Live Review: Tiny Spiders, Undead Apes, Golden Bats, Green Nose

Hiding behind a partition, chiptune instrumentalist Green Nose kickstarts The Waiting Room festivities with an insanely addictive bevy of hip hop compositions that ought to come with a health warning. With a sound that sounds like Japanese Nintendo soundtrack cast-offs with excellently off-kilter vocal samples tacked on, and finishing with the strangest Beastie Boys megamix ever, this unique yet killer set sets the tone for the rest of the night.

Next up is Golden Bats, a one-man sludge metal army whose no frills approach fits his aesthetic perfectly. Backed by a drum machine that seems limited to stadium fillers, the axe-wielding somehow slides comfortably over the top and Geordie Stafford's reverb-heavy screams emanate desolate aggression in spades. There is no need for fleshing out, as these tracks settle like leaden dust and seep into every pore, never to let go.

Another swing of the pendulum sees frenetic punk hazards Undead Apes wreak havoc, their anarchic blend of Ramones and Descendents fare matched by witty repartee and effervescent cheer. The quartet tear through their set with boundless energy, complete with spirit fingers, and even showcase a new song that Adam Scott has his vocals reverbed for as the lyrics aren't written yet. Songs cover both albums, fly by at a relentless pace and leave you feeling used, abused, and proud of it.

Tonight is a special occasion, the much-awaited “official” debut vinyl album launch for Tiny Spiders, and (as always) they do not disappoint. Crashing forth with Harsh Mistress, the duo are melding into their own amorphous lifeform, such is their inseparability. Innez Tulloch's guitar is particularly fuzzed-out tonight, threatening to cave in people's inner ears, which isn't tempered by Cam Smith's maniacal drumming. Quasi-Spaghetti Western instrumental, Fresh Pots, is frenzied, sweat flies through the air, beers are accepted graciously from the crowd, and with the amount of flashbulbs going off it's akin to taking part in a zoo exhibit for musical baseness. Just when things feel at their straining point, Cajun Style pogos up the tempo once more, before A Stranger In The Alps turns the chaos into a murky blues quagmire of excessive noise. Clawing out of the wreckage with a pared-back Midnight Movie, it's this dip in tempo that proves to be the set's lynchpin, a fine song that also allows for a breather for the final push into the abyss. By the time the loudest pop song of 2012, Shoot The Rainbow Rays Out, pops up, the meltdown is complete.