Sydney band Cabins stayed true to one theme for the night – tom-heavy drum work designed purely to shake the floorboards and rattle the ribcage. They manage to buck the other prominent trend of the evening, though, with bassist Christopher the only representative of the wonders of the 4-string – and with three rock bands on display, that’s an impressive feat. It was all about the emotion, though, with front man Leroy hammering the point of the demon-in-my-soul shtick: shimmering and shaking along with the building tempos, often theatrically dropping to a knee during the climatic wave-breaking mid-song releases. First single Catcher In The Rye showcases the fuzzed out and spiky melody which, to these ears, harks back to simpler times of Urge Overkill and Tumbleweed.

Bridezilla are such an enigma of the Oz music landscape at the moment. The (almost) all-female line-up shuns the standard rawk persona with the gypsy-tinged saxophone and violin (foregoing the bass) and the ubiquitous tom-heavy drumming. It sounds enticing and, indeed, the almost whimsical and light interplay between saxophonist Millie Hall and violinist Daisy Tulley is a joy to watch as they lose themselves within each other’s melodies. While each brings an interesting tidbit, the parts don’t quite make the whole as a rather underwhelming and bland song structure bleeds one track with another, with few peaks and valleys to wrestle and challenge the listener. Sure, that may not necessarily be a death-knell, if interesting and witty lyrics were there to pull it through. But while singer/guitarist Holiday Sidewinder ’s vocal begins with a honey-dipped drawl, it quickly fades into a thin smoky rasp and she hardly enunciates enough to let the listener in. The result is a rather frustrating half-hour of insipid, wet sameness passing as quirky rock.

The heavy, striding rhythm of new single My Villain cues in The Mess Hall for a sweaty, dancy, ferocious set. The new album For The Birds has some bloody huge shoes to fill, following the success of 2007’s Australian Music Prize-winning Devil’s Elbow. And while it might fill those shoes nicely, it’s the live arena which is the great leveller of any rock band worth its salt – particularly one so proud of its rock-you-can-dance-to style. A packed Zoo floor is a mess of grooving bods, slightly confused as to whether to shake an ass or mosh, with some even attempting a little of both. It was all dancing in the dark for the first half-dozen tracks, though, before the lighting dude realised there were some knobs in need of a twiddling. The muddy and dense Bell was the only tune worthy of creative lighting, however, with the knob twiddler scampering almost as soon as the last cymbal crash. Strange.

The Mississippi delta blues of Tijuana 500 swaggered and swayed, before giving way to a roaring second half of the set. The call to arms of Pills from 2005’s Notes From A Ceiling peaked the foot-stomped, arm-raising audience, but City of Roses and set closer Keep Walking proved what this band is all about in a live sense – claustrophobic and unrelenting pulsating rock played to perfection. With such a peak, a short break was needed, before Cec settled himself back down behind his kit and Jed put a democratic call out for what was to make up the encore. A rather pitiful plea for slow songs from a small segment of the audience was drowned out by the gnashing cascade of toms beginning Lorelei, and an extended chaotic jam over that beautifully wry lick and lyric of 2003’s Lock and Load rounding out the night.