MASSED crowds, primarily dressed in black, eagerly gather at the Roundhouse for goth-rock pioneers The Sisters of Mercy and the audience’s expectation is testament to the band’s reputation, anthemic back catalogue and the rarity of their live shows.

[[{"fid":"16437","view_mode":"inlineright","fields":{"format":"inlineright","field_file_image_alt_text[und][0][value]":"Centre of attention: Andrew Eldritch Pic: Mendor","field_file_image_title_text[und][0][value]":false},"link_text":null,"type":"media","field_deltas":{"1":{"format":"inlineright","field_file_image_alt_text[und][0][value]":"Centre of attention: Andrew Eldritch Pic: Mendor","field_file_image_title_text[und][0][value]":false}},"attributes":{"alt":"Centre of attention: Andrew Eldritch Pic: Mendor","class":"media-element file-inlineright","data-delta":"1"}}]]This is the first of just two headline gigs in Britain this year and a cheer erupts as the house lights dip, dry ice envelops the stage and the  monotonous, repetitive beat of a drum machine booms starkly.

The bass kicks in, a gothy guitar trips over the top and out of the fog emerges lead singer, original surviving member and curmudgeon-in-chief Andrew Eldritch.