Live Review: The Dillinger Escape Plan, Forstora

"Excited would be the understatement of the decade," main man Denis Radacic gushed as he described Forstora's feelings at opening for The Dillinger Escape Plan.

There was no shortage of obvious influence from the headliners as they burned through a combative set with Radacic's throat-ripping vocals being a compelling focus point, together with some particularly savage bass on Inevitability. Some of their momentum was lost in extended pauses between songs but as they closed with The Link Is Broken the audience response made it clear they'd been won over.

To make sense of why The Dillinger Escape Plan are disbanding this December, you might want to consider the decline of former soccer icon Roy Keane. Keane was a fearsome midfielder for Manchester United who terrorised opponents, but his influence diminished as he got older and injuries took their toll. It's obvious too that even The Dillinger Escape Plan couldn't maintain their superhuman pace forever. But if the light that burns twice as bright burns half as long, then their two decades of riot-instigating are even more miraculous. Tonight they were perhaps at 85-90% of their former peak intensity, which is still more energised than most bands can barely fathom. On the plus side, not only is their vault of a songbook packed with treasures, recent cuts like Limerent Death rank among their best. It was also one last chance to marvel at Ben Weinman's preternatural ability to continue shredding while leaping from speaker stacks and indulge in the strange warm feelings of singing along to Milk Lizard for a final time.

On the final lap they seemed to draw on some extra source of urgency for a vein-exploding Good Neighbour, a mentally scarring Farewell, Mona Lisa and for the encore, the whole band pretty much drained the collective tank for the sheer blind mayhem of Sunshine The Werewolf.  "Can I have a pint?" Greg Puciato asked a momentarily bemused front row before crowdsurfing to the bar, quaffing a coke-and-something and strutting all over the counter like he owned it. The carnage ended with Weinman hanging from lighting rig by one arm, like some wounded bat, and Puciato declaring that all the gigs they've played in Perth, this was their best. Well, who are we to argue?