Live Review: The Cactus Channel & Sam Cromack, New Venusians, Frida

Winter has finally arrived in Brisbane, and Melbourne band Frida have taken full advantage of the sweater weather to rug up in their jumpers and jackets. The band are named after the famous Mexican artist, whose dreamy style works well as a suitable reference point in explaining the strong undercurrent of soul, blues, and jazz influences that are blended throughout their music.

Sydney six-piece New Venusians possess a similarly unassuming air. The group's music is beautifully performed and composed, and songs like Get Along and Keep Running keep heads bopping and toes tapping. However, it's hard not to feel sleepy on a Friday night, after a long week of work, when the band's jazzy rhythms are so peaceful and relaxing.

Thankfully, The Cactus Channel specialise in grandiose theatricality. They begin their set with two upbeat instrumental numbers, the latter of which has some synth stabs that are reminiscent of the Twin Peaks soundtrack.

Sam Cromack emerges from behind the red curtain on the stage as the band launch into I'm Not Ready To Relax. The horn section sound resplendent as Cromack swaggers and swoons through the song like it's the latest Bond theme.

The supergroup follow with two more songs from their collaboration, before treating the audience to a cover of Unknown Mortal Orchestra's Swim And Sleep (Like A Shark) and the sentimental Everything Is Right In Front Of Me.

Guitarist Lewis Coleman swaps roles with Cromack for the next song, which holds up just fine, but there's a sense of restlessness among the crowd throughout it, and again during Cromack's solo performance of Fourteen Pianos And A Horse Jawbone. It's a shame, because that song should be a national treasure.

Ball Park Music's Nihilist Party Anthem proves to be a potent antidote to the audience's restlessness, as they gets down like it's Saturday night. It's tempting to draw a link between this song and Do It For Nothing, which follows, although the latter seems to suggest a romantic transcension of the existential angst that drives the first.

Cromack takes the time to thank the hometown crowd for coming out, before gushing about Brisbane in general. He dedicates the next song, a cover of Neil Young's Out On The Weekend, to the friends he's spent summer nights with in Brisbane, before performing what turns out to be the evening's highlight. If you ever catch him at a karaoke bar, watch out for that man's Neil Young impression.

He wraps things up with Sorry Hills afterwards, and the band close the set with another untitled instrumental number, because they're goddamn professionals.