Live Review: Vista Chino, Dead

With only a handful of punters rocking up early, Dead take to the stage unassumingly and get to work testing 170 Russell's bass bins. With a name that wouldn't be out of place as the moniker for a band producing the blackest of Norwegian metal, Dead are a band that defies classification: two blokes – one on bass, the other on drums – pumping out some quality noise that grinds the ears and melts the face in equal measure. Dead are a deafening, challenging listen that grips like a strangling psychopath and doesn't let go until the death rattle. By the set's end there are a few more stoner-rock fans meandering in and the band has one flanno-sporting headbanger at the stage barrier giving it the old heave-ho.

Vista Chino casually stroll out onto the stage amid cheers that rise in gusto when ex-Kyuss members John Garcia and Brant Bjork take their places behind the mic and drums. Easing into the set with the mid-tempo Adara, taken from last year's Peace album, it's a relief to hear Garcia hitting every note as the band locks into a solid groove. With only one album on the shelves, Vista Chino's set could potentially be a short one, but all in attendance have come to hear the band hopefully blast out some Kyuss, and from the opening guitar bend of next track, One Inch Man, the faithful are instantly rewarded.

Dargona Dragona is stoner-rock done right: fast, chugging blues that gets the pistons of the heart pumping and bodies flailing. The instantly recognisable drumming intro to the Kyuss classic, Hurricane, is joyously lapped up by all in the pit. Special mention must be made of Brant Bjork's drumming, which along with being nothing less than on point features the facial expressions of a man abandoning himself to the beats.

Garcia is relaxed tonight, taking moments out to get himself what looks like the odd bourbon, which he uses to respectfully toast the crowd. Fellow band members – Mike Dean on bass and Bruno Fevery on guitar – prove a worthy fit, with the pressure on Fevery especially to perform, given he's essentially filling the considerable boots of some guy called Josh Homme on the Kyuss tracks.

The rest of the set is a good mix of the timeless old with the new, and once the 90-minute show is over nobody can argue that the band didn't deliver some fine quality meat and potatoes.