Live Review: The Smith Street Band, Joyce Manor, Cheap Girls, Seahorse Divorce

There's something about Melbourne punk poets The Smith Street Band. They're earnest. They sing rousing and romantic songs. They generally project a positive vibe. It's like the opposite of everything we've been conditioned to expect from rock'n'roll. But they've still managed to capture the imaginations of the punk and indie worlds. Their success is as perplexing as it is refreshing, and that dichotomy is reinforced tonight by the 'sold out' sign on The Zoo's door.

The sell out crowd means there's plenty of kids hovering around the bar and merch desk while Brisbane locals Seahorse Divorce kick off the evening, the intricate and swirling melodies from the band's recently released full-length jumping out of the set. Their cuts sound like Fugazi being filtered through the current crop of Australian rock bands. It's a compelling combination, and is met with appreciation in the swelling crowd.

With their three-piece configuration and a hometown in a particularly miserable part of America (Michigan's capital, Lansing) Cheap Girls immediately conjure up associations with post-Zen Arcade Hüsker Dü. Like the legendary Minnesotan band, Cheap Girls' set never sacrifices its driving power for infectious melodies. Working through efforts from their My Roaring 20's LP, the Cheap Girls set only ever comes off as classy.

After Cheap Girls take their leave from the stage, another Stateside indie punk outfit in Joyce Manor take over and play tonight's main support slot. But where Cheap Girls come across tight, even polished, Joyce Manor sounding charmingly shambling. Their sprawling and rambunctious tunes are the perfect soundtrack to those who've spent the night making return trips to the bar. Their set is loose and fun and would have you jumping up and down if you could do so without spilling your beer.

As frontman Wil Wagner leads The Smith Street Band into opener Don't Fuck With Our Dreams, the sold-out Zoo is right there with the singer. Caught up in the evocative stories, feeling as though the music is a conduit for fondly nostalgic rememberings of their own youthful hijinks, the crowd is rapt in the band. Older efforts like Postcodes (For People Who Will Not Arrest Me) and Sunshine And Technology become anthemic sing-alongs tonight. The slower efforts from the band's Don't Fuck With Our Dreams EP languish in a weird half-timed purgatory – the energy in the room is running too high for new cuts like Self Control to hit their target. It's a misstep into balladry territory, but The Smith Street Band quickly recover with a potent rendition of Young Drunk, and when the show is over, the crowd is collectively thinking that The Smith Street Band better find a bigger venue again for their next Brisbane show.