Live Review: Tortoise, Grails, New War

New War are confusing. The lead singer prances around the stage with heavily, almost indecipherably reverbed vocals, there's punishing keys and then also a relentless, almost austere, bass groove. They don't make it easy for you and are vaguely reminiscent of PiL. The crowd stand bewildered, somewhat punished. There is genius here but also despair and everything in between.

Grails come out and are instrumental puritans – something like The Grateful Dead trying to be Tortoise. These guys are a jam band in the classic San Francisco stoner sense: no less than three guitars at any one time (including pedal steel), killer drums and numerous instrumental meanderings that often involve electronics. By the time the band finish, the crowd has swelled and they get a rousing reception.

And then we have Tortoise. With no acknowledgement towards the crowd, it's a two-drum face-off at the front of the stage and they look, well, old. How long ago was the post-rock revolution anyway? Because we're talking bald spots and wrinkles. The bass player looks like your drunken uncle who moved to Brisbane to drink beer and have BBQs in the sun, even John McEntire has a bald spot. But when they start playing we're back in the late '90s, or anywhere through 2000. The hype may have passed them by, but man these guys know how to play. Most of the tunes come from their last album, 2009's Beacons Of Ancestorship, an album characterised by creeping electronics and a reduction in marimba action, but they steal liberally from their entire oeuvre and the audience is appreciative.

The beauty of Tortoise is that they're here to play. There's no fucking around, no pandering entertainment, just music. At various times they all take turns on pretty much every instrument, the highlight being every time McEntire moves from the drums to electronics/keys. If you're looking for a Tortoise barometer, this is it. His face says it all, from supreme ecstasy to searching indecision. The highlights both come from 2004's It's All Around You: the almost intolerably evangelical Crest, during which McEntire's eyes loll around the back of his head, and the first track after the encore, the frenetic Salt The Skies. “It's gonna get intense,” warns bassist Doug McCombs. He's right. They may look somewhat ragged, but if you want a double-drum onslaught and consummate musicianship then look no further. No one comes close.