When one of Music Towers’ cohorts, Dene Mullen, went off gallivanting around the Far East, the last thing he expected to find was the punk rock soul of Communist China in a back room in Beijing.

In a city of over 15 million people, it can be difficult to spot an individual. There are certainly no pre-determined areas where the scenesters hang out, like Shoreditch or Camden in London. No, if you manage to spot one of Beijing’s eclectic youth, normally decked out in the pre-requisite black skinny jeans and snug t-shirt, it tends to be entirely serendipitous. Those there are haven’t quite cottoned onto that London mindset that anything too mainstream is totally uncool, as probably the largest collection of Beijing indie kids is to be found on Wangfujing Dajie; what seems to be the Chinese capital’s Regent Street and Piccadilly Circus rolled into one.

The fact that so many Chinese youngsters are hell-bent on learning English makes it reasonably simple to eventually secure a ticket to the hottest gig in town. On Thursday night I will see Tiger Leaping play at The Candy Club; a tiny 350 capacity venue in the Xicheng district of Beijing. I find out later that the band are named after the biggest canyon in China, and one of its greatest natural wonders, which is in danger of disappearing if the government press ahead with plans to build eight new dams along the upper reaches of the Yangzi River.

Their opening song screeches out of the sound system and delivers a punk-drenched sucker punch - this is disaffected youth, Beijing-style. In this exotic land of deep-fried scorpions and constant expulsion of phlegm, it is one of the first things I’ve come across which is not so different from home. The singer’s permanent scowl, and his mannerisms and vocal style make it clear that Leaping Tiger’s main points of reference are the Sex Pistols, and The Clash circa Tommy Gun.

Of course, to a ‘Lăowài’ (the Chinese term for Westerner, often muttered amongst the locals as I walk the streets) who is only just learning how to say ‘Thank You’ in Mandarin, the lyrics are largely unintelligible. This is obviously a great shame but still doesn’t detract from the vibrancy of the performance and the sonic blast emanating from the stage.