Live Review: Propagandhi, Crisis Alert, Deep Heat

From the moment we step into Corner Hotel, it's clear from the attendees that we're in for a traditional punk gig. But it's not the angsty, ostentatious type of punk crowd. Two young bands warm up the tense crowd. Melbourne's Deep Heat start things off and churn out straight, simple grunge with busy riffs, clever harmonies and floppy hairstyles. The crowd is easily won over and dances along, while the band chats amicably with their friends in the front row.

Next up, Crisis Alert have made the trip over from Adelaide and are going to make the most of it. They open up with strong power chords and flow quickly into double-time metal. Their amazingly busy drummer holds this all together and allows lead singer, Matt “Footy” Horvath, to really go off the rails – screaming with passionate anger and getting carried around the small but enthusiastic mosh.

The perfect tone is set for Propagandhi to come on stage but, before they do, there is a Welcome To Country and the West Papua and Australian Aboriginal flags are raised. This gig is dedicated to “indigenous people around the world”. The stage darkens and a strange, hypnotic synth blasts out, overlaid with politically charged sound bites. Suddenly, the band that formed 28 years ago appear and burst with youthful vigour that doesn't let up until the end of the night.

Early on, they power through recently released tracks Note To Self – a dark, slow build that becomes a diatribe against a “bullshit system” – and Cognitive Suicide. “Live your life and don't apologise/To the cowards of this world, they're a waste of time,” screams frontman Chris Hannah in the latter song. He remains pretty rigid for most of the gig, as does lead guitarist David Guillas, but bass player Todd Kowalski is the opposite as he hurls himself around the stage sporting a huge grin. Soon after the crowd-pleaser Back To The Motor League, the band disappear and then quickly reappear for the expected encore. The final song of the night, the classic Stick The Fucking Flag Up Your Goddam Ass, You Sonofabitch (from their 1993 debut) perfectly captures the raw yet intelligent nature of their earliest work. Propagandhi are not young rebels anymore, which is clear from the polite and appreciative crowd interaction, but they certainly haven't forgotten how to blow us away.