Another day, another Moose Blood gig. Yes please.

In September, Moose Blood had announced a UK tour during which they would play their absolutely wonderful, yet perfectly heartbreaking, debut album, I'll Keep You In Mind, From Time To Time, in its entirety. Being massively in love with the record, I wanted to go, but couldn't find a show I could attend.

In November, whilst I wasn't exactly sober in Sticky Mike's, a club in Brighton, I started talking to the cloakroom guy who said Moose Blood would be playing my new hometown in December, following their tour with Lower Than Atlantis. Seeing as nothing was happening or being announced, I thought he'd lied to me and was, in true emo fashion, absolutely devastated.

Mid-December, the Lower Than Atlantis tour is almost finished and there is no sign of Moose Blood playing anything else - until my beloved Banquet Records came along and announced the Canterbury outfit would play their indie club night, New Slang, on the 17th. No, it's not in Brighton. Yes, it's a bit of a trek from Brighton to Kingston Upon Thames. But watch me go and listen to one of my new favourite albums being played front to back. Watch me.

The venue is pretty much empty when I get there and I decide to stay at the front. I know the crowd might get a bit rowdy, but my brother has brought me what I'd call the "fancy" camera and the Hippodrome is one of these places where I can freely use it. I couldn't have a better spot in the building. 

After a thirty minute wait soundtracked by the likes of Shaking in the Water by The Xcerts, local band Losing Sleep start a great support set. Their music, which reminded me of Brand New, Your Favourite Weapon era (which is, by all means, a huge compliment), is appreciated by the crowd which increasingly grows. It's a quiet and polite appreciation for the outfit, but it is well deserved - they are energetic, enthusiastic and they sound very professional for such a young band. Dear Losing Sleep, well done you and you've got yourself a new fan here. Everyone else, you know what to do.

By the time Moose Blood grace the stage of the Hippodrome with their presence, the venue is packed. As soon as vocalist Eddy Brewerton utters the first words of the album's opening track, Cherry, a sweet, sensitive number dedicated to his step daughter, the entire crowd sings them back at him, and this will not stop until the very end. The singalongs are simply deafening (and yours truly here probably deafened a few people around her).

A live performance of a full album is a great occasion for a fan to hear songs a band rarely plays on regular sets, and for me, that one special track is Anyway. For a reason I ignored, it had always resonated with me, and after having a look around the Internet and finding out it was about Eddy's mother, I understood - the lyrics remind me of my own mother. The words "Even though you listen to the radio so quietly and talk all the way through, I'd still sing songs on the motorway with you any day, anyway" are my childhood and my Sunday mornings singing old French pop songs in the car with my mum, and finally hearing those words sung live and sung back by several hundred people hit home hard. VERY hard. And I needed it.

In a less emotional fashion, I feel a live performance of an album in its entirety makes you see all of its intricacies under a different light, makes you discover new things about it, makes you realise how well-rounded it is (or not). This show made me realise, as if it was needed, how much of a masterpiece I'll Keep You In Mind, From Time To Time, is. There are no other words, really. It is so brave yet fragile, so heartfelt, so personal yet universal, so relatable. It is everything you would want from an album and more, and its live rendition highlights all of these qualities. It is helped, of course, by how talented the four musicians are. I appreciate a band that sounds like a CD live, because there's no lie in the machinery. It's all honesty. It's all true. The talent you hear in the studio recording is not leading you on. The band is on stage, and they are just as talented, if not more, as you'd built them up to be in your head. That's one of the best things a band can give to you.

Frontman Eddy Brewerton isn't one for big words and long speeches and he says so himself. Yet, the massive smile on his face when the entire crowd shouts the "Smile like you do" line in Gum says more than words ever would. This band, these four young guys, they might not do speeches, but it's so obvious they are genuinely happy to see a couple of hundred people crammed in front of a tiny stage and singing their lyrics back at them, crowdsurfing on top of one another, dancing, crying, living their music. It's so obvious.

From the opening notes of Cherry to the closing ones of I Hope You're Miserable, including the now classic Bukowski or the barely played Kelly Kapowski, this show was a beautiful moment shared between the band and their audience, who all seemed as one during the entirety of the performance. For the band, it was the last show of the year and a celebration of how incredible 2015 has been for them. For me, it was seeing one of my favourite bands perfectly playing a wonderful album and realising that they truly are one of the best things that happened to me this year. They entered my life mostly because my friend Laura is a massive fan, and they are something I share with several of my friends. They have been the soundtrack to the best year of my life and their music hit home, made me happy, comforted me, kept me company, and for that I'm incredibly grateful. Here's to 2016 and a sophomore album. I cannot wait.

PS : If that's any surprising to anyone, I started sobbing at the beginning of Cherry, carried on all through Anyway, probably scared a couple of people around me, didn't stop crying for the whole thing and went back to the sob fest at the end of I Hope You're Miserable. I didn't choose the emo life, the emo life chose me.