IT IS a truth universally acknowledged that... Hang on; I’m still in literature festival mode. Try again...

I think most know that tribute bands aren’t an immediate choice when it comes to my musical intake, but whilst I normally head for something a bit more exploratory and creative, I have to say that Limehouse Lizzy who grace the sage of The Victoria tonight really are worth checking out.

I’m lucky, I am old enough to have just caught the tail end of Thin Lizzy as a live band, but those of you who never did should at least catch this tribute to the glory days of one of the greatest rock bands to have graced this planet.

They have the musical chops, they have the banter nailed down, and they even have the look, well as near as damn it.

If you prefer something more in a singer-songwriter, solo acoustic sort of vein then head down to The Groves Company Inn for a musical slice of Drew Bryant, an expert at blending accessible music with some lush elemental imagery.

The result is infectious and joyful acoustic deliveries and the most interesting of narratives.

Things get a bit more tongue in cheek on Friday with John Otway and his band, who are heading to The Victoria.

Always an unpredictable show but it may include anything from parody to heartfelt balladry, human percussion to strange hybrid guitars, snatches of rock opera to a medley of his hit.

Whatever he decides to foist upon you, it will certainly be a blast.

In a late change of billing, at The Rolleston, the part of The Monkeydolls will now be played by The Hep Cat Trio.

So instead of a section of classic indie, rock and punk, expect roots, early rock ‘n’ roll, rockabilly and the like.

Those looking for a full on, rock and roll shot in the arm will find what they need at The Groves Company Inn courtesy of Saints of Sin and a blend of street rock, sleazy grooves, killer riffs, big hair and feet on the monitor swagger. For a couple of hours it is 1985 along The Sunset Strip again: clichés will be overplayed for all the right reasons and everyone will have a great time.

The Beehive, however, will be grooving to a more considered, chilled and smooth blues sound as The Foregate Street Blues Band wander through the mellower end of the genres back catalogue.

Three chunks of blistering rock are on the cards for Saturday. Firstly, at the most extreme end, is South-West Hardcore’s show at Level III.

Brutal beats, razor wire riffs and fist punching choruses are the order of the day courtesy of The Mausoleum Trap, Conspire, Erase The Rat and Riot at Monroe.

At The Tap and Barrel, Darren Hunt will deliver his high-energy set of not just classic rock but also more considered sounds such as Pink Floyd, The Beatles and even The Shadows.

At The Victoria, The Guns ‘n’ Roses Experience does what it says on the tin, an explosive, gritty and impressive live show and heralded (admittedly by their management) as the UK’s No.1 Guns ‘n’ Roses tribute band. I’m sure it will be great but don’t you just long for the day when a tribute band dropped the hyperbole and advertised themselves, say, as the third best tribute in the southern Home Counties region.

For those looking for some pre-owned tunes, dance floor fillers and party tunes, there is plenty on offer.

W.M.D and The Chocolate Candy Band both bring the function band experience to the pub circuit.

The former offer all genres and styles of contemporary music to the punters of The Ferndale, the latter a decidedly more vintage rock ‘n’ roll set to The Woodlands Edge.

It’s all about The Beatles with The Pre-Fab Four at The Rolleston, The Mantiques put their own spin on iconic tunes at The Locomotive and Zing! bring a bag of pop and rock to The Queens Tap.

The original teenage dirtbags, Wheatus, can be found at The Victoria on Tuesday, though they are best known for their debut single it may surprise many to know that since then they haven’t stopped writing, recording and performing. Finally, at The Tuppenny on Wednesday, Grant Sharkey is back in town armed with his trusty bass, some wonderfully opinionated songs plus a whole bag of silliness.