The Annandale Hotel was bracing itself for a main-act onslaught, but the running order began in a more restrained manner as The Exiles opened this evening’s proceedings with a set of alt.country-flavoured tunes. In itself, that’s not particularly noteworthy – alt.country is a genre that anyone with a grasp on country and an appreciating of laid-back feel can make inroads in – but The Exiles brought something special to the formula. Largely, it was the fact that the band had only played one gig before this one. Given that this evening’s set was their first pre-announced appearance, it was pretty much taken as read that this was their debut, and it must be said that the band handled such a nerve-wracking event with style. The tunes played evoked dusty, hazy plains, while flame-haired vocalist and guitarist Kym-Louise hid any early-history nerves behind a mask of slow-burning smoulder.

It’s rumoured that the band have a year of rehearsal under their belts. If that’s true, it certainly paid off tonight, with slide guitars and spidery melodies coalescing into something noteworthy, much more than you’d expect from a group with such a small history of public performance. A spirited cover of Tom Waits’ Hang On St Christopher (replete with horn section) left no doubt that The Exiles will pique punters’ interest in the future. Waits covers are notoriously difficult to pull off, and the fact that this group could do so without sounding lame is testament to their talents. They’re worth checking out, particularly while their list of public appearances are in single digits: this is a band for whom the potential’s palpable.

The Booby Traps weren’t quite as stylishly outfitted as when I’ve seen them previously, but their live set cut as sharply as ever. Before the muscular buggerising of headliners SixFtHick, though, they provided the perfect fuzzy-bassed palate-cleanser. Crowd favourites such as Peepin’ Tom and Caveman littered a set full of memorable pop. Vocalist Carrie played the set from an unimpeachable eyrie of cool; whether banging her tambourine or just grooving during instrumental moments, she provided the focus for the set.

The only concern with The Booby Traps’ set is that sometimes it can seem a little overly familiar. They’re great at what they do, and that whole accelerator-down, chicks-with-flickknives feel that their music has is pretty special, but after repeated viewings of the band, it’s hard not to hope for something more to come from their sound. True, the band has recordings out, but now that they’ve got what they’re doing nailed, surely it’s time for a bit more development, a little more change to what they do? The set they played this evening went down a treat, but as a punter who’s seen them a number of times over the past couple of years, I have to say that I found my interest flagging at times during this evening’s performance.

Finally, it was time for SixFtHick to take the stage. The band’s been workshopping a large amount of new material, and this show served – as had their recent gig at Ric’s Bar in Brisbane with The Devastations – as an opportunity to give the new stuff an airing in front of a rabid crowd, to see whether they’d stand on their own.

Stand they did. The new tunes have a more punky, speedy edge than SixFtHick’s earlier work, and are embued with an energy that seems perfectly suited to their live muscularity. Tunes such as Set Your House In Order and Flight Of The Shitbird show that both anger and groove can fit together – perhaps the result of Dan Baebler’s brilliant switch to the position of guitarist – and give punters hope that maybe, just maybe, the tempestuous beast that is the band in performance will finally be accurately nailed on record. There’s a fire in this bunch of bellies – even moreso than usual – and it’d indicate that any claims the band have to being the most energetic live act in Australia could well be complemented with a record of matching intensity.

Of course, ‘Hick classics aplenty were played tonight. A sultry Oysters was a highlight, while the shotgun precision of I Was Just Cleaning It And It Went Off appeared early in the set, just to up the intensity ante a little. Red Carpet Treatment, Sweatin’ Out The Sin, Goddamn, Smokin’ In Bed, Swamp... most favourites were played, before the set came to an end with a killer (no pun intended) version of Daddy’s Home, and a cover of Chinese Rocks. Throughout the set’s length, the usual brotherly homoeroticism and shirtlessness was exhibited, as well as a series of crowd explorations, bar-top dancing, snap-kicks and grimace-inducing back-bends. (Grimace-inducing on my part, anyway – I know what my back would do if I attempted that.) The traditional interplay of All In Flames received a really extended run this evening, with Ben and Geoff’s rock-and-roll evangelism stretching to new lengths followed musically at all times by a band with one eye on the climbing crooners. As usual, venue furnishings were appropriated for strange and unusual tasks, with a bar table making a perfect perch for Ben – before it came an untimely cropper… though not a note was missed.

Some of the most enjoyable moments of a SixFtHick show come from the times when there’s not even any music playing. The between-tune banter and brotherly baiting that passes between Geoffro and Ben Corbett is at once amusing and offensive, in perfect mix. Ruminations on Sir Joh’s death, and bombing Centrepoint featured, as did Geoffro’s attempt to save on glass cleaning by drinking a schooner of beer from his cowboy boot. (This time, we were assured, the singer removed the Odor-Eater first.)

Encore-wise, the crowd was in for a surprise. Drummer Fred came to the fore, armed with guitar, to sing a song dedicated to golden showers – with the rest of the bemused band watching from the side of the stage – before the whole group came back to play their subtle ode to romancin’, 24 Milk Crates. Leaving the crowd in a sheen of sweat, there was no question that the band had worked hard – and judging by the smiles in the crowd, the desired reaction had been attained.

Again, it must be wondered whether there’s something in that Queensland water. I’m sure there is… and I think I want some.