Live Review: The Belligerents, Tiny Little Houses, Tali Mahoney

Trendy music complemented by trendy musicians is a surefire banger of a time. Chatter filled the dancefloor of Rocket Bar as Melbourne artist Tali Mahoney serenaded a polite crowd with quirky spoken anecdotes of the life of a gal growing up in the city. The solidarity of her and her guitar was intimate and entertaining, while her talented voice explored the scope of the room and made for a mesmerising journey.

The songstress remained on stage as Tiny Little Houses took their places as the token '90s-inspired indie band of the night. They crash-opened with Milo Tin, a homage to Australia's favourite brown powder. Their sound mirrors that of an indie movie soundtrack, something that reminds you of indestructible summer romances and sipping ice-cold lemonade through a quirky bendy straw.

Suitably, Caleb Karvountzis sports an oversized denim jacket complete with Smashing Pumpkins patch and all, the lo-fi teen movie heartthrob of your dreams. Their easygoing noise-folk pumps up the room, the backlit band members looking right at home as if playing some groovy underground club. The screeching feedback piercing the amps was almost at home amongst their slightly grungy tones, but was thankfully cleared up after a couple of songs and some fiddling of knobs by bassist Al Yamin. The broody four-string player was a fascinatingly softly spoken fellow, being put on the spot by Karvountzis to fill banter slots while the band tuned their instruments.

Soon We Won't Exist garnered a good reception, some singalong action and perked-up vibe from the Thursdayitis-ridden crowd members. Their unique sound is something that stays on your radar for a while. The cute name, the cute tunes, the painfully relatable lyrics and their easily distinguishable brand of indie-rock hybrid is vastly popular according to the reception of Easy.

The Belligerents are an interesting bunch, lead singer Lewis Stephenson's erratic dancing and skin-tight flare jeans a sight for sore eyes. Things got wild when they came onto the stage. A teddy bear danced in the front row, head banging happened, a boozed-up crowd with itchy feet scratching the dancefloor. The room saw more energy than it had all night.

Their stage presence is wonderfully weird, launching into tracks like Before, I Am and She Calls The Shots the way an overenthusiastic kid singing in his bedroom might.

Unique performers are a treasured rarity these days, as the music scene threatens a saturation of "manicured" sounds suited to festival circuits. Embrace weirdness. Weird music is great.