Live Review: Frightened Rabbit, Admiral Fallow

Not even a full plate of haggis, neeps and tatties washed down with a can of Iron-Bru would compare to the flavoursome Scottish double act hitting Brisbane this evening. Glasgow's Admiral Fallow open the bill and it's clear that we're getting it pretty good with these guys; their popularity is swelling fast back in the UK and their latest album, Tree Bursts In Snow, which they play a large chunk of tonight, is full of passionate folk with rock'n'roll sensibilities. Louis Abbott sways and moves behind the microphone, his tone and charisma equal parts Frank Turner and Brian Fallon, while Kevin Brolly and Sarah Hayes use traditional instruments such as clarinet, flute and accordion to give a celebratory air to the whole experience, all offset by the rolling rhythms behind. Plenty of converts tonight; come back soon, please.

As for Frightened Rabbit, this is the headliner's first ever show in Brisbane and over the course of the night it's hard to tell who's loving it more – the band or the fans – such is the fantastic banter, performance joy and crowd adulation that carries throughout the 90-minute set. The Scottish crew play with vigour while managing to be simultaneously focused on their individual roles, the room and each other, all without missing a beat. With a large white backdrop emblazoned with the letters 'F' 'R', and marked with lines that suggest a beaming chapel – a place to come and dance with the congregation – Frightened Rabbit constantly provide moments where you feel the joy of life right where it counts. Scott Hutchison even shoots his hands up sporadically with the loose freedom of a Southern preacher man, while drummer and brother Grant continues to pull facial expressions that look like he's having a exorcism on the kit back of stage. The setlist holds every shade of the band within it. With the addition of an unintroduced sixth member who predominantly adds keys, percussion and guitar to newer tracks like Holy and Backyard Skulls, the bulk of latest record Pedestrian Verse gets aired and it sounds massive, especially the cries of “In these disastrous times/Disastrous times” on The Oil Slick. A solo acoustic take on Poke breaks up the set perfectly, while Good Arms Vs Bad Arms immediately after lets the band suitably trickle back on stage before Swim Until You Can't See Land glows and Acts Of Man attacks with post-rock fury. Fifteen songs deep and everyone would have left on a huge high; a four-song encore, including The Woodpile and The Loneliness And The Scream, simply took this night to the next level. Yes, there's been a wait since Splendour 2010, but my god was it ever worth it.