Shivering on one of Sydney’s typical winter evenings, I was hoping for a good old rock gig to dispel the winter chills. The Gaelic Theatre was the venue and the diverse crowd ranging from the tight black jeans crew to thirty-something couples rushed hurriedly into the club, seeking shelter in the warmth of the surrounds.

First up, a moody Laura Imbruglia in the most un-rockstar of attires, corduroy pants, sauntered onto stage. Divided into two halves, acoustic driven folk songs and girl-power punk, the set was missing in energy and vigour. Looking uninterested and disengaged, Imbruglia’s bluesy-folk songs seemed contrived and lacking in passion, as tracks such as ‘Surly’ promised but never delivered. However, the punkier songs such as closer ‘Rabbit’, proved more successful as Imbruglia howled with a semblance of conviction. A disappointing set to say the least, with a performance that left a lot to be desired.

The same could not be said for The Devoted Few. Preparing myself for another snooze-athon, the six-piece completely blew me out of my aloof state with a scintillating sonic assault. Combining intricate guitar-work, pop-friendly keyboard effects and catchy lyrics, the Devoted Few were confrontational and yet engaging, as the audience nodded their heads approvingly. The band’s dynamic sound often reached the atmospheric with fx-laden ‘Cry Your Eyes Out’ and the pulsating ‘We Burn’ soaring to a tremendous climax. The Devoted Few also explore the darker and angrier moods with the visceral fury of ‘Don’t Listen to Us’ reminiscent of Rage Against the Machine at their best, as frontman Ben Fletcher strutted around the stage yelping like a sick dog. In the vest his mum bought him, Fletcher wore a permanent smirk informing the crowd of a review that compared him and a bandmate to Merrick and Rosso. I’d have to disagree, he’s quite a bit more attractive, as the group of adoring females behind me would agree, and much more talented. Finishing with ‘Sleep Less’, the Devoted Few had made their mark and I for one will be on the look out for their next gig.

Since last year’s tour of Australia, the Fiery Furnaces, brother/sister duo of Matt and Eleanor Friedberger have been motoring at a thousand miles per hour with the release of two LPs, Bitter Tea and Rehearsing My Choir. Renowned for their charming melange of pop melodies, complicated song structures and mind-blowing guitar soloes, the Fiery Furnaces have formed a dedicated fanbase down under. So as the crowd buzzed with anticipation, on the stroke of 11pm, the duo appeared and along with them, a rhythm section led by the meanest looking drummer I had ever seen. Replacing the eccentric drummer Andy Knowles with this muscle-bound, tatoo-laden drummer signalled the group’s intention for a more aggressive and rawer sound with their beloved keyboards locked away. In an explosive 90 minute set, containing several songs from earlier acclaimed albums Gallowsbird’s Bark and Blueberry Boat, the Fiery Furnaces explored their sonically adventurous sound with mixed results.

Opening with ‘Chris Michaels’, it was clear Eleanor’s voice was not at its best, (we find out later she was suffering from a sore throat), as Matt traded vocals and played the complex guitar parts with unerring ease. Followed by a sped-up and meatier ‘Crystal Clear’, Matt’s dynamic presence was felt in a blistering ‘Straight Street’, abusing and frantically distorting his guitar, blaring out wonderfully uncanny spaced-out effects that truly warped the mind. Though live favourites such as ‘My Dog Was Lost (But Now He’s Found)’ and ‘Quay Cur’ were disappointing, as were ‘Benton Harbour Blues’ and ‘Teach Me Sweetheart’, my favourite tracks from the latest album Bitter Tea. The lack of keyboards and rawer sound could not dampen the irresistible ‘Tropical Ice-Land’. Dressed in all white, Eleanor captured the crowd’s yearning for the heat  of summertime repeatedly echoing the words “tropical icy icy”. Surprisingly, it’s the songs from the critically lambasted Rehearsing My Choir that hold up to their recorded versions, in particular the beguiling ‘Garfield El’. With mike in hand, Eleanor spat out the lyrics like some incensed rapper, hypnotising the crowd with mesmerising wordplay. Another highlight was ‘Single Again’, as Eleanor lamented “I wish I was single again” with an intensity you’d almost believe she was revealing her innermost thoughts. Watch out Alex Kapranos!

Ending with an encore made up entirely of audience requests, a fantastic rendition of fan favourite ‘Inspector Blanche-Flower’ closed the night on a high note, as I left the Gaelic Theatre with the warmth only a rock ‘n’ roll gig could provide.