Live Review: You Am I, The Persian Drugs

Oh, Burning Chair, you say? I see what you did there.

As band aliases go, they've probably never bettered appearing as The Australian You Am I Tribute Show some years back. But the fine traditions of the semi-secret show — the big band in a small room either as warm-up or just for the sheer joy of it — are well upheld.

The in-the-know faithful pile into the venue formerly known as The Vanguard, and are first distracted by The Persian Drugs, a sprawling six-piece with a fair bit of retro swagger as some nice tambourine work from Laura Murdoch and Jill Reeves underlines songs like Hole In My Head's roll and rumble.

"Thanks for coming to the rehearsal..." welcomes Tim Rogers in flared rock'n'roll black, and rather fetching powder-blue turban, as You Am I gear up for a string of A Day On The Green winery dates. This means that, despite the tiny stage, it's the extended version of the band — with pocket brass section and a couple of Wolfgramm sisters for added vocal texture. The horns aren't just for decoration: Hourly Daily's Baby Clothes and Two Hands' soulful swing of regret are among the openers.

"We'll play those tunes from our 1890s heyday," Timmy grumpily jokes. OK, check the favourites off: Deliverance, Rumble, the sigh of Heavy Heart, Cathy's Clown heaves, the windmilling glory of that Burning...er, Berlin Chair. And some sidetracks: XTC's Senses Working Overtime and straight into Mr Milk, which they handily play next for reference so you can 'woo hoo!' in slightly differing ways. And if you always wanted You Am I to play at your school formal, with the Wolfgramms belting it out, it's Nutbush City Limits as you imagined.

So, when Russell Hopkinson lunges into that big-beat opening to the enormous Trike and you dance like a mad thing in that clapping breakdown in the middle, you realise any rust has been dislodged from the pipes, and this remains a band supreme. Enjoy with a picnic basket and a nice shiraz somewhere outdoors over coming weeks, or wait 'til the next time they're back in a sweaty bar somewhere near you.