Live Review: Naked, No Sister, Peak Body, Jealous Husband

Jealous Husband open the night and deliver a notably interesting set of dolewave psychedelia. With so many effects pedals, which define and make the sound, this solo musician definitely falls into the weird-yet-accessible category.

Tonight marks husband and wife duo Peak Body's first interstate performance since they crossed the pond from Tasmania and it's a welcome one. The guitar tones for the group are amazing, thickening out the sound and warranting their opening instrumental. Although each song possess a good core idea, they are at their best during their slowest offering - Low meets Bardo Pond dreamscapes, done right and with potential.

The surprisingly young No Sister take the stage next and they clearly like Sonic Youth. They're a head-scratcher. On one hand, they make you wanna have another crack at shoving a screwdriver underneath the strings of your guitar (for some reason they even have a turntable spinning a record during their set). On the other hand, yeah, it's kinda over the top. But when they let loose, it feels warranted and leaves you wishing you'd listened to the same records they have at their age. They're clearly well-rehearsed and full of amazing ideas, but maybe need slight development compositionally and some more original concepts. However, these will unearth in time. 

The biggest thing to come from Hobart since Blacklist, Naked make their second appearance at Grace Darling Hotel this year and it's a welcome return. The three-piece initially deliver a similar show, favouring songs from latest opus Pink Quartz. These brash punk kids are getting older, while their love of anthemic '90s Australian indie-punk (a la 28 Days when they were good, Jebediah, Silverchair) is starting to come out more and more in their shows. This is clearly evident in tracks like Sprinters Of The World Unite (tonight this track features an intro that dips into ambient territory) and the appropriately titled Massive Cock. Their songs are just so bloody catchy, all the lyrics stick, it's hard not to sing along and that feels like a quality that bands don't possess anymore. Closer Think About Death turns into a sprawling free-for-all that sees some rusty old cymbals and any beers in arms length, bear the band's brunt in a display of good old fashioned, punk rock smash 'em ups.