Live Review: Slash feat. Myles Kennedy & The Conspirators, Rose Tattoo

Angry Anderson seems indecisive about the direction of his much-touted political career, but even after 35-plus years and a tragic thinning of the ranks, there's nothing uncertain about Rose Tattoo's delivery. Given their significance within Guns N' Roses history, the headliner obviously played a role in their selection. Their loud, distinctly Australian bluesy rock was always a warmly received soundtrack to a few brews. Even now a packed, sweaty pub is the most appropriate venue to witness them, but as Anderson vigorously swigged wine and engaged in political and rock-themed sermons, a brief tour of their history (Rock 'N' Roll Outlaw, closing We Can't Be Beaten/Bad Boy For Love) ensued.

Despite creating a minor stir after the list of questions journalists aren't allowed to ask him anymore leaked online, said request is further indication of Slash's desire to focus on the present and upcoming plans rather than dwell on the past. Now, with incredibly versatile vocalist Myles Kennedy and an efficient group of players at his disposal, the top hat-sporting one's future seems assured. That said, intelligently, this two-hour set had one scuffed-up cowboy boot in Slash's history and the other in his solo career; anything less and the rabid, full room would have felt cheated.

This straddling of eras was exhibited by opening salvo of new cut Halo, Guns' Nightrain and Ghost from his star-studded 2010 solo endeavour, Kennedy ably substituting for Ian Astbury. Reaching heights Axl never could and armed with the confidence to tackle crowd-pleasing anthems like My Michelle and Sweet Child O' Mine (or material from Velvet Revolver's oft-overlooked debut) without merely performing them by rote, Kennedy displayed his rapidly growing status as arena rock frontman, aided by his guitar-slinging partner-in-crime's sizeable swagger. Kennedy also cleverly let others take centre stage, livewire bassist Todd Kerns handling lead vocals on Out Ta Get Me and Doctor Alibi, or during the extended guitar solo spots and jams. The latter fractionally tested the patience, and a Slash's Snakepit song had younger punters scratching their heads. Many were more than willing to allow him the indulgence though, even when hitting the odd bum note, especially as, as expected, they closed with mass singalong Paradise City. Latest disc, Apocalyptic Love, was inconsistent, but if Slash keeps this band intact and fulfils their obvious potential, the press may eventually have little reason to ask about what's been before and instead eagerly anticipate what's next.