Live Review: Hunx & His Punx, The UV Race, Scott & Charlene's Wedding

Against a backdrop of sheets decorated like a busier, ruder version of the cover of the Chipmunk Punk album, Scott & Charlene's Wedding chatter as they gather. The room fills in minutes as the band begin barreling through their set. From behind a straggly curtain of blonde hair, singer-songwriter Craig Dermody leads the band through a rambling, glorious clutch of songs with local classics Two Weeks and Gammy Leg the high points. Sipping from his pint and grinning at guitarist Gill Tucker as if to say, 'Hey, nice one!' they finish on the moronic genius of Karen.

Playing what seems their hundredth Melbourne show, The UV Race is a six-strong army channelling the arty mayhem of Melbourne's Little Band scene of the early '80s. Fittingly for a band that sounds as though they've not listened to any music post 1983, The UV Race's songs are emboldened with a vitality missing from much modern music. Like a house party started then abandoned by Mark E Smith, the packed room carries the same friendly intensity that's bursting from the stage.

After a lengthy break, and to a crowd now wild with anticipation, leather-clad pretty-boy Seth Bogart arrives onstage and smiles: “We're Hunx & His Punx and we're from California.” Opening with You Don't Like Rock'n'Roll, the band's fusion of lovable, '50s rock'n'roll and a gay-punk aesthetic is so bold and brash – and the audience so on-side – it's near impossible to resist. “Ha! I know you!” laughs Bogart, pointing at someone in the front row. The whole room wishes they were that person. “This goes out to acne survivors,” he says introducing Bad Skin before blasting through the “political song” Everyone's A Pussy (Fuck You Dude) in ten seconds.

Revelling in a style-over-substance brand of raw rock'n'roll, the simpering brilliance of Bogart (“this song is called Bad Boy,” he smiles to no one in particular) is a powerful force. Older songs such as Gimme Gimme Back Your Love and newer track Mud In Your Eyes show a musical adventurousness bordering on the non-existent – each short, sheared anthem of defiance another sermon to the converted. The Curse Of Being Young and another “political” blast of sub 30-second hormonal angst, Don't Call Me Fabulous, are further examples of carefully crafted, perfectly rendered punk-rock, just like the cartoonish backdrop they play before.

Returning with a reconfigured line-up as Shannon & The Clams, this trio – lead by Punx bassist Shannon Shaw – is tighter, punchier and more about the song than the look. Once a three-song set has been heckled out of them (including the killer I Don't Want To Be In A Cult No More), and Hunx has fled the stage to the merch desk, the audience, still thirsty for more, flop toward each other, grinning like stroked cats.