Live Review: The Smith Street Band, Luca Brasi, Joelistics, Jess Locke Band

Jess Locke Band melted away our week's worries, opening with their warm yet melancholic folk-rock. Locke is exceptionally talented, and the three-piece play a tight show — keep an ear out for this trio. 

Youth worker by day, rapper by night, Joelistics and DJ Beatrice were here to shake things up with their set of slick beats and rhymes. Telling tales of hardship and political correctness, the MC showed he's not afraid of being himself, spitting refreshingly honest hip hop. 

One might have been mistaken in thinking this was a Luca Brasi show, as the boys confidently controlled the stage and launched into Aeroplane, sending the crowd into a frenzy. Mosh pits were rife and crowdsurfers rogue during a set of new tracks that were received exceptionally well. Classic Borders And Statelines was a standout, and Count Me Out closed the set, one which could have left them outshining the headliner, including the crowd calling for an encore — a rarity for a support band.

Fortunately the crowd were cheering and chanting for The Smith Street Band before they reached the stage. Wil Wagner took to the stage solo to open with I Love Life and by the time the second song was through, the Metro floor was heaving; jumpers were being thrown, and Wagner could barely be heard over the crowd singing. 

The pit was rife with your usual punk antics, and Tyler Richardson from Luca Brasi lent his voice to a verse or two, before the therapeutic Surrender lifted everyone's spirits. 

Wagner announced that there would be more Smith Street tunes coming our way soon, dedicating a new track to the times "when you're trying to have a good time and some buff dude takes his shirt off" (a not so subtle nod to a shirtless crowdsurfer). 

I Don't Wanna Die Anymore was distinguished, and Wagner was ruthless during I Can't Feel My Face, literally kicking some dude off stage, proclaiming "For future reference, if you want to get on stage, start your own fucking band." Ouch. 

Throw Me In The River was a fitting end to a mental set, and an ode to the gritty, familiar and enduring Metro Theatre and its legendary place in the Australian punk scene.