We never saw this happening. It is October 2004 and I'm at the Curtin Uni Tav. My mate has just agreed to new local act Birds Of Tokyo supporting them on an upcoming gig. They do have a tight synergy that will probably serve them well, he notes. Nine years later and his one-time gig buddies are in front of us, playing a much larger second fiddle in Perth's biggest new venue. Unusually, they're being more adored than ignored by feverish main act fans. Plans receives the sort of elation normally reserved for the headliners and whilst they may currently be furrowing a somewhat more commercial big rock sound, it's hard not to be proud of the local scamps.
And whoever predicted this? It's October 2000. I am at Metro's in Northbridge and with a frustratingly acoustic Muscle Museum, Muse are three songs into a set that will soon turn on the guitars and blow us away. But they're toying with us. There are no more than 350 souls gaping at the stage. Thirteen years later, we are a mere stone's throw away and a packed new arena is being swallowed by a super-massively evolved Muse. Emerging from a vertically-shifting pyramid of screens, conspiring with retina-defeating lasers, Matt, Dom and Chris' stage presence is immediately bombastic as they tear into Supermassive Black Hole and Panic Station. Fears of “the old stuff”being ignored are swiftly allayed with the welcome bass onslaught of Hysteria, Hyper Music and the terrifying Citizen Erased, which crumbles Pink Floyd style just as Bellamy's face-melting snaps a string. Sunburn and Plug In Baby are belted en masse like dying national anthems while the more bloated songs from The Resistance and The 2nd Law (including the heaving finale, Survival) suffer from over-labouring. A paucity of restrained moments becomes apparent. No relief came from an emotional Invincible or Unintended; instead, lovers' tears were constrained to the powerful Madness before jumping out of skin to Time Is Running Out and Uprising. The pomposity of recent albums may have alienated many, but the OTT spectacle allowed for an irresistible reconnection.
An hour later, I'm propping the bar of a dodgy karaoke joint watching a marvellously Mo'vembered gent do a pitch perfect Freddie Mercury. Two Queen tributes in one night, then. How did it come to this?