The night began slightly surreally at precisely cock rock o’ clock. The only Sydney based band of the evening, the decadently titled Kings, Queens and Fairytales, took to the stage. This three-piece started playing as if they were Robbie Williams at Wembley and didn’t let up for their entire set. They seem to struggle somewhere between genuine pride (“this is our 5th show ever!”) and self-delusion (“sing along if you KNOW THE WORDS!”).

There is no denying frontman Jamie Lindsay possesses a notably powerful voice – probably best described as Axl Rose crossed with Justin Hawkins on falsetto steroids. It’s impressive. Impressive doesn’t necessarily mean good, however. Unfortunately their sound mainly consists of clichéd glam rock elements. Essentially, Kings, Queens & Fairytales are a hair metal band without the hair – an almost Nordic sounding, Gunners/Queen crossbreed. However, they are a relatively new and somewhat interesting act. There may be hope for them yet. As musicians, they are unquestionably talented and solid. I just don’t know if they work as a unit.

The murmuring buzz of the crowd hit near fever pitch by the time drum-heavy Melbourne based quartet Sydonia hit the stage. Make no mistake about it – these guys are half the reason this show was completely sold out. Operatic on an epic scale without being overly theatrical, Sydonia’s material conveys an all encompassing sense of heartwrenching loss, sadness and regret. Vocals that swing between dreamy and guttural, intense simultaneous tribal percussion drumming that is interchanged frequently for some heavy guitar work – they are certainly a unique entity. Not in the least when three other musos (including one of the members of the headlining act) jump on stage and crowd around the aforementioned tribal drums, giving them a five-person bash-out that would surely eliminate the need for future anger management therapy.

Coasting effortlessly through their better-known songs, such as the beautifully melodic No Woman’s Land (the lyrics in which provided the title of Sydonia’s 2006 debut album – Given To Destroyers ) and the self-explanatory, rage filled nostalgia-fest Sorry, Sydonia defy perfect definitive description. They’re just so ethereal – so mind-blowingly, insanely cool. More incredibly, the crowd was moving in a slow, respectful almost-mosh for the entirety of the set, breaking only to clap and stare mouth agape some more. I only live in hope I can get my hands on lead singer Dana Roskvist’s silver text white t-shirt, that read ‘I Fucked the Chick From Sydonia’. Brilliant musicians with a wicked sense of humour.

It had been many a moon since yours truly had seen an Annandale crowd this excited. Grown men – drunk or no – were bouncing on the balls of their feet, clasping their hands together, or clapping lightly like five-year-old girls. I dunno what’s in the water in Melbourne, but I want to bathe in it. Victorian four-piece mammal are a band with a method to their genius madness. Frontman and vocalist Ezekiel (Zeke) Ox has risen phoenix-like from the ashes after a series of nasty events with his successful former band (Full Scale Deflection and later Full Scale) and triumphed, by being backed by the tightest, most unique sounding band he could have ever dreamed up for himself. Literally bursting onto the stage, mutton chops, peroxide and wife beater singlets akimbo, the mammal get their set off the ground with arguably their strongest track to date – Nagasaki in Flames.

Two things hit you about mammal. One: how much they make you want to burn up the dance floor. It wasn’t long until I was up on a bench seat, arms circling heavenward. Two: How fantastic the lyrics sound over the beats they’ve created. The vocals frequently alter between Zeke making semi-political rants written during the declining years of John Howard to spitting out an angry, cynical conversation with himself. All the while bassist Nick Adams, drummer Zane Rosanoski and guitarist Pete Williamson groove away, building a funk foundation strong enough to stack a skyscraper on.

Mammal are known for gee-ing up a crowd and getting a bit of chaos happening. There was crowd surfing. There was monkey-like Zeke strolling along the length of the bar from the stage, making all the ladies and some gentlemen swoon. There were members of other Sydney bands up on stage for a song, dancing, singing and a-movin’. There was a truly remarkable slap-bass solo from Mr Adams on the gyrate-with-a-mate-or-something-more friendly Inciting. The dirty slow beat of Push and Shove and the virtually indescribable Rage Against the Machine-influenced Smash the Pinata is a bit of an experimental exercise for the mammal. Unlike the ill-fated and never to be seen played live again Slaves (think the dreaded cock rock), Pinata is laden with genuine attitude. It’s smart, it’s fresh and there’s no one out there playing like the mammal at the moment.

At the track’s conclusion, the whole sound of the band implodes and melds together in the most spectacular fashion – it’s awesome controlled chaos. Finishing the set with their trademark track Hell Yeah went down better than chocolate gelato on a 40 degree day. Zeke calls it their “punchline” – and how! I’m sure the ensuing “HELL YEAHs!” as an answer to the question “CAN I GET A…?” set off some car alarms outside our boiling wintertime enclave. It was everyone’s last chance to shake their arses off with friends and strangers – and shake they did.

Once again, the ‘Dale had put on one amazing evening of live entertainment. If the merch sales and the clamouring crowds at the tiny desk at the show’s conclusion were anything to go by, you need to get yourself to mammal’s ‘Smash the Pinata’ tour going up the east coast until July 12. Can I get a “hell yeah”?