Imagine a high school concert band on free-dress day, then imagine that they liked playing together so much that they stayed together after school had finished, and began playing at the ref at uni, in costumes… Imagine they all discovered drugs and sex and still liked each other, and began to make records… then look at Institut Polaire, and wonder if the days of the three piece band are over…

As impressive as The City Watch are to hear, they are slightly distressing to see; they look uncomfortable holding their instruments, and appear too young to be taken seriously, but they should be, because they are good.

As noted in the past, The Bakery has a knack for butchering the sound inside the venue, however, from the outside, they were most impressive. It would be excellent to see vocalist Brad Wetherall come out from behind his guitar, and show audiences what he can do with his voice when that’s all he has to focus on. He has a truly awesome voice, and the band has so many musicians; surely Wetherall doesn’t also need to try to play as well as sing?

The second support act was the gorgeous Sydney conglomeration, Cuthbert and the Nightwalkers. This is an example of what might happen to a school band when someone studies promotions and advertising.

In the most adorable cliché possible, the band has a pile of cute girls dressed up in sweet costumes, who sing flawlessly, occasionally bending over to change instruments or such like, just in case the music didn’t hold your attention. This band was having so much fun that the audience couldn’t help joining in, and at least half of the faces in the crowd ended the set aching from grinning. Everyone in the room wanted to go to that after-party. Look around you, Cuthbert seems to say, appreciate the fun and the depth in the mundane, and celebrate it, don’t overthink it.

After two bands in a row with over 6 members each, it became necessary to test whether some bizarre temporal shift had plunged the Perth music scene into a folk/sixties/indie-pop universe, so the cross-town sprint to the Rocket Room between sets was made, to catch the Order of the Black Werewolf. It seems that bands in this universe don’t take themselves seriously anymore.

On a tiny stage, mostly taken up by the drum kit, cavorted a guitarist and a bassist clearly in love with their music, clearly forgetful, and acutely aware, without letting it upset them, that only ten of the patrons were paying any attention. Their loss.

Those who were watching would have heard how bass is supposed to be played, may have scratched their heads trying to figure out what kind of music this was, and laughed and the facial expressions he pulled as Anthony tried to remember the new song that they were already half way through. Anyone who sees these guys play wishes they would play for longer.

Back at the Bakery, there was just time for one more drink before Institut Polaire crowded the stage. In the short time between sets, the size of the crowd had doubled, and now it was crowded and hot both inside and outside of the venue. With so many more people in the room to absorb the sound, the mix sounded much nicer when this band played.

Institut Polaire has been attracting arts students around Perth for many years now, however since Triple J discovered them in 2007, they have been attracting an audience as diverse as its influences. Taking a chip from every genre you can think of to create a stunning mosaic of sound, adding a new member when they find they have too much room to move on stage, this band makes you let go of all pretensions and expectations and spring about like a hippy flowerchild who has had too much red cordial.

As if the stage wasn’t already crowded enough, they had members of their support acts up on stage for the finale, which, considering there were so many of them, was surprisingly tight.

With songs at once honest, yearning and beautiful, Institut Polaire is a banquet of ideas, perfectly articulated in sound. When they lived in Perth, they were playing somewhere every weekend, and you could see them as often as you liked, but now they live in Melbourne, so you will need to pay attention, or you will miss out next time around.

The days of the three-piece rock band are not over, The Bakery’s bill on Saturday was a blip, a welcome anomaly of original music to introduce you to your discomfort zone in the nicest possible way.