Being a total hypocrite, I will often admonish music fans who wash their hands of a band before they even get to know their music. The hypocrite part kicks in when I do exactly the same thing and feel somehow justified in doing so. Case in point: Cold War Kids.

Due to the absolute caning that Triple J gave their tune about promising ‘my wife and children I’d never have another drink as long as I lived’ I backed away. I was over them before I even knew what I was supposed to be over. I gave an indifferent shrug as all my best friends, one by one, declared their total love and respect for the Californian quartet. However, when I found I had an opportunity to see Cold War Kids at one of my favourite venues, The Metro (ahem, Palace) I thought, hey it’s the least I can do – I’ll give them a chance. Maybe, just maybe, my friends are right.

Walking into the Palace on a particularly freezing Wednesday night was like walking into Thunderdome. Evidently, I had been to see pretty shit bands there before. I only assume this to be the case since this was the first time in recent memory that there were people absolutely everywhere I looked. Rings of them in the tiers looking down, a sea of them in front. We actually lined up for a shot at the smoking balcony for Christ’s sake.

We were drawn back out of that little coffin by the promising sounds of Delta Spirit. They had a wonderfully huge sound; well received by the crowd and one that touched the little commercial dial inside all of us. This was jangle jangle tambourines, John Fogerty-at-twenty-vocals, with heartfelt (Delta) spirit. Very infectious, sometimes with a surf guitar twinge, a harp, 60s bent. Bad luck to the people at Splendour who didn’t realise what they were missing there.

If the Delta’s front man had a distinctive vocal, of course it leaves little with which to describe Cold War Kid’s singer Nathan Willett. Initially thinking that it was this somehow grating voice that set me on edge, I was certainly not prepared to be blown away – in the best possibly way – when this guy opened up his voice box. The entire room was mesmerised and pulsated accordingly as Cold War Kids ripped through a killer set, rocking, screaming, playing their hearts out.

The sea of punters glowed yellow from the lights, which lit up the band just as deliciously, their hair and sweat and rage all backlit tremendously. It was almost like watching the mothership open the sliding doors onto the unsuspecting humans. Dynamic lyrics, engaging stage craft, passionate and totally exciting, an ocean of arms thrust forward with every ‘Too’ of the ‘Too, too, too, many times’ coming to a sweaty, spent culmination with everybody screaming ‘Hang me out to dry!’. And we all needed to be hung out to dry after that, let me tell you. In a word: brilliant.