Given the outcry at the closure of the Hopetoun Hotel earlier this year, and the slightly less anguished response to the Abercrombie’s imminent closing, it seemed only natural that people would flock to show support for one of Sydney’s most loved live venues as it too admits to financial struggles.

With doors opening at 6, and a first-in-best-dressed door policy, you’d likely imagine crowds snaking up Parramatta Road. However, minutes after the 6pm mark, the footpath was empty, and inside, the crowd was sparse.

Over the course of the night, the crowd swelled slowly. In the front room, a secondary stage had been erected in front of the regular entrance to cope with the six (count – œem, six) support bands. As they bashed on throughout the night, many of these supports garnered solid crowds as they wore their blues-rock influences loud and proud.

More popular was the alley adjacent, a perfect spot to enjoy the daylight-savings early evening sun with idle conversation and cold drinks. Once the sun set, spring’s chillier night crept in on a cool breeze, timed nicely to chase the outdoor stragglers in to see the headliners.

In the main room, as with the rest of the venue, the – œXmas Party’ theme was so understated you’d be forgiven for missing it entirely. I think there was some tinsel above the bar, and not a lot more. The lack didn’t really matter; no one was really into the Holiday Spirit, and the proliferation of atrocious moustaches made it hard to forget that it was still November.

Thankfully Mess Hall frontman Jed Kurzel, known for a bit of scruffy five o’clock shadow, had not succumbed to the Movember fever. If he had, however, he would probably still be untouchably cool. For the beginning of the show, Kurzel said nothing, but his poise and attitude spoke volumes. Something about the heft of his shoulders, the slouch at the hips sells confidence in a way that words never could. Needless to say, the women of the room were swooning from the word go.

Kurzel and Cec Condon are shockingly, thrillingly loud for so small a band. Even knowing this from experience wasn’t enough to prepare eardrums. The driving menace of My Villain pounded through every surface and body in the room from the first beat to the last, with Kurzel throwing a bit of feedback and noise into the song’s already ragged solo. Bare, also from the staggering new album For The Birds, took a slower turn, building from a hypnotically repeated riff and slowly, slowly building in scale and force until its final thrusts rattled fillings in teeth.

Nothing, however, could touch the thundering rendition of Keep Walking. For most of its length, it sprang with the same visceral conviction as on Devil’s Elbow, lashing out with a killer riff, but it became something greater when Kurzel and Condon abruptly turned left into My Disco territory, smashing at the same, singular beat with terrifying force.

After toying with the audience, threatening to withhold the release the song had so desperately demanded, Condon and Kurzel brought the house down on our heads. And we loved it.