Live Review: Drenge, The Creases

With their derelict travel van parked outside on Wellington Street, guitar-pop, indie-punk quartet, The Creases take to the stage in supporting duties ahead of their UK tour. The Brisbane snowball has gained serious momentum in recent months with a string of support tours on top of a Laneway opening set, and let's not forget that fortuitous signing to label heavyweights, Rough Trade. It seems they haven't quite hit the big time yet, at least not according to frontman Jarrod Mahon who wastes little time in admitting that they're “tired, hungry and broke”. Despite said fatigue, as well as the recent loss of the band's original drummer, Bridie McQueenie, the lads string together a well-versed show with I Won't Wait, a predictable crowd pleaser amidst a bunch of lesser-knowns from their fledgling discography.  
The boys from Brisbane aren't long finished before The Tote's sound system is put through its paces, courtesy of Eoin and Rory Loveless (aka Drenge). Similar to their supporting counterparts, the UK grunge outfit find themselves in the midst of a major tour and they too refuse to show any signs of lethargy. The marching-band drum beat of Dogmeat gets the ball rolling before the metal riffs of Necromance Is Dead ignite the first fist pumps of the evening.
Finding middle ground somewhere between trash metal and Britpop, the pair bounce off one another displaying great charisma, interrupted only by Rory intermittingly lobbing water bottles at his brother from behind the safety of his drum kit. The boys persistently tread the line between keeping the crowd pumped and sending them into complete head banging fury. That is, of course, until Rory breaks into the distorted screams of Bloodsports – never before has a dude with a puppy t-shirt looked so hardcore.
Face Like A Skull rounds off the set with a major audio delay before the brothers exit the stage through the crowd into the shadows. Drenge, ten points. Eardrums, zero.