Live Review: Deap Vally, The Delta Riggs

Saturday night's alright for a rambunctious rock'n'roll double-header, and what better place to do it than the Tote. The entry queue snakes all the way to the pool table in the front bar and with the bandroom bar not yet open for business, it's a fair old shambles early on.

On at a shade before 10pm, Sydney lads The Delta Riggs jump on stage ready to throw down a fine brand of rock music. Despite some lingering queue-and-no-open-bar-based disgruntlement from the audience being noticed by the band's lead singer Elliott Hammond (“it's Saturday night but you're acting like it's a Monday!”), after the first couple of opening tracks the growing numbers in the Tote are singing along and air-pumping their fists with gay abandon. For the uneducated, The Delta Riggs' sound is classic era rock and/or roll. Channelling The Rolling Stones, Hammond struts the stage like a young – a very young – Jagger, although his baby-face is much more reminiscent of Keanu Reeves than the 70-year-old icon. The band have a fair fanbase through the significant triple j airplay of singles such as America and Money, and tonight it's safe to say they add a few more to that number. As they finish their 40-minute set off with Rah Rah Radio, it's clear that big things are on the cards for The Riggs.

The bar opens some time around 10.30pm, its offerings quenching the thirst of a sold-out crowd with 30-odd minutes to kill. When the ladies from Deap Vally take to the stage, a ripple of applause quickly transforms into a cacophony of cheers. Lindsey Troy and Julie Edwards take up their respective positions on stage and rip straight into their ball-tearing set. It's not long before they get into debut single Gonna Make My Own Money amid plenty of voices – male and female – singing along with gusto. When an eager young punter at the front of the crowd ambitiously requests a signature on her CD, she is immediately obliged by Troy and Edwards, who go out of their way to please the packed Tote bandroom tonight.

In a shameless attempt to buff out the length of their set (“we were told off in Sydney for not playing long enough” – not a great move) they fail miserably in trying to inspire a crowd rendition of Advance Australia Fair. The closest they get to crowd participation is a lone dickhead attempting an “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie” shout-out to groans of despair. It's a sole blight on an otherwise blistering set and, even if it's over within an hour, Deap Vally certainly impress.