Live Review: Civil Civic, Moses Gunn Collective & Archdukes

A small but amiable crowd is out early to watch equally amicable four-piece Archdukes. The boys bookend their show with songs that revel in the sonorous wall of noise that most shoegaze aficionados call their stock in trade, yet the quality of songwriting ebbs and flows in the middle. Somewhere between Tame Impala and The Temper Trap as far as immediate touchstones are involved, the band need to find their own emotive voice if they are to climb above the plethora of likeminded bands that clutter the Australian music scene.

Which may sound a trite comment, for Moses Gunn Collective clearly wear their influences pinned firmly to their sleeve. Yet while their set swings from an authentic love of '60s paisley psychedelic pop to the desert drone rock that Texans The Black Angels make their bread and butter (with slight leanings towards prog), the sheer musicianship and frivolity from the five-piece keep things afloat. Colours and its fantastically feverish outro is a highlight, and when the band ramps up the speed, things become heady. There are awkward time signature shifts, and the newer songs don't flow on as easily as their older material, yet overall it's an impressive set.

While both Aaron Cupples and Ben Green call Melbourne their 'home', Civil Civic are playing their first ever show on Australian soil tonight, with the duo living in London and Barcelona respectively. They take the stage, guitar and bass in hand, with the monolith-like Box set up in the middle, their unofficial third member that is a control centre for the drum machine, synth and light show. They appear nervous, but when the heavy, insistent drum machine kicks off there is no turning back. The set is filled with most of the tracks off debut LP Rules, playing out like a bizarre drunken party of two. Green shimmies around the stage like a hairy Antipodean Elvis, while Cupples strangles his guitar, a true no wave acolyte. But this isn't wanton noise – these songs are discordant yet inimitably cool dance rock tunes. Street Trap, Less Overdrive and Sky Delay are acid-tabs of incessant playfulness. Lights On A Leash is the exception, an elongated insidious crawler that buries under the skin. And when they smash out Airspray, it's this reviewer's first experience of a crowd singalong – to an instrumental. The duo clearly has a blast, and it rubs off – when the incredible set finishes, there are high fives all round. Why aren't more shows this original, unpretentious and fun?