Live Review: Tropical Fuck Storm, Calm;y, Nerve Quakes

Nerve Quakes turned their 8.30pm slot back to 1983 with a cold front of neo-Goth tunes. Vocalist Charlotte Thorne apologised for the effects her cold was having on her singing, which were negligible, as their tight and tidy rhythms propelled squalling guitar and a chilly impenetrability.

Calmly's nuanced performance was one that found beauty out of desolation through subtle pauses, echoes and silence. They expressed some regret that the order of their setlist necessitated tuning between each song, causing some momentum to be lost, but, with their debut album close to completion, this warmly received performance indicated that they may be on the cusp of fulfilling their potential.

Whereas there was something of a novelty about the new line-up, a sense of fun even, at Tropical Fuck Storm's Perth Festival show in February, tonight was marked by an uncompromising intensity. This was the black stuff alright, with an edge of viciousness that grew more blatant as the show progressed. It might be that Gareth Liddiard's motivation for kickstarting Tropical Fuck Storm was to have weird, angular music to match the weird, angular shapes he throws his body into when playing a guitar solo; with arms at angles of extreme incidence and knees ready to buckle. His commitment to tonight's performance of Taman Shud by The Drones was total, with eyes flashing like tracer bullets across the room. It drew howls of appreciation from the crowd, which Liddiard rebuffed, insisting with a sneer that they were just warming up. By comparison, the Fiona Kitschin-led cover of Divinyls' Back To The Wall offered some breathing space, illustrating that Liddiard's continued retention of her may not just be because they're kindred spirits, but because musically she offers something entirely different from him.

Choosing an overall highlight was hard: Soft Power was brutal, You Let My Tires Down devastated, the cover of Stayin' Alive was so desperate it made you wonder whether Bee Gees were once inhabited by evil spirits and their closing rendition of The Drones' Baby² was so wild and reckless that the studio version seemed lifeless by comparison. Amid the chaos of the final bars, Liddiard flipped his guitar over his head, caught it behind his back and continued to ruthlessly abuse the instrument. At times it was a performance so mesmerising, it might just justify Liddiard mothballing The Drones in order to pursue Tropical Fuck Storm full time.