Live Review: Monster Magnet, King Of The North, Fort

The evening of rock revivalism commences with a mighty effort from Byron Bay's Fort. Given the fact that they emerged near on the cusp of the millennium, mere moments after the '90s blazed away into its final puff a smoke, there couldn't be many as suitably fitted for this bill. In standing testament to this 14-year commitment, the five-piece slog out a lively set that, while short, is far sweeter than most opening acts have to offer. 

Although second support King Of The North are a relatively new band, it rarely shows. Frontman Andrew Higg's immense guitar sound broadens the scope of this two-piece guitar-and-drum-combo, and their grooves hit home hard. It's ever impressive to see him simultaneously fill the roles of two guitarists and a bass player while also delivering a solid vocal performance, but unfortunately his reliance on guitar-enhancing gadgetry briefly becomes the band's downfall, as part way through they suffer a few-minute hold-up due to technical difficulties.

After the heartbreaking cancellation of Monster Magnet's 2011 Australian tour (where they were slated to play their '95 opus Dopes To Infinity in its entirety), fans are understandably elated to see them return in support of what is arguably their most consistent record of the past decade or more. When they last actually played here in 2009 they completely ignored their past two albums. This time round, however, they show an acute confidence in their current creative output by opening with the epic title track from Last Patrol, and it delivers the goods in spades. MM Mastermind Dave Wyndorf seems to have regained an ounce of his agility, and as he and the band channel crescendo after crescendo there is no doubt that they're all in quite fine form. Current cuts Three Kingfishers and Paradise slide in beautifully between classics Dopes to Infinity and Look To Your Orb For The Warning, but it's the set ender, old-new one-two smack of Spine Of God and End Of Time that truly breaches the void and really displays their enduring relevance. On the former, Wyndorf exercises his past chemical-demons and trails off on a stream of consciousness-like channelling and critique of culture that sees him splice in lines of McLean's American Pie. And with the latter, all five members are absolutely cooking to the highest degree.

An encore of Twin Earth, Powertrip and Space Lord sends the pit into hysterics, and it all trails out as the room-in-unison chants the obligatory “space lord motherfucker”. The Monster Magnet experience sure does still deliver the thrills of old, but it becomes all the more inspiring when not all the trips taken are looking backwards.