Live Review: Mark Lanegan Band, The Laurels

The reverb-saturated opening numbers played to a sparsely peopled house; the crowd thickened up somewhat as the set went on. Despite switching vocalists, and a definite nod to The Vines in sound and style, they couldn't avoid a dreary midsection, a situation compounded by the addition of even more fuzz effects. The final number was at last a blast of short, sharp, fast, loud but ultimately it was too little too late. There's a lot to like about this band, but they've got a long way to go.

Mark Lanegan is the proud possessor of the most distinctive rasp this side of Tom Waits. On occasions such as these where he is showcasing his own music instead of that of his many collaborators are not to be missed.

The opening numbers Harvest Home, Gravedigger's Son, No Bells On Sunday and Hit The City melded bombast, California gothic, dense gritty riffs, slinky bass and ethereal keys into a wonderful array of layers, textures, intricacy and stompin' good bluesy rock. The '80s-style electro of Ode To Sad Disco and Riot In My House gets more than a few arses shaking while the lament of Deepest Shade called to mind a 1940s torch song.

All of which contrasts with the dragging latter half of the set, best described as inert. The purists will probably take issue with this description, but even they would have to admit the overreliance on repetition and electro elements was a low point before things got going again with Black Rose Way and Death Trip To Tulsa. The encore featured crowd favourites I Am The Wolf, The Killing Season and the majesty of Methamphetamine Blues.