biljana Tutorov provides a running video commentary, while the contrast between Vedran Peternel’s mixing and sampling,and violinist Isabel’s dramatic playing, adds a bracing air of immediacy.
The mercurial and laconic frontman Darko Rundek, singing in several languages, keeps the audience in high spirits and on its toes.His minimal guitar playing complements Djani Pervan’s brilliant drumming or Isabel’s far-reaching violin.Led by Moreno Veloso and producer Kassim, Rio’s Orquestra Imperial, with their four vocalists, two guitars, brass, keyboards and six drummers, play samba in the spirit of Tropicalia with a love for the history and roots of Brazilian music.An unlikely choice of Yes’s “Owner of a Lonely Heart” swings the orquestra into a rockier sound, and after an overlong first set, the second half’s live recreation of Tropicalia’s first album, Tropicalia ou Panis et Circensis, is a sublime delight. The semi-acoustic, jazzy space music of Cargo Orkestar, who were formed in Paris from a largely exiled Eastern European diaspora, showcases here the new CD, Mhm A-Ha Oh Yeah Da-Da. Songs almost meander into being from seemingly chance collisions between instruments

There is a strong sense of theatre. Most successful was the hit single “Sugar, We’re Going Down”, with its slabs of industrial sound crowbarred into a three-minute pop structure.

“The Music Or The Misery” suggested the band were becoming less fidgety. It was very slick, but with constant calls to join the Fall Out Boy “family”, you wondered if this would be a lasting commitment or a short-term fling.Civic Hall, Wolverhampton (01902 552121), tonight. He boasts the biggest set of lungs since the glory days of David Coverdale but was unable to add enough character to differentiate between Wentz’s two types of song. Wentz writes so densely that the vocalist struggled to fit in the words.Their only chance to make an impact was to cram in enough musical tics to suggest attention-deficit disorder, as sudden changes of pace and rapid fills instead of solos kept us on edge. To top it all, Fall Out Boy are mates with Jay-Z.The band emerged to the sound of Bon Jovi’s “Living On A Prayer”, an odd choice. Wentz and guitarist Joe Trohman, at least, constantly urged the crowd to participate, when they were not attempting to outdo each other in risky leaps over podiums and steps.

The singer, Patrick Stump, meanwhile, hidden under a tightly worn trucker’s cap, kept himself busy by playing the more complex guitar patterns and unleashing his extraordinary voice. No matter how much they spun round, pogoed or jumped off speaker stacks, the latest heroes of parental-guidance punk showed a distinct lack of drama. Perhaps they had too much to say: the Chicago outfit have become mainstream pin-ups thanks to an audacious fusion of emo-rock’s searing honesty and the pop sensibility of Green Day.
Also mixed in was a smidgen of straight-edged fundamentalism (no drugs or booze for three members), alongside a set of emotional problems topped by bassist Pete Wentz’s overdose on prescribed meds for anxiety attacks. Given his particularly cute looks, and as their heart-on-sleeve spokesman, Wentz is central to Fall Out Boy’s vilification by the hardcore fraternity. Bright and articulate, the college-educated lyricist also plays the role of entrepreneur, with his own clothing range plus a record label that has unleashed the more rhythm-based band Panic! At The Disco as well as The Hush Sound’s folk-based style. Had they closed the show at that moment, however, the crowd should not have felt short-changed..