Live Review: Velorciraptor, Bloods, Woodboot, The Jensens

Local upstarts The Jensens kick off with a polished set of catchy and fully-realised indie pop to get the ball rolling.

Their retro attire speaks volumes and the way that all five members seem to really feel the hook-laden music and get involved is contagious, and while it’s older tracks like Shark Thunder and Sick Sad World that elicit the most response from the dancers up front, a couple of new ones they air auger very well for the future.

Between them the four members of Woodboot are in more bands than most people have had hot dinners, and it’s probably the most abrasive outfit for some (but not all) of them.

As they take turns at vocals it’s all frantic and snarling and ramshackle, an unrelenting spray of invective shrouded in near indecipherable vocals and pounding guitars. It’s over all too fast but a ton of fun.

Sydney trio Bloods are the sole interstate interlopers tonight and don’t disappoint, delivering an unwavering slew of catchy garage-pop nuggets. With two equally-talented vocalists – guitarist Marihuzka Cornelius and bassist Sweetie Zamora – there’s plenty of diversity, and tracks like Into My Arms and new single Want It have the packed house eating out of their sweaty palms.

By now the only vestige of space left anywhere is onstage, but that too is quickly usurped as multi-limbed Brisbane behemoth Velociraptor cram into the fray and commence with a frenetic burst of action, the infectious familiarity of Hey Suzanne and Riot bringing the party from the get-go. The ten-strong band form in little clusters around the microphones and spit harmonies into each others’ faces like only good mates can, frontman Jeremy Neale twitching and contorting as he leads his bandmates into the fracas.

New track Robocop shows off the indubitable chops of the self-titled debut album that’s being celebrated tonight, and the new and old Raptor material segues together perfectly, while it’s remarkable how tuneful the cacophony from six guitars can actually be when done right. The ever-catchy The Walk On By gives way to Cool Baby Cool, and then drummer George Browning swaps roles with Neale and tackles the absent James X Boyd’s tracks Do The Ruby and Mystery Man with aplomb.

There’s a ton of love in the room and everyone is having a blast; the languid Sneakers and early-Libertines vibe of The Right To Call You rock the house, Bloods’ Zamora returns to add vocals to One Last Serenade and Monster Mash – which has Si Ridley crowd-surfing with his axe – and then Cynthia and Ramona finish things off with zest, half the crowd now partying onstage with the band in a big potpourri of smiles and riffage. Goofy, guitar-laden, grin-inducing, garage-pop greatness.