Photo: Justin Edwards

It's a welcome surprise to see The Busymen first onstage tonight, it being nearly a year since they were there last by my estimation. Singer Boston Bob seems a little less enthused than usual, but still a rambling joy to watch. They still need a bit of a push though – I understand the whole minimalist drumming thing, but sometimes I get the impression that more complex, harder rhythms would really give them a bit of extra spark. Despite this, the band still deliver a solid set of primo vintage garage to the rapidly filling room.

A quick trip to the bar and the wonderful Vegas Kings are up next. They're, as expected, touting their usual set of no-horseshit rock & roll blues – recalling artists like the Dirtbombs, Blues Explosion and Brisbane's own Standing 8 Counts – and as expected, it's a blinder. Guitarists/singers Ben and Pete, along with drummer Angus, belt out recent favouites like Great Ape and Hail with almost laser-guided, sweaty precision, but still manage to remain primal, dangerous and slightly shambolic. Undoubtably, one of Australia's best (and loudest) live acts.

So, last time The Bellrays were in town, they were here supporting our own punk granddaddies, Radio Birdman, and I hate to say it, but those boys were nuts booking Lisa Kekaula and co. as an opening act. Well, they were good then, and they're even better tonight – they're obviously more comfortable doing a smaller show of their own. They're here in aid of their new album, Have A Little Faith. However, the show tonight encompasses both old and new – we have recent funk-soul number, Tell the Lie, rubbing shoulders with live favourite, Blues For Godzilla, a garage howler which can be found on 1998's Let It Blast. But none of that matters – to be honest, I wasn't really paying that much attention to the set list and I don't think anyone else really was either. I don't want to sound histrionic, but this band is probably the best working, genuine rock & roll band in the world at the moment. Imagine a soul band covering the history of the Detroit rock & roll scene, with Aretha Franklin centre stage, busting some moves with a sweet 'fro and masses of body glitter. Lisa Kekaula – what a frontwoman. She'd send most singers whimpering to their mums. Jonny Rotten would pee his pants.

JEAN NICOTINE

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