If you’ve ever searched for the top ‘must-do’ things in Sheffield, you will have come across its beloved Paternoster elevator – an endless rotation of carriages moving between the floors of the University’s Arts Tower. But the historic landmark isn’t the only way to experience the heights of all that can be discovered in the Steel City. Taking over the Moor Market end of town, this year’s inaugural Float Along all-day event hosted by live music promoters Strange Days, offered its own non-stop line-up of performance and conversation. Alongside Katy J Pearson, W.H.Lung, Warmduscher, Los Bitchos, Strawberry Guy and Steve Lamacq, here are eight emerging musical highlights from around the UK whose sets marked them out as well-worth hopping onto…

NOON GARDEN @ Sidney & Matilda

Keeping his cool, Charles Prest is in his element. With the bunting lining the tiny basement stage the only protection between the former Flamingods member and the early birds who are piling into the space to catch a glimpse of one of the festival’s opening acts (think the classic shrinking room scene in the original Charlie & The Chocolate Factory), his eyes are closed to block out any distraction whilst delivering poetic rhyming couplets and wah guitar dances about the clicks from his side-kick drum machine. Meandering through a set of glitchy patterns and cosmic nu-psych, the vibe floats along with the positive wisdom and mellow surf of a one-man Tame Impala.

ALICE LOW @ Record Junkee

Alice Low is stalling. “This is the bit I hate,” she says hesitantly with a wry smile whilst introducing the final number of her set, “it’s 15 minutes long.” Wiping strands of blonde hair away from the microphone, there is a momentary pause for breath before the acoustic guitar recording of ‘Ladydaddy’ signals the start of her swan song. A cowboy porch song duet in one, she prowls the stage witch-like, wrapped in a raven-hued satin slip and no stranger to transition, gleefully moves from falsetto to dog barks as each vocal character is brought to life like a fairy-tale delivered by Adam Green and Alex Cameron. Elsewhere squelchy toytown pop meets haunting John Maus style echo via Sparks-like artful delivery as she proudly wears lyrical meaning on bare shoulders; singing about life as it exists with little room for interpretation. Moving through the crowd Alice appears to make a grand exit, and chest up strides towards the back of the room until reappearing as a ghostly apparition, grabbing an innocent lamp from the merch stand and upturning it under her chin to emphasise the skeletal shadows of a Van Gogh Scream face grimace. “My parents are proud of me,” Alice smirks, during the set. The audience response? Woops of delight. Them too.

REGRESSIVE LEFT @ Record Junkee

Everything about Regressive Left suggests they want to make you dance. A trio apparently beamed in from another space and time but performing with the kind of jarring contemporary squall Squid might serve up for snacks, their Northern Soul V-neck sweaters and wide leg pants are perfectly suited to their knee-jerking LCD Soundsystem grooves and vocal acrobatics. Performing their first Sheffield show since recording the fittingly titled Wrong Side of History EP with producer Ross Orton (Working Mens Club, Fat White Family), singer Simon‘s 80s pop croon (think the unaffected lament of Talk Talk’s Mark Hollis) is complemented by the calls of drummer Georgia and between wobbly SFX he upturns the microphone stand mere inches from taking out the ceiling lights to knock the ball out of the dark.

O. @ Network

Ostentatious. Ominous. Out there. Whatever their name stands for, this duo is anything but Ordinary. With the raw power of a jazzed up White Stripes, both room and chests rumble to every beat as drummer Tash Keary whips up the thunder for the storm of grimy low squelches from her bandmate Joe Henwood’s earthy Baritone Sax. Panel capped with sax straps, like a python charming Super Mario in trouser braces, his blasts are manipulated with the force to tear a gateway to hell and heave fuel onto an incendiary mix of avant-garde metal, worldly techno and minimalism. Whilst initially appearing to be the role reversal of New Zealand duo Party Dozen who cause revellers to dance with free spirit, O. are a heftier beast. “It’s quality, not quantity,” Joe insists to the select audience of head-nodders, alluding to the crowd-size when really, it could just as easily be a sign for things to come.

YOUTH SECTOR @ Record Junkee

Proving silly and serious can work simultaneously, Youth Sector are sewing up – like the tacked stitches of their DEVO matchy-matchy triangle-collared seventies untailored suits – impeccably tight stomping disco-funk threads where Talking Heads, The Vapors, and OK Go meet. As synth player Harvey wiggles on an invisible surfboard, lead singer Nick’s eyes dart back and forth between the ceiling and stage sidelines before ending the song with a “Thangyouverymuch” in pseudo-American accent. Between numerous name drops (fine when it’s your own band name), the punchy 5-piece deliver angular breakneck stompers from their EP Adult Contemporary with enough rubber-band bounce to displace the paint from the venue’s black box –  the Maximo Park punch of ‘Is Blood’ being a tearaway highlight before Nick introduces a new song with a few choice words of wisdom; “Life is a hill were all rolling down,” he declares.

SALOON DION @ Record Junkee

It’s tricky for shouty bands from Bristol to prove themselves these days but Saloon Dion pays no mind to the Idles effect and with a defiant boot resting on the stage monitor, singer Dave Sturgess and co are marking the 5-piece’s way as one of Bristol’s latest bands whose bark is worse than their bite. With shared duties of front person, the band spit through Pistols punk and ferocious funk, but not until they’ve learned the names “of all 6 of you” in the audience before them – apart from pal Katy J Pearson and crew who have shown up to offer their support. But whilst the rest of Sheffield have gathered to watch the evening’s headliners elsewhere, their loss is this small audience’s gain with an explosive set of tension release, marked by drummer-turned pirate for the night, Ben Molyneux’s spontaneous instruction, “Everyone say ‘arggghh.’” Beyond their beanies, Saloon Dion’s set nestles stomping start-stoppers where instrumentals abruptly halt and make way for angsty calls to arms.

FAKE TURINS @ Sidney & Matilda

With the dramatic fusion of a psychedelic David Attenborough documentary soundtrack, it’s impossible to know where to look as this 11-piece collective cram themselves and their idiosyncratic mix of sax, clarinet, drums, guitar, floor tom, synths, and the kitchen sink – not to mention countless wires snaking about the floor – onto the stage of this small basement. The speakers appear to have sprouted fingers which dance about a synth like Thing Addams on hot keys whilst an invisible force at the back of the stage wields the neck of a guitar in and out of the darkness. Suited and booted in marshmallow-pink, to lead their own eclectic pick ’n’ mix, singer Dominic heads up the cacophony with a lounging mix of James Murphy falsetto and downbeat spoken word, complimenting the percussive session rhythms and funk grooves for a surprisingly coherent collection of sounds.

EADES @ Record Junkee

“I don’t know where to breathe in that song,” confesses Eades’ singer and guitarist, Harry, having removed his yellow gilet in preparation for hurtling through the band’s high-octane new track ‘Liquid Gold.’ Whilst their cap and dungarees would suggest end-of-shift antics after working at their local auto repair shop, what the Leeds 5-piece have truly been working up is a sweat as they race their way through 100 mph jagged garage-rock stompers. With a penchant for the raw crunch of Parquet Courts’ angular momentum and joyfully switching positions like The Strokes’ scamp-like younger cousins, eventually one microphone gives way under the vibrations, forcing singers Harry and Tom to move towards each other Libertines style around one mic. Earlier stage pals Saloon Dion and friends who are bouncing around before them swiftly come to rescue and prop it back up. Controlled chaos that only occasionally comes up for air.