Live Review: Meat Puppets, Love Hate Rebellion, Ma-genta Voyeur

It's an eclectic bill tonight, each of the three bands delving into the rock but otherwise steadfastly on their own musical voyage. Openers Magenta Voyeur play the '70s psych card with admirable ambition, keyboards flanking both sides of stage and guitars aplenty as they bring the bombast with the epic Cosmic Voyage. At times proggy elements segue into classic rock breakdowns and vocals are scarce but effective, soaring single Strigiformes showing plenty of body and soul before they finish on a suitably climatic note with the nuanced Jungle Song.
When locals Love Hate Rebellion begin pounding into their set it initially sounds virtually identical to the singer from Placebo wailing over Smashing Pumpkins' Cherub Rock, but they soon find their own voice and deliver a well-drilled and precise set of passionate alt-rock. Frontman Jimmy Sky has clear stadium ambitions and projects with unabashed self-confidence, and while it's a tad overwrought at times it's never overly earnest, the trio completing their allotted time with the restrained Melancholia.
There's a solid crowd gathered by the time scruffy Arizona four-piece Meat Puppets take their positions, all looking like they've lived life to the fullest, even young rhythm guitarist Elmo Kirkwood (son of founding bassist Cris and nephew of frontman Curt). They kick off their first Brisbane show in over 20 years with the strange circus jam of Touchdown King, and soon enough delve into the familiar Meat Puppets II lexicon with a restrained rendition of Plateau (one of the three songs from that album made famous when covered on Nirvana's MTV Unplugged In New York). As the toe-tappin' hoedown Comin' Down leads into the whistle-laden Maiden's Milk the long-standing country-bent of their punk rock becomes obvious – their sound unique but beguiling – and even as they move onto Oh Me it's their complete lack of pretension which is ultimately so much more endearing than any lingering association with rock'n'roll royalty. The Kirkwood brothers rap the machine-gun vocals to Sam in complete unison over frantic fretwork, and the playful intro to Up On The Sun soon builds into a sinewy behemoth. Shirtless drummer Shandon Sahm does a top job holding things down during the jaunty punch of Lost, and a brilliant cover of The Beach Boys' Sloop John B – delivered as homage and completely devoid of irony – segues into a monster rendition of Lake Of Fire, which displays serious muscle throughout before devolving into a massive finale of guitar mayhem to conclude the set. They're coaxed back for a simply amazing cover of The Everly Brothers' classic Cathy's Clown, a beefed-up version which stretches and stretches atop gorgeous familial harmonies, and then disappear into the night – a perfectly fun finale by a band still unwaveringly marching to the beat of their own drum.