Live Review: Earth, Bonnie Merccer, Henery, Macmanus, Richards

The Henery, Macmanus, Richards Trio struggle with the mix initially as the night kicks off. The drums are so loud above the deeply distorted bass and guitar that the set threatens to devolve into the longest, dullest, drum solo in history. A couple of songs in, things begin to settle and, as the guitar becomes significantly more prominent, they instead turn in an outstanding selection of instrumental music – skirting the edges of doom-metal and clearly influenced by the work of tonight's headliners. It gets better and better as their set goes on, and by the end has reached a laudable level of threatening intensity.

Bonnie Merccer, formerly of the Grey Daturas, performs a rather more extreme set. Shrieking feedback with hints at underlying melody fills the room and overwhelms all conversation, demanding – and largely receiving – complete attention. Unfortunately it's over far too soon, wrapped up 20 minutes before the scheduled end, and while the brevity is perhaps an appropriate choice, it would have been nice to see a bit more of her.

In three-piece mode tonight (guitar, bass & drums), Earth begin their first ever Brisbane show with Badger, a new track from their forthcoming album. It's a rather quiet piece, with the country influence that's been strongly apparent on the last couple of albums making its presence felt. Old Black follows and continues the sound – almost friendly after tonight's openers. The set list ranges across Earth's catalogue, taking in everything from the forthcoming album all the way back to Ouroborus Is Broken, off Hibernaculum. There's a consistency to the sound despite the wide coverage and it comes across like metal trapped in molasses: slow, sweet, repeating melodies played with a warm tone and accompanied by a lingering distortion. Meditative in the way of drone, the slow repetition leaves the mind free to wander and wonder.

The only real movement on stage comes from drummer Adrienne Davies who has long, extravagant strokes as she plays, always pausing just before impact to keep the hits quiet, subtle and expressive. Dylan Carlson displays a wonderfully dry sense of humour in between tracks, seeming happy to poke fun at his own oeuvre. Dancing is encouraged before A Multiplicity Of Doors and a medley is compared to the Space part of a Grateful Dead concert.

The music's slightly too quiet due to noise restrictions on a Sunday, and this kind of music works best when presented at great volume, when the sound becomes all-encompassing – a physical presence that overwhelms and embraces the listener. It's still a skilful performance tonight, restrained and precise, but it's merely a very good representation of the recordings, rather than reaching the level of transcendence that Earth seems capable of.