Live Review: Royal Blood, Polish Club, Psychedelic Porn Crumpets

The two guitarists in Psychedelic Porn Crumpets - frontman Jack McEwan and Luke Parish - lock into head-banging unison while their bassist Luke Reynolds juts his chin in and out, like a chicken, to keep the beat. Both guitarists also hide behind their long tresses but Reynolds is clearly on the prowl, copping a squizz at the front section to identify those he'd potentially give a backstage pass to. From where we're sitting, drummer Danny Caddy is completely obscured by another drum kit, which is covered by a curtain - it sometimes sucks to be the opening act, hey? Marmalade March is a rallying cry with twisted riffs. It's a fun game to think of alternate names for this Perth band (Pornographic Jizz Strumpets?) who are the masters of off-timing and make us miss Wolf & Cub. All gnarly, twisted riffs and punchy drums, Psychedelic Porn Crumpets are far out, man.

Next up is Sydney duo Polish Club: David Novak on the killer, soulful vocals and guitar shredding plus kit smasher John-Henry Pajak supplying the mega-fast pace. After telling us they're about to play a cover, Pajak drops a clanger, "We were gonna play a song by a band from Melbourne, but there's no good bands from Melbourne" - what? Way to make your crowd hostile! As a result, the duo's excellent cover of Ginuwine's Pony falls flat. There's a real rough guitar part during this number. Then Pajak throws a bottle cap at Novak's head while he's singing and it hits him. Why do that? These boys seem hammered, which is unprofessional. More Melbourne bashing? Unnecessary. Then they point out how much better Royal Blood are than them, in every way. Someone in the seats yells out, "You sound shit!" A two-piece supporting a two-piece (especially with Royal Blood as headliners) adds further pressure and we're pretty sure even Polish Club themselves would agree they didn't nail it tonight.

Royal Blood's intro tape Get Down Tonight by KC & The Sunshine Band signals it's time for the duo to jive out onto the stage. You can definitely tell they've got samples running in the background during a couple of tracks but these two produce one helluva racket. We've immediately all get our permanent stank faces on.

Ben Thatcher's creative drum fills are a thing of beauty. A coupla sassy backing vocalists come out for added interest during I Only Lie When I Love You. Everything is nuanced, nothing's overdone or overbaked. The GA section is heaving with a lively circle-pit front and centre. Thatcher takes a swig straight from a Patron bottle. The drum solo is mad and we clap along to his fascinating rhythms (with occasional cowbell) as white light races up and down the set of narrow tubes that frame the pair. 

The beseeching, cymbal-heavy Blood Hands stops us in our tracks. Royal Blood are not show ponies, they just bring the goods. Frontman/bassist/guitarist/keys player Mike Kerr's subtle body language captivates while he produces these down-and-dirty riffs. Kerr is so incredibly humble: "Thanks just for putting up with us, really." Shouted requests for a "Shoe-y! Shoe-y!" are declined by Kerr, who playfully mimics this chant, "Shut-up! Shut-up!"

Kerr somehow plays keys through his bass and it's nuts! We need a tutorial on that. The backing vocalists are used sparingly, but the lady stage right goes rogue at one point with added sexy, hip-gyration moves - trying to pull focus.

The band's one-two encore punch - the mighty Ten Tonne Skeleton and stop-start majesty of Out Of The Black - leave us breathless. Royal Blood are gold-medal contenders in the two-piece category of the Gig Olympics. They totally smash it.