'The new gothic hordes: a fresh surge of smart, dark upstarts are currently raging through the capital's East End.' That NME have noticed the exciting sounds coming out of Shoreditch and Whitechapel can be seen as a blessing and a curse. Although the writer, Camilla Pia of Hoxton's Ghost School night, might have roped in some dubious names (Dance Magic Dance? Fables? 'New grave'?), her intent was spot-on: the East End movement has been growing steadily for eighteen months, and as of yet precious few media outlets have pointed it out.

Media attention in itself isn't important; the movement can survive on its own merits. What was refreshing about the NME article was that it tied together the cultural trend as a whole, and saw it as what it is: an intensely exciting music scene. Most bands seem shy away from classification, as though claiming common ground with any other musical act is some act of unforgiveable gaucheness: that irritatingly frequent interview line 'we don't really see ourselves as part of a scene' keeps raising its clichéd head. It's understandable on one level, since affiliation can too easily lead to pigeonholing or cut-and-dried genre labels, but the 'scene = genre' assumption isn't something that any band should need to be worried about in an atmosphere where any club night could feature bands playing indie pop, industrial beats, psychedelic freakbeat, gothic post-punk, or all of the above and more.

What is needed is more acknowledgement that there is something genuinely exciting happening right now in London; that bands are forming monthly and club nights are multiplying amœba-like; that promoters are struggling to keep up with the constant flow of talent and collaboration; that there is at least one truly great show to go to almost every week. People simply need to open their eyes and ears to what is going on every day, and to actively promote the present rather than burying your head in the revered past. (There's something rather sad about watching a band, without a trace of irony, rejecting history by invoking a manifesto from 1909.) DJs in particular should take note to play the new songs as well as the old ones; it shouldn't make you a social pariah to put KASMs on instead of Bauhaus just this once (although both would be nice).

Instead of ignoring the scene, or pretending there isn't one, or claiming it to have links only with the past, wouldn't it be nice to appreciate it while it's around? Instead of leaving relative outsiders to make clumsy generalisations, wouldn't it be better for the artists themselves to pinpoint their artistic aims? Too much self-regard can be a bad thing: the 1990s 'Scene That Celebrates Itself' is now remembered for little more than the ironic journalistic name. But to be too detached, to be 'The Scene That Ignores Itself', is worse still.