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It’s possibly passe to bleat about the differences or lack thereof between Harry James Angus ‘s musical incarnations. However, when the live band is basically a brass-less The Cat Empire minus an enigmatic front man, the comparisons are forefront. A packed and sweaty gig at The Zoo was even reminiscent of The Cat Empire’s earlier work, particularly in regards to audience adoration and zeal.

Mama Kin attempted to warm the already steamy room with tales of romance and heartache. The three-piece, centred on roots singer Danielle Caruana, traversed through some moving tales, often regaling the audience with long stories to introduce those tales. Danielle’s earnest delivery and almost naive enthusiasm was at times endearing, despite some audience members openly disagreeing. She highlighted her impressive vocal chords on current single Tore Out My Heart, evoking images of a young and powerful Natalie Merchant in her prime.

After a short break, a five minute lyric-less building epic of a jam signaled a call to prayer in the urban jungle, which was answered by the disciples in the room with raised arm dancing and twisting gyrations barely on the legal side of a classification ban.

As far as side projects go, the Jackson Jackson touring band couldn’t have been more of a deviation from the player’s day jobs, with all members appearing to rejoice in their different roles. Strapping on the white ‘Strat, hip hop producer Jan Skubiszeweski fulfilled every boys’ rock God dreams, pulling the poses and guitar-faces like a well-worn, vodka-fuelled enfant terrible. The mid-set cracking of explosive single Devil In Me allowed Skubiszeweski to make his mark and prove he was more than just chord strumming, directing the end-of-song deviations which took the song into uncharted territory.

The Cat Empire’s rhythm section Ryan Munro on bass and Will Hull-Brown on drums seem content to fritter away in the background, barely noticing that the spotlight shone on them only fractionally compared to their regular highlights. The shift from Latin-lovers to pop sensibility seemed an easy move, with both members reveling in the droning repetition and building structure of the songs.

The most stark role change, however, was front-man Harry Angus’s metamorphosis from the hyperactive, trumpet wielding sidekick in The Cat Empire to a muted, emotional crooner with an almost unaffected air. Sans brass and without the security blanket of enigmatic front man Felix Riebl to work beneath, Angus seemed slightly distant and cold throughout. Early set bombasts All Alone and Looking So Hard For Love highlighted his vocal range and an impressive ear for hooks, but with a delivery teetering between eyes-closed apparent euphoria and barely concealed boredom, he left a rather confused impression. Sure, his cheeky and almost self-deprecating lyrics continued – Society of Bad Dancers from 2007’s Fire Is On The Bird was particular biting of his own hip-swaying inability – but they were delivered in such a way as to hint at a growing cynicism and left a decidedly bitter taste.

Keyboard legend Ollie Brown, however, was probably the least affected by the sonic change of direction. Clearly the centrepiece for The Cat Empire, Brown continued that focus with Jackson Jackson, but took it up a notch with the synth-led sound. At times shielded behind a tower of synths and keys, Brown highlight the troubled genius persona – never more-so than his regular jaunts to the front of the stage to squeeze and strangle cleverly bended notes out of the simply stunning keytar.

Despite my initial concern, I swiftly relinquished my assumptions about the apparent lack of ‘cool’ of this 80s revivalist instrument and gave myself heartily to all Brown was throwing out there. Taken in isolation, I found it hard to express my new-found love for this much-maligned instrument, upon hearing what Brown was able to do with it, that love was completely justified. Love Man from last year’s Tools For Survival perfectly spotlighted how integral his multi-key approach was with the live interpretation. Set closer Eliza continued the love affair with Brown’s genius, and when encore Intelligent, Evolved And Insane devolved into an extended keys solo ending while the rest of the band retired, I was completely transfixed and baying for more.