The last time Death From Above 1979 played in Melbourne, they were simply called Death From Above. This reviewer recalls an intensely hot and sweaty mid-2004 show at Collingwood’s 101 – one of the best shows of the year. But now the band’s added the ‘1979’ suffix, got some NME kudos, released a fantastic debut album – You’re A Woman, I’m A Machine – and to boot, they’re playing the considerably larger Ding Dong Lounge in Melbourne’s CBD on their tour in support of said album.

Brisbane’s The Grates open up proceedings to a small crowd. Their EP launch for The Ouch. The Touch. at The Tote the week prior will go down as one of my favourite local shows of 2005. And once again tonight they’re tight, they’re energetic and they jump around with massive grins on their faces like they can’t believe they’re getting paid to do this. Radio favourites Trampoline, Sukkafish and Rockboys all receive an enthusiastic response but it’s the band’s unreleased material that truly impresses – Science Is Golden, 6 Gone and 19 20 20 are all wonderful Pavement-esque two minute pop songs. Lead singer Patience tells the crowd that it’s good to once again be playing in Melbourne, and closing with a frenetic version of current radio single Message, the band once again proves that they’re fast becoming one of the best live bands in the land. Judging from the set, they’ve already got enough tracks for a killer debut album. Keep an eye out.

Speaking of formidable live acts, in the many months since I last saw Adelaide’s Wolf & Cub they seem to have transformed into a massive-sounding rock’n’roll beast. The dual drummer setup suits the band’s heavy primal rock perfectly, and the intricate guitar lines – which recorded sound so hard to replicate live – are carried out with ease. Singer Joel Byrne announces, “this is our first real tour.. we’ve done three shows in three cities.. and we’re already fucked – fucking pathetic!” before launching into Thousand Cuts. Tracks from the band’s debut, self-titled release get a great reponse and the band’s new material – heavy on experimentation and crazy freak-out extended solos – indicates that there’s a huge amount of potential. The recorded material is very good – but as soon as they can translate their booming live show into a studio setting, they’ll release a killer album.

And now here’s Death From Above 1979. Jesse F. Keeler and (a newly short-haired and clean-shaven) Sebastien Grainger wander on stage with the aim to deafen the crowd. And deafen they do, even people standing at the back of the not-so-small Ding Dong – those amps must go up to 11. There’s no secret to the popularity of DFA1979 – they play heavy, thumping rock’n’roll, and they play it very, very well.

Sebastien abandons the drumkit he’s been thrashing the life out of and takes centre stage for an extended version of personal favourite track Romantic Rights. Following a comment about “Mel-born” (but remember, “we’re Canadian – not American, you bitch!”), he greets a heckler’s indecipherable comment with “Jet who? Don’t you mean Iggy Pop? Don’t you mean The Beatles? Don’t you mean AC/DC?” before tearing into Blood On Our Hands. Everyone cheers and one of the boys standing near me who has been dancing on top of a couch falls off it. It’s that sort of show.

I’m trying to keep my head and my feet still – I’m tired and have had too many late nights – but the bass is positively pulsating throughout the entire room and my efforts go in vain. The screamfest of Pull Out is surely responsible for several neck-spasm injuries, and album tracks like Going Steady and Go Home, Get Down are delivered with such ferocity that you can’t help moving. Or dancing. It’s astounding that this wall of noise is being created by just two people.

The set is understandably heavy on tracks from You’re A Woman… and the album’s raw feel translates wonderfully into a live setting. One enthusiastic fan even jumps on stage for a photo opportunity with Sebastien before the band’s even left the stage following the hour-long set. Of course, Sebastien obliges. Death From Above 1979 = the band of the people.

Everyone goes home with ringing ears and throbbing headaches. Over a late breakfast at a cafe the following morning, I can still feel it. Not that it’s a problem, of course – at the opposite end of the spectrum to the harp, flute, brass-lovin’ Polyphonic Spree and their show earlier this year, Melbourne might have seen two of the best gigs of the year already. We’re spoilt, we are.