Live Review: Usurper Of Modern Medicine, Docotorpus, Mudlark, Rabbit Island, Gunns - The Bakery

Advertised as a party with all of their friends, Usurper's album launch kicked off with psych-pop distortion wizards Gunns. Whilst plenty of superlatives applicable here – in regards to their sunburst guitar effects, rumbling bass grooves, etc – were to some extent interchangeable with numerous other Perth bands in these post-Tame Impala times, what gives Gunns' surfer blues an edge is their acid-cracked vocals and snappy melodies.

The glacial-paced compositions of Rabbit Island brought The Bakery to a standstill, as lynchpin Amber Fresh's sequins sparkled like rubies under the spotlights. Nervy but persuasively vulnerable, Fresh's unease somehow added to the intimacy as her iridescent melodies glimmered like the dying embers of a midnight bonfire.

Perhaps inspired by Lightning Bolt's visit last year – who Usurper Of Modern Medicine supported – instrumental duo Mudlark played a floorshow. Set up in the centre of the room on an opulent Eastern-themed rug, their guitarist explored many layers of oceanic reverb over the drummer's nimble rhythms. A little disjointed and groping for direction initially, the duo hit their stride as their set built provoking spontaneous whoops from the circle of onlookers.

Loud and loose, Doctopus staggered through a disoriented, bleary and cheerfully confrontational set.  Their rambunctious stage manners and heavy lumbering suggested they would legally be unable to operate automobiles let alone stringed instruments. All part of their act? Maybe, but the crowd cared little, as the front rows cavorted and experimented in new forms of dirty dancing.

Having just laid down definitive versions of their oeuvre on wax, Usurper Of Modern Medicine threw the kitchen sink into their performance, nailing their opening numbers with such force that it seemed the mixing desk had trouble processing the vast and erratically fluctuating range of frequencies being thrown at it. More space rock explorers than a dance band per se, they nonetheless inspired dense swathes of high-energy frotting amongst the masses. Commanding this intergalactic disco, Steven Hughes' aggressive sashays across the stage in front of trippy aquamarine images were the visual focal point to a joyous set where new favourites, Deadreamers and Panacea, bled into synapse-reordering gems such as Tangent Man. It was a triumphant close to the first chapter of a band who are signposting – and perhaps with a little more exposure piloting – the future of space rock.