AirbourneBeing first time visitors to Sydney and a largely unknown quantity didn't hinder newly-formed Melburnians Palace Of The King too much. Unintentionally aiding their cause were punters being unable to duck out for a smoke or beer across the road until their set's conclusion, ensuring all present stayed for the entirety. A few seemingly enjoyed it too. Led by vocalist/percussionist Tim Henwood (The Superjesus, Rogue Traders, The Androids), their bluesy, soul-infused rock was less than remarkable but serviceable enough, The Devil Made Me Do It packing a swagger the horned one would approve of.
They split the vote like few others in modern hard rock, and although not the drawcard in their homeland that they are abroad Airbourne proudly fly the flag for loud, raucous music without a trace of irony. This sensibility only further endears them to their rabid, circle pit-inducing audience while simultaneously pouring fuel on their detractors' raging blaze. Kicking off with a boisterous one-two punch of Ready To Rock and Chewin' The Fat, the Warrnambool quartet favoured ear-bleeding distortion over any semblance of subtlety, and tinnitus instead of ingenuity. A fresh winter's night was no obstacle for perennially shirtless frontman Joel O'Keeffe, whose penchant for smashing full beer cans over his cranium and fondness for bare-knuckled, AC/DC and Rose Tattoo-inspired riffage were much appreciated by loyalists, who sang along to the straightahead yet infectious likes of Diamond In The Rough with gusto.
Although insurance and nervous promoters have meant O'Keeffe has reined in the stage-climbing antics, the sheer energy expended remained tiring to watch. He still took the opportunity to venture into the audience and eventually set up shop atop the bar during Raise The Flag, also skolling an appropriate libation to accompany Cheap Wine And Cheaper Women. Meanwhile, his band-mates' backing vocals, tireless head-banging and side-changing ensured the momentum didn't abate. Closing with Stand Up For Rock 'n' Roll, their showing was perhaps a tad truncated at just 75 minutes considering they have three LPs under their collective belts nowadays. This reviewer has witnessed them playing more frenetic shows previously, but there is a primal quality, an aggression to their performances that continues to resonate. On these shores, Airbourne's pretension-free fare deserves to be ruling arenas and gaining more prominent main stage festival spots, rather than preaching to the converted in clubs.
