Hailing from Chicago, four piece Madina Lake have seen the path to the very top of the music world cleared for them by acts like Korn and Limp Bizkit 15 years earlier. Metal bands with pop sensibilities have proved to be big business, with their records being bought not just by men in long leather coats, but by teenagers of both sexes. Look at Linkin Park, who, despite the disappearance of outsize jeans, turntables and crotch-grabbing rap sections, remain one of the biggest bands in the world.

Madina Lake are cut from the same cloth as Linkin Park, with each of their tracks being a fusion of soaring arena rock choruses, steel-plated metal riffs, lyrics that speak of alienation, dissolution and medicated escapism and mid-song breakdowns genetically engineered to create the biggest of mosh pits. It works too, especially on House of Cards, when there are so many flying bodies in view that it’s a wonder the whole venue doesn’t collapse from the structural tension. Musically, the band take their cue from every stadium rock band of the last 20 years, you can hear Metallica and Guns N Roses in their guitar sound, mid-nineties heavyweights like Incubus in the distortion they lay on so thickly, and more sensitive souls like Taking Back Sunday and Glassjaw in their lyrical delivery. Each track feels like a call to arms: they are grand in their intentions and all encompassing in their message, one of banding together even if no one else understands you. Here I Stand and Welcome to Oblivion, in particular, cause mayhem in the O2 Academy, with massive circle pits forming throughout. Madina Lake’s rabid fan base is fast expanding and will continue to do so. The challenge will be sustaining the ability to channel feelings of alienation and abandonment when the band is riding round in limos and selling millions of records. Not everyone will feel drawn to their rallying call, but those who do will find a band to be totally devoted to.