Groups of good time boys and girls, musicians and renegades, vampires and vagabonds throughout the country are rooted in the same, unenviable and rudimentary limbo, frantically scheming, delicately lock-picking and audaciously plotting for the next strike for gold.

Dexters have the master keys to that lock. They stole, or in fact borrowed them from the caretaker of a ramshackle school for young tearaways and juvenile delinquents in the rough part of East London they grew up in, a place that feels a million miles from the chattering of the yuppified Hoxton bars just around the corner.

This is their place, their zone and their territory, where they incessantly hammer for gold. Dexters get their guitars out, plug them in, slide the benches away and play to a hall full of their eagerly anticipating mates. The stage, usually set for the morning assembly, transforms into Dexters’ all conquering platform, where they’ve been crafting their sound and readying their repertoire to be unleashed.

As a band, Dexters draw on a range of sounds and influences you wouldn’t necessarily associate with a young, blue collar band, formed in 2011. Captain Beefheart and Robert Johnson are name checked, while more contemporary influences can also be seen in songs like ‘Conscience Calls’ - which tips its hat to Jamie T - and their superb, flagship tune ‘Start To Run’, a song in homage to losing touch with an old friend, which has a pulsating, breakneck urgency in the style of a bastard child spawned from a threesome with the clash, Jamie T, and The Jam after a debauched night of cocktails and high octane fun.