Live Review: DZ Deathrays - The Tote

You know you're onto something special when there are at least eight snappers – does this call for a collective noun, a clique, perhaps? – at the Tote for early openers, grappling for money-shot position. “How's everybody doing tonight? Getting fucked up?” enquires Them 9's frontman Josh Haire. Bassist Josh Murphy looks like a cross between Dave Navarro and Sideshow Bob. We can hear that they're having difficulties, but Them 9's fuzzed-out bluesy thang is definitely worth watching.

One member of Velociraptor asks us whether we've tried Brisbane Bitter. Negative. A neighbour in the crowd is overheard saying, “DZ don't need this band,” (both members of tonight's headliners also play in Velociraptor). And sure, they don't, but we definitely need Velociraptor's music. They sound like a twister gnawing through Disneyland and it's kinda like watching DZ Deathrays through a curtain of fellow (equally ace) band members. This band's name perfectly suits them as they careen around the stage like a multi-headed, stone-age beast and we lose track of who plays what and how many singers they boast. Belligerence anthem/yoof station-favourite In The Springtime (the one that goes, “It's just I am what I am/I am/I am”) is thrown in and demonstrates everything that's great about this band; they're exuberant and oscillate wildly between loose and tight. How do they conclude their set? With a rousing version of the Batman TV themesong.

You couldn't fit another body inside the Tote, and jostling for position starts the minute Velociraptor leave the stage. After punters chant for Shane Parsons to “scull, scull, scull!” as he soundchecks, the frontman indulges them by draining a pint of beer followed immediately by what appears to be a spirit mixed with coke. Mics are tested with patriotism: “one-two-kangaroo.” DZ Deathrays are superstars. Even a plastic poncho couldn't protect you from the liquids that fly around during one of their sets. Labelmates Bleeding Knees Club stirred up a fair mosh at their recent Northcote Social Club show, but that tide is swamped by tonight's anatomical whirlpool. No Sleep hypnotises, Gebbie Street seduces and Rad Solar throws our senses and limbs into overdrive. Parsons and drummer Simon Ridley are demons that play conduit to the gods of authentic rock'n'roll. You don't see musos sweating gallons anymore, it's usually towelled/powder puffed off in the wings. Where to start with Blue Blood? Lyrics are kept simple: “I want you/I need you/I'm comin'/To see you/Ai-I-Iy/Ai-I-Iy” etc. Riffs flirt with the brown note and drumming bashes your scone in.

DZ leave themselves on that stage and Parsons roars on even after the PA blows up and vocals become inaudible – he's unable to separate performance elements. And who would've thunk instrumental versions of DZ Deathrays joints would hold up? With one integral piece of the puzzle missing, the crowd rocks out as if they haven't noticed. Even when we can no longer hear Parsons' impressive yowl, the atmosphere inside the venue is intoxicating and more akin to something you'd witness as a reaction to a cranking dance band à la The Prodigy. A follow-up Facebook post from the band: “Blew up the PA at the Tote or something. Thanks to everyone for still going nuts. It was pretty much a house party in there.”