In case the plethora of predictably ham-fisted BBC documentaries and throwaway newspaper inserts somehow haven’t reached you, you should probably be aware that this year marks the centenary of the outbreak of the First World War. And to mark the occasion, theatre companies nationwide have been producing shows that use the war as a central motif, either by directly placing events between 1914 and 1918, or by examining the social fallout that inevitably accompanies war.

Despite undeniably good intentions, however, the abundance of these, for want of a better word, ‘commemorative’ plays is beginning to threaten tedium. That war is a fundamentally thought-provoking topic is undeniable; one only has to think of the eternally arresting poetry of Wilfred Owen or Siegfried Sassoon. Yet the predictable, hackneyed nature of the themes that characterise the majority of these plays is similarly patent and, as a device, they seem altogether too obvious a route to the hearts of an audience.

Earlier this year, I saw An August Bank Holiday Lark at the Oxford Playhouse. Set in the fictional village of Greenmill, Deborah McAndrew’s play focuses on the idyllic country life of the early Twentieth Century and its slow demise as a result of the First World War. All the expected characters were present: two young lovers ripped apart by conscription, an elderly father bereft of his two sons, an eager young man deemed unfit for service. I enjoyed the play; it was well-scripted, well-directed and well-acted, but I was left with an immovable anxiety that I had not been as moved as I should have been.

For this, the blame can be partially laid at the door of the media. The bombardment of documentaries, dramas and discussions has rendered me somewhat unable to appreciate the tragedy. There is a genuine danger of desensitisation, of a collective dulling of our perception of the profundity of war through sheer familiarity with it. But this familiarity is also the fault of our theatres.

In the coming weeks, no less than four separate shows about WW1 are being performed in Oxford, including an adaptation of Pat Barker’s Regeneration, which arrives at the OP in 6th week. For the dramatist, war presents situations in which emotion is easily contrived: the loneliness of a young bride awaiting her husband’s return, the fear of a recruit heading to the front-line for the first time, the sorrow of a parent confronted with news of their fallen son. Yet, on stage, are these feelings as perennially profound as we are repeatedly told? “Moving”, “compassionate”, “poignant” boast the posters, but isn’t the proliferation of such productions the very antithesis of such claims? Can these productions, sharing similar themes, similar relationships, similar characters, all be emotionally stirring?

Quality does not always ensure such an outcome, as proved by An August Bank Holiday Lark, a commendable play, in most respects, that I enjoyed seeing but was not deeply moved by. The truth is that in such a climate of commemoration, it is originality that ensures a play has a strong emotional impact on the audience.

In June, I saw a dramatisation of Joseph Heller’s Catch-22, also at the OP. Yes, it is set in the time of the Second World War but the same, or similar, rules should apply. As a play, the lack of centrality, a fundamental component of the novel, ensures that the audience is never fully immersed. As an eyeglass into the harrowing trauma of conflict, however, its fervent unpredictability rendered it surprisingly touching.

It is the revelation of a new perspective on well-worn stories that truly engages an audience. It is the inclusion of an unusual character or an alternative opinion. These are devices that break fresh ground. They circumvent the prism of mass-media opinions, blow away the haze of familiarity and promote tangible insight into the tragedy. And they are much needed in First World War drama, lest we forget.

Oxford is well known for being a birthplace of musical talent. Radiohead, Supergrass and Foals all had humble beginnings playing gigs in the city’s many bars and clubs. Not surprisingly, many have tried to follow in their footsteps, using the lively gigging culture to try and make their mark.

One such group is Northeast Corridor. A four-piece band made up of three music students and a chemist, they have already had much success at home and abroad. Since their debut in June they have been gigging up and down the country, have played Oxford’s O2 Academy and have even been picked up by BBC Introducing.

Perhaps the key to this success is the band’s keenness to confront issues that matter to them. When lead singer Nick Hampson found out about protests in the United States about a homophobic message posted on a church sign in Haarlem, NYC, he teamed up with a New York charity to see how he could help.

The result was the band’s debut single and music video, written in memory of Ali Forney, a transgender youth who was killed on the streets of New York in 1997. As Nick explains, “We came up with this idea of creating a music video which could raise awareness of the fight for survival that all these boys face everyday… it was an attempt to capture something completely unfathomable.”

‘Where You’re Sleeping Tonight’ is low-key, melancholic and soulful, the lead vocals floating effortlessly over the guitar accompaniment. The video itself is visually striking, an abstract collection of images depicting life on the streets of Haarlem. The two combine to produce an experience that is mellow, soporific, but deeply moving.

Northeast Corridor consists of lead singer Nick Hampson, bass guitarist Harry Davidson, lead guitarist Tom Stafford (he occasionally plays a modular synthesiser) and drummer Nick Orr. “Every time we play we learn more about each other as people and musicians,” says Nick. “So long as that continues I think our music should continue to develop and hopefully never stop changing.”

The band’s musical influences are certainly diverse. Harry cites jazz fusion artists such as Snarky Puppy’s Michael League among his bass-playing heroes, and Tom talks of a love of hip hop artists such as Wu Tang Clan, Odd Future, and Death Grips. The band’s live sets are full of musical surprises, ultimately lending them a Muse-like vibe. As Nick puts it, “We try and make music which goes to places you don’t always expect… our show certainly isn’t quiet!”

I ask them if there are any plans for an EP at some point in the future. Nick answers conservatively, “I think we will continue releasing individual tracks rather than doing an EP or an album in the near future. We are still in a way figuring out what we are and who we are as artists. What is most important to us is being fully in love with each thing that we release.”

The band’s classical training plays an important role for them. Nick was a cathedral chorister from a young age, Harry played the bassoon in the National Youth Orchestra, and Tom is an enthusiastic contemporary-classical composer.

“Our backgrounds as classical musicians are a unique influence on the way we write rock songs,” explains Nick. “Some of our favourite bands, like Radiohead, for example, use the complexities and subtleties of classical music to an incredible advantage in rock music and that is definitely something that we are trying to develop in our own work.”

So is there enough dialogue between classical music and rock genres? “Perhaps that’s too big a question to answer,” evades Nick. “Good music is good music to me. I don’t really care what people call it or class it as. If it rocks, then it rocks.”

This attitude will surely stand Northeast Corridor in good stead as their career gets off the ground. With a BBC Introducing gig in Reading, appearances in London, and an Oxford Festival appearance on the cards, we may be seeing a lot more of them over the coming weeks and months.

Northeast Corridor play at the Jericho Tavern on the 27th of November.