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First off, my apologies to After The Fall fans and to the band itself, an unforseen calamity postponed my arrival at The Tivoli. Word is; the Central Coast foursome did a great job… I’m sorry I missed it.

The fusion of rock and blues is no new idea by any stretch of the imagination, in fact it’s one of the more tried and tested. But every now and then a band takes an old idea and really runs with it in the right direction. Melbourne’s The Vasco Era are that band.

Originally from Apollo Bay, these three boys really know how to commandeer a stage. Old songs and new pour from the system and wash over the crowd, soaking the mass in a hearty brew of meaty rock, slow-cooked blues and an undeniable hint of country-stock. Frontman *Sid O’neil *’s vocals are desperate and heartfelt while his guitaring is left to feel. If a chord is missed it’s because he’s busy forcing his soul into that last verse, and anyway this his baby, he’ll play it how he wants. Each track is a beast all of it’s own and one that you get the feeling may change personality from gig to gig. The Vasco Era is paradoxically freeform in it’s tightness.

During the few subdued moments, eyes become locked on whomever they last landed, but when we’re brought back to the boil it’s tippy-toe time, cause this just has to be taken-in collectively. Bassist and sibling Ted O’Neil loves to let loose; thrashing like a lead guitarist and flinging his instrument through a full 360 degree personal orbit whilst always maintaining his stride. Drummer Michael Fitzgerald plays with all the subtlety required; sometimes just a peppering other times a pounding, but always the perfect compliment. Oh Sam and For No One surprisingly steal the show, sidestepping the new-material-let-down effect and disproving the concept-albums-don’t-stand-up-live theory. I’m now dying to see The Vasco Era headline a show, and cringing at the weight of expectation now riding on the shoulders of tonight headline act.

He may be without shirt, but apparently not without eating disorder, redneck hairdresser or vocal-doppelganger! Daniel Sanders is the singer/guitarist for Perth based, four-piece rock outfit Gyroscope and he certainly isn’t a wallflower. The Tivoli isn’t at capacity tonight, but what Gyroscope fans lack in numbers, they certainly make up for in commitment.

From the get go the front-third of the theatre is a gyrating (‘scuse the pun) mess of sweaty bodies and the balcony is lined with shirtless boys fist-pumping and singing. The band rip through a set of songs with each sounding curiously similar to the one before. This is not necessarily a bad thing. The band have clearly stumbled apon a foolproof formula for radio-friendly, easily accessible yet heavy, pop-rock. While each track is undeniably catchy, apart from a hefty scattering of clichés, there’s really not a whole lot to sink your teeth into.

Not nothing though; Breed Obsession’s 1981 is a mature, tight and beefy pop offering while latest release (omitting the line ‘It’s nothing to do with the weather/baby I’m getting better’) Baby I’m Getting Better is another. The set is predictably closed and positively punctuated with Gyroscope’s deservingly adored breakthrough Snakeskin. Exiting the Tivoli into the brisk Brisbane air, a drunken punter appraises the evenings entertainment by warbling ‘Oh Sam! Oh Sam!’, and I’d have to say I was just thinking the same thing.