Tim Hughes need a time machine to catch the wealth of talent on offer at The Oxford Punt

There are so many great things about living in Oxford it is all too easy to get a bit smug – or, worse, take it for granted.

A prime example is the Oxford Punt. This freewheeling celebration of new and, crucially, local, music organised by Nightshift editor Ronan Munro is practically unique. Sure Camden has it’s Crawl and Brighton it’s Great Escape, but they lack the Punt’s exclusive focus on local music.

The concept is simple - select 20 bands (from a long list of more than 100 applications) and stick them on stage in a clutch of city centre venues within walking distance of each other. ‘Punters’ can then wander around ‘taking a punt’ on acts they have perhaps heard of but have been unable to see. It’s a brilliant idea, which is why it has continued to be among the best-loved nights in oxford’s cultural calendar.

Last week saw hundreds of music-lovers gathering in five for the 16th Punt. And a glance at the line-up revealed it was a steller bill of new and not-so-new faces. The only problem was how to catch a score of bands inthe space of just five hours. There were some truly horrendous clashes. Even before I started, I knew I was going to miss most of it - at one point four of my favourite bands were playing at the same time at venues as far afield as the Purple Turtle and The Duke’s Cut. Clearly this was a night which called for tough decisions and nifty footwork.

Among the must-see sets was that by Candy Says in the Purple Turtle. The show was the band’s Punt debut since transforming from Little Fish, who played a legendary packed-out Punt set at Thirst Lodge in 2008. And it couldn’t have been more different.

Gone are the power chords, sweat and shouting, and in its place a light and spacious set of sexy art-pop. Juju, keys man Ben Walker, singer and percussionist Elisa Zoot and drummer Mike Monaghan carry themselves like cool Sorbonne intellectuals on a break from the barricades of the Latin Quarter (c1968), and delight with a joyous set of dream-pop enlivened with cymbal clashes, hand claps, pregnant pauses and, in the case of juicy new single Favourite Flavour, a chorus so catchy it could hook a whale.

Over too soon it’s time to move on. And next door, in The Cellar, is the polar opposite to Candy Says – the ear-splitting metal band Agness Pike, with a set so loud I fear the ceiling might cave in.

But this is not just noise. Frontman Martin Spear, dapper in a fake moustache and Argyle tank top with a Hula Hoop packet pinned to it, intersperses esoteric lyrics with readings from a book he clutches throughout the set.

There is less brutal, but equally engaging noise to follow courtesy of powerful hip-hop act Death of Hi-Fi; the masked maestros deftly chucking out beats, bleeps and doomy electronica. Back at the PT Mother Corona are stripping paint with deafening scuzzy rock and epic riffs.

It’s good; very good, but I’m more interested in the next band – Nairobi. Pete Hughes’s math-Afro (‘Mafro’?) four-piece come across like a laddish Vampire Weekend, with Pete’s shouty vocals and the band’s contagious riffs, Afro guitar tickles and punchy rhythms driving home dancey dollops of indie-rock. Standing still is not an option.

Alas, there was no time to catch the hotly tipped The August List (though word from the Duke’s Cut was that they were “quite awesome”) but huge fun to be had at The Wheatsheaf where The Goggenheim left the crowd stunned, dazed and grinning with a spiky set of bonkers mind-warping space-jazz, art-rock and vocal acrobatics – beautiful frontwoman Grace resplendent in a kimono and vivid eyeshadow staring wide-eyed into the crowd while shrieking nonsense about moths, in front of her four-piece band, dressed identically in striped tanktops, trilbies and glasses. Brilliant.

As ever, Punt proved to be nothing if not eclectic. If only we could plead Ronan to do one every month...