It was a risk. We all knew it as we marched into the latest Mecca of cool, the Oxford Art Factory. White Feather – as was obvious by this point – was the new line-up of Wolfmother put together by Andrew Stockdale. We were either about to witness one of the great comebacks of recent times, or a complete flop thanks to the foolish work of an egomaniac. Before we had anytime to ponder the recent events surrounding the demise of the original line-up, three Kiwis lined up on stage and tuned up their instruments. “Hi,” said the guitarist in a breathy, semi-awkward tone. “We’re Die! Die! Die! ”

Frontman Andrew Wilson had two modes – on the verge of psychopathic rage and, well, psychopathic rage. When he wasn’t chopping away at his battered old guitar, he threw it at an amp to create feedback for an entire song whilst his actual self was thrown into the crowd, often falling into people or onto the ground. Occasionally, bassist Lachlan Anderson would follow suit, but not even bowling over a couple of girls with a rather impressive skid could match the wild, beyond-hyper energy of Wilson.

Playing tracks from their first two records, the band also took a moment or two to showcase tracks from an upcoming, as-yet-untitled record; all of which was received fairly well by the gathering crowd. Whilst many took the time of the support act to hit the bar, the best place to be was in the thick of it, taking in some hugely exciting action from a band that knows how to put on a show. This was noisy, guttural, ruthless dance-punk at its finest. Well worth a look into the next time they tour…but certainly not for the faint-hearted.

The buzz after D!D!D!’s set was knife-cutting thick. However, it quickly died as the squashed in crowd waited…and waited…and then waited just a little more. After nearly 40 minutes of tuning guitars, “yeah, yeah, check” and placing set-lists everywhere (and then repeating the process seemingly for shits and giggles), three unknown figures emerged from backstage. Thus came the first shock of the night: the new line-up was a quartet. With a drummer that looked like Rusty Hopkinson, a guitarist that looked like Shane Nicholson and a bassist that looked like Donald – œDuck’ Dunn from the Blues Brothers, they strapped in and awaited their new leader.

Sure enough, out strode Andrew Stockdale, tonight sporting a hippie-ish headband and typical retro-rocking attire. With precious little fanfare, the band kicks straight into some new material. And so came the second shock of the night: the new stuff sounded good. Really good. Sure, we weren’t getting some kind of 180-degree reinvention of sound, but the riffs were infectious and well-played, the structures were rock-solid and Stockdale’s vocals maintained their strength from both record and tours past. He also snuck in a little organ playing alongside his lead vocal and lead guitar duties, showing a new-found versatility (or perhaps he’s become even more of a control freak; you decide).

Tracks from the self-titled record all easily whipped the crowd into a bopping, singing, shouting, sweaty mess. White Unicorn was an epic jam session, breaking down and building up in its middle section with psychedelic precision. Pyramid was given a blistering rendition, a new life breathed into it by means of the new line-up. Album opener (and subsequent first-set-closer) Colossal was a triumph, if only to finally hear the dual guitar lick executed properly live. “It’s great to be back and playing music, doing what we do,” Stockdale told the fortunate few in the crowd in-between tracks. Away from rock bravado, hit singles and massive shows of years gone by, he sounded shockingly genuine.

The new band members, too, appeared to be enjoying themselves…albeit not as confident to put it out there as much as their frontman. The bassist/keyboardist held down the rhythms with tightness and even a slice of virtuosity, the second guitarist following suit. The drummer was an absolute powerhouse, pounding out the colossal (pardon the pun) beats and fills which made former skinsman Myles Heskett look like Don Henley. Unfortunately, Stockdale only introduced them as “the band”, but you get the feeling that we’re going to be seeing a lot more of them in the not too distant future.

The night wrapped up with a rousing (if a little obvious) Joker and the Thief. After the big finale, Andrew bowled himself over in totally rock star fashion, making as much noise as possible, before taking off his six-string and thanking the crowd one last time. An intimate show with a well-known Australian rock band on a new lease of life was proof enough for the couple hundred in the venue that some risks are worth taking.