“There aren’t many bands that would have the confidence to just go for it and not really give a fuck if people like it or not,” says shock-haired guitarist Herb Magee of experimental Bangor outfit Volvograd. “That’s why I love this band, because there are no limits as to what we can do. I mean we might decide to make an album one day made up of twenty minutes of complete silence followed by a single ‘beep’. We’d really love it.”

“Yeah,” deadpans bassist James McCullough. “There’d probably be some people out there who have taken an awful lot of drugs over the years who would also really love it.”

Such is life in Volvograd – a heady mixture of bollocks-talking, unlikely strategic planning (a prog-rock musical!), and the kind of cosmonaut pop that can only be produced by fans of horror film soundtracks, Crosby, Stills and Nash and the theme tunes to computer games. And according to frontman Dave McCullough – brother of James – it’s going to take more than an invitation from Jamie Theakston to change their approach.

“Realistically the music we’re making is never going to appear on MTV. No matter how well it goes for us, we’re in no way the kind of band that’ll be asked on Top Of The Pops. But big deal. I much prefer bands that tour the world playing to 100 people who know every word of every song. I can’t think of anything worse than being confronted by ten thousand Travis fans who only want to hear the singles.”

It’s a nice attitude. But also a surprising one. This time last year Dave and James were still ploughing a resolutely indie furrow with local journeymen Flumox. Since calling time on their old band and (along with Herb, Chris Smith and Craig Kearney) forming Volvograd in January they’ve been following an altogether more snaking and interesting path – with splenetic vocals, odd keyboards and a generalised air of chaos even provoking some tentative comparisons to Devo. For Dave, the change in style, while seemingly radical, has also been relatively organic.

“Flumox finished because we were pretty crap for most of the time. I’m sure everyone would agree that there are more than enough guitar bands out there. But towards the end we were just doing strange things – like we played a few gigs that were completely improvised, which sounds wanky, but it was good. I think we were just looking for something to do that was a bit more interesting than bog-standard guitar rock.

“When Flumox started out we were doing some weird stuff. As it went on, though, somehow we found ourselves playing what we thought people wanted to hear. That’s not what we want to do. The good thing about Volvograd is that we’ve made a bit of room for ourselves where we can play whatever we want.”

So, it’s back to the beginning - making introductions and hoping to impress. Recorded material is thin on the ground – although there’s been label interest and a Fanning Session organised for later this month – and as such the band are relying on their frenetically inventive live shows to draw people’s attention. But there’s little in the way of desperation here. Volvograd seem happy with where they’re going and are looking forward to picking up some like-minded fellow travellers along the way.

“I don’t think any of us have any intention of plugging away playing small venues for the rest of our lives,” says Dave. “But if that’s the way it turns out, so be it. Personally, I’m not thinking that that would be crap, why bother? I love the music we make and I love playing it, so if we play a show in front of five people and one of them likes it then as far as I’m concerned I’d have had a great night.

“Yeah, it can be a complete slog but you have to do these gigs to try to convince people that you’re serious about it. You have to earn your reputation. And one thing we can do live is convince people that we love what we’re doing. If we play enough gigs, and if we’re as good as I think we are, then the rest will follow. I really believe that this is worth doing.”