All hail the Annandale Hotel! Not only is it arguably the best live music local in Sydney, they are truly outdoing themselves every Sunday this month, with the free Jagermeister Live Loud showcase.

Six bands, two stages, three bars. Sweet. The cool little foyer (which is usually the main entrance) is blocked off and blacked out from the outside world experiencing a slow daylight savings sunset. It is here, in the inner west’s most elongated comfy lounged arena, that NSW Southern Highlands 5 piece The Ringleaders take to the ever-so-slightly elevated stage. Looking like a bunch of mish-mash troubadours, they quickly prove themselves to be incredibly accomplished young musicians. The violin, synth drums, tambourines atop hi-hats, several guitars and a keyboard all feature on tracks that soar, wail and freestyle into psychadelic Lizard King territory. The band keeps up an enthusiastic, frenzied, instrument-swapping pace of Arcade Fire proportions. The adding of a string instrument to each of their tracks was a brilliant move – and there is a great deal to be said for the beautiful violinist who plays so stoically yet serenely, perfectly balancing out the whimsical, evangelical, slightly mental energies of keyboard, synth drum, guitar and vocal tag team Josh Gorman and Cal Callaghan. Deserving of a big record deal and a later time slot than 6:10pm.

Next up on the trusty main stage of this hallowed establishment was South Australian lads Former Child Stars. These guys are relatively new on the scene, yet have garnered a lot of praise for their live shows and their poperiffic hook-laden tunes. However, it felt to this reviewer as though the quintent from Adelaide has jumped on The Strokes bandwagon many years too late, stopping by Franz Ferdinand land and scraping out whatever’s left in the bottom of the abandoned barrel of The Darkness – quite forgetting to grab a falsetto or two. It is certainly not that this long haired bunch of larrikins are terrible – far from it. It is obvious from the joyous manner in which they play that they don’t take themselves too seriously; and their guitar and key heavy set is entirely watchable. There is simply nothing particularly new nor enthralling about this band. They produce a big sound that unfortunately tended to overwhelm them in this setting.

Retreating from the main stage to the makeshift RJ’s back bar once again, mine eardrums barely had time to recover before the ever entertaining Sydney indie legends Peabody took to the stage with purpose – to excite and deafen. The little room was packed to the rafters as the band put on what was close to the tightest, most cohesive set of the night. Playing a bunch of newbies, there is a noticeable improvement in singer Bruno Brayovic’s voice from days of yore (aka 2002/3). Standout tracks included Devil For Sympathy (incidentally also the title of their latest album) and the almost entirely instrumental then blisteringly punchy Buzzard Vs. Ibis . There is a real sense of this band having found their feet, and they’ve hit the ground so fast their soles are on fire. There wasn’t a moment of this set I wasn’t more than happy to have a dance or thrash around – something EVERYONE when all four members maniacally played each of their instruments in perfect, supremely tumultuous delirium. Throwing the guitars around (but not enough to break them, heaven forbid!) at the end of the set didn’t even seem as wankerish as it does with so many other bands; in fact its absence would have been fairly disappointing.

Stopping at the main bar vying for beer like a marathon runner desperately in need of water, I then wove my way through the thickening crowd to view the set about to be given by another group of indie heroes – Sydney’s The Devoted Few. Apparently this group haven’t played live together for some time, and unfortunately it did show. Despite building up a huge fanbase and displaying some great songwriting skills and musicianship; not a single member looked very enthused to be on stage. They were also not helped along by the fact the backing vocals and the percussion section were seemingly drowned out by the guitars and drums. Which is a crying shame, because keyboardist Skye Knight is generally a pleasure to view and listen to. There were a few shining moments in this set however, one of them being a song called Frosty Furnaces (from upcoming album Baby, You’re a Vampire )- which was delivered with more attitude than you can poke an eyeliner pencil at. According to singer/guitarist Ben Fletcher it was written about the U.S. indie rock band The Fiery Furnaces who were “total insert a word Jane Fonda is fond of”. Some old favourites were also trotted out such as 2004’s Counting Cars , which had the die hards at the front boppin’ along. It was more the case of a great band having a patchy day – and it’s entirely forgivable because it is an understatement to say The Devoted Few possess major songwriting chops.

For the remainder of the night, the two headliners shared the main stage and the punters were raring. Which is what happens when it’s a Sunday, people have been drinking since 6 and there’s dirty blues in the air. These dirty blues seemed to materialise on stage with the emergence from out of the green lights of Matt Hutchinson, the lead singer and guitarist for the Whiskey Go Gos. A wretched, yet beautifully melodic solo acoustic song was soon followed by an amazingly stellar set that had the whole room jivin’ like we was in Alabama during Prohibition. There has been a fairly recent line-up change in the Whiskey camp – although you could never tell, such was the power raw dynamics between the three members. Barely stopping for breath, only ever halting momentarily to attach his Dylan-style harmonica to his mouth; Hutchinson huskily pours out tale after tale of heart wrenching grief, love, loss and the never ending search for contentment in a world filled with all of the above. Toe tappin’ tracks (from off their amazing debut album Proud Tales To Them Of Us ) such as Rodeo and 2 Cent Girl are delightfully odd, lyrically, to begin with then sucker punch you in the gut when you realise he is relaying something quite brutally and brilliantly honest. (Eg: “I take one step forward and two steps back – I keep wandering round in circles lookin’ for my father”). Gob smacking harmonies mixed in with a healthy *Flaming Lips*eque sense of the absurd made for extraordinarily entertaining viewing. The Whiskey Go Gos are no doubt going to leave more and more of an impression on the live scene as they progress – I highly recommend you check them out asap. Many aspects of what they do are indescribable – the blues, nay, GREAT blues is food for individual the soul, and I was completely stuffed by the time the Whiskeys had to go go.

A nice kip and a cup of tea were unfortunately not on the cards for I yet. However, everyone should be willing to sacrifice a small pleasure such as that for the significantly greater pleasure of seeing Sydney’s The Fumes live. Never have I known a band to improve on such a consistent level – a mean feat considering they’ve been fantastic since they began carving up the live scene in 2004.

Let me stress one thing: The Fumes are a two piece band. This may seem like a curious statement. But when a two piece act can make a noise that rivals a freight train smashing into a stationary Boeing 707 that immediately catches alight and explodes – it deserves a mention. It warrants even more of a mention when they still make you wana shake it like you don’t have work tomorrow, and may never again. Raw, uncompromising and exceptionally in sync with one another; guitarist/singer Steve Merry and drummer Joel Battersby send the crowd absolutely bananas; all the while hinting they’ve actually got plenty more to give than they have to the world of filthy blues and rock thus far. It’s beyond titillating as they break out a range of old favourites from their brilliant debut album Guns Of Gold , and some stunning new tracks. Warming the crowd up with two new tunes, the duo then launch head on into one of their never-fail crowd pleasers – Automobile. The beat is a strong, steady, sexy beast of a thing, complemented and then driven by Merry’s measured, chunky, and finally frenetic strumming. He quite simply plays the guitar as though it’s as easy to him as breathing, possibly easier. He displays his unquestionable talent on two solo acoustic tracks he performs, much to the delight of many a person in a darkened corner who has taken to swaying. Atlanta Rising and Mystery Belle are both standouts of the set, particularly the latter which speaks of “true story” of the perils of working out at sea and reaching his love again. By the end of the set, the crowd was well and truly sloppy from the hours and hours of grouse entertainment, and I saw my first semi-violent Fumes moshpit, for the fast-paced, big riff number Tell Ya Story Walkin’. Battersby amazes during this song. He hits the drums like he’s playing for his eternal salvation – a human metronome with arms of steel.

I left the ‘dale tired yet so musically satisfied I did not entertain the idea of the fast food restaurant across the road. Many a convert was made this ‘eve, to the power of the dirty blues rock times infinity. As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be.