Here’s
everything you need to know about Perth’s Young Revelry: they’re
young, they’re rocking and they’re dreadfully boring. Kicking off
proceedings at the Annandale with roughly fifteen people looking on,
the quartet played their grunge-by-numbers with plenty of gusto but
never enthused their audience beyond a tapping foot or a slight nod
of the head in time with the splashing 4/4 rhythm. What was on
display here was a band that has hardly developed beyond jamming in
their garage, thrashing through poorly developed tracks that were
seemingly accentuated only by a stomp on a foot pedal. They may have
travelled all the way from Western Australia for this tour, but
they’ll need much more of an identity in their music in order to
differentiate themselves from every other band barely out of high
school that are plaguing your local band comp. Watch this space, but
don't hold your breath.

Despite
having one of the most generic names in Australian music history,
Numbers Radio do a rock show that's far from generic. It's ballsy,
it's pounding and it's a whole world of fun, and you really can't ask
for much more. The trio invited the gradually-growing audience closer
to the stage, and with each galloping rendition of full-speed
alt-rock from both their debut album and their upcoming EP, the
invitation was hard to refuse. Numbers Radio are the kind of act that
not only know exactly what the other's next move will be, they're
also fully engaged with their respective instruments – David Orr
churns out the piercing, radiating riffs, while Robbie Carlyon pounds
the bass with a Nick Oilveri-esque force and Mark Henman lets his
upper limbs flail about the drumkit like a human reincarnation of
Animal from The
Muppet Show
There was grinning, headbanging, singing along and even a couple of
enthusiastic moshers piling on top of one another. Was it just your
meat-and-potatoes style of rock? Sure – but it's one of the
better-cooked meals Australian rock is currently offering. If Young
Revelry can't learn from these guys how to put on a show, there's no
hope for them.

By
now, Calling All Cars have perfected their performance style. Whether
it's ANZ Stadium or the Annandale, you can always rely on the
Melbourne three-piece for an evening of slick, engaging rock &
roll fun. That's what we paid for, and that is exactly what was
delivered. Showcasing the finer points of their debut album,
Hold,
Hold, Fire

the band charged through each track with force and vitriol aplomb.
Irrepressible frontman Haydn Ing howls down his microphone before
quickly shifting focus to centre stage. Other favourite ports of call
were the top of brother James' drum riser, and the connecting bar on
the left side of the stage, where he scored plenty of free alcohol
and got the crowd even more excited than before. O, the places you'll
go with a wireless guitar.

The
band might not be exploding on commercial radio, but the band's
singles were received with the kind of rapturous enthusiasm normally
reserved for the reigning royalty of the airwaves. From the bouncing
“Runaway” to the 'you sing this part' call-and-response of “Not
Like Anybody,” Calling All Cars have assembled quite the exciting
catalogue. It's naturally nothing new from a musical perspective, but
it's the unequivocal evidence that the band thrives upon their live
shows which makes the world of difference. In addition to a snippet
of brand new material, the band also threw in a very enjoyable
rendition of the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club favourite “Whatever
Happened to My Rock & Roll?” It's a valid question, too, even
after all these years – not about rock & roll in general,
because the 'my' is suggestive of the personal. Rock music still
lives and breathes through every last bar in the country, but very
few acts are doing it with the kind of love, passion and
all-systems-go energy that Calling All Cars are. Why? Who knows. For
now, let's just enjoy what these guys have to offer.