Live Review: Mac DeMarco, Scotdrakula

Breathing life into a chilly dusk, ScotDrakula play a particularly incendiary form of messy, Jay Reatard-esque rock and quickly prove a killer choice of opener. Beneath a long steady stream of bats flying above them, and a distractingly good documentary about Australian wildlife projected on the massive cinema screen behind them, the three band members set fire to any preconceptions punters may have about what a three-piece is capable of.

Guitarist and vocal-cord shredder Matt Neumann is a riveting presence and the band bring violent fun and a lingering sense of danger that characterises so much of the best garage rock. Avalanche is driven by a sharp, violent melody, Idlewild is hellish rockabilly and latest single Break Me Up is a high point of the night. Kicking goal after goal, the audience respond with similarly euphoric bursts of noise.

Described in his promo material as a “slack rocker and complete charmer”, Mac DeMarco is, in fact, anything but. Well, if you like your charmers belching profusely and requesting to see strangers' penises and generally acting like a mischievous grandfather, then DeMarco's your man. Opening with one of the musical high points of 2012, Cooking Up Something Good, Mac DeMarco and his three-piece lock straight into a raw and mercurial boogie. With a warmly appreciative crowd already on side, the band ease into The Stars Keep On Calling My Name and the system is set. Gone are the gentle, humble songs that make his most recent album 2 so good. In their place are chunky, garage-rock makeovers that really really work.

“I'm seeing a lot of eyes but I'm not seeing a lot of shaking Melbourne,” says self-declared “dickhead from Jersey”/bassist Pierce McGarry. “You're screwing us over!” DeMarco goes for the old “Sydney gave us more. You guys have gotta top them, right?” angle and both techniques work. OH&S goes out the window as shirts come off, people climb on shoulders and crowd-surfing kicks off. He's got us right where he wants us, and we're rewarded with a killer set. Ode ToViceroy, Annie, a rare outing of Me And Jon Hanging On and scorching takes on Freaking Out The Neighborhood and Baby's Wearing Blue Jeans during which DeMarco and McGarry viciously make out with each other. “Hey man, you taste of Taco Bell,” says McGarry offhandedly. “That's what it tastes like when a heterosexual man kisses another man.” DeMarco shrugs.

McGarry requests to “see some penises”, and several punters comply earning plenty of complimentary assessments from DeMarco. A penis-themed cover of Weezer's Undone – The Sweater Song (less faithful than Bored Nothing's take on it here last month) follows and soon the gig moves into the band's divisive-but-passionate 'covers' section: Takin' Care Of Business and phenomenally half-assed versions of Enter Sandman and Stairway To Heaven raise the sloppy party vibe and close the set with a very happy audience howling for more.