Great music should be able to transcend the boundaries of language — you don’t need to understand the lyrics to know whether a song sounds good or not. Placebo did a song in French. Rammstein have just as many English speaking fans as they do German speaking. Super Furry Animals released an album in Welsh and Sigur Rós even invented their own dialect.

So for Guitar Wolf, a band whose lyrics swing from Japanese to English to Ramoneish, judging them on their lyrical content would be missing the point. The same goes for Japanese-Australian trio Mach Pelican, who, despite singing only in English, have been using a very similar formula for almost a decade now.

Local supports for the opening date of Guitar Wolf and Mach Pelican’s current Australian tour are Sex Panther and The Volcanics, who do roughly the same thing with one key difference: Sex Panther are girls, The Volcanics are boys. Tonight, there is little between these two, if you compensate for Sex Panther’s early slot and relatively sparse crowd. By the the ‘canics hit the stage, the venue is quickly filling up, with leather-clad punk rockers outnumbering the Amplifier Bar’s typical indie kids with ease. While the Panther’s set only comes together as it draws to a close, The Volcanics feed on the growing crowd and, mixing new material with favourites from their Nothin’ for You EP, put on one of their best performances yet.

But no matter how hard they try, the best efforts of the Volcanics can do little to take the spotlight off tonight’s headlining duo. Though Guitar Wolf head the bill, Mach Pelican are returning to their former hometown for a rare visit. Seconds into the band’s opening tune, the casual toe-tapping indie crowd is overcome by an army of Ramones shirts that continued to swell throughout the set.

It hardly matters that most of their lyrics are undeceipherable, as the trio’s knack for finding catchy melodies and infectious harmonies shines through. Despite their ball-busting punk sound, all three members manage to pull their weight behind the mic and remind Perth what we’ve missing since the band moved to Melbourne all those years ago.

Though K-Rock, Atsu and Toshi power through a fistful of tracks from new album Radio Action, the highlights were always going to be the tunes from the band’s Perth days. Ursula’s Finally Got Tits and My Sweet Ramona go down a treat but it’s Dance in Chicago that brings the house down, as every pair of lungs in the room belt the familiar chorus line out.

As Guitar Wolf enter the stage to the sound of revving motorcycles, there’s a sense of anticipation in the air. Rumours are going around the crowd concerning what stage props and stunts the band will pull out tonight.

There are no flaming microphones tonight but the performance from Guitar Wolf, Drum Wolf and Bass Wolf more than makes up for it. The trio power through a back catalogue spanning two decades right up to current release Ultra Cross Volume 2.

Guitar Wolf, aka Seiji, fronts the band donning dark sunglasses, a leather jacket and a black and blue SG. Sweat pours down his face as he leads the band through about an hour of flawless rock at earth-shattering volume. While Seiji bounces off the walls, climbs into the crowd and squirms on the ground underneath his guitar, Bass Wolf UG and Drum Wolf Toru hit every note and beat with precision the Ramones would be impressed by.

As the set draws reaches the home straight, the band are obviously having trouble with the frequent stage invasions to the point where they do something about it. In true rock & roll fashion Seiji hands his guitar to one lucky punter, who obviously knows about 0.5 chords. But the stage invader doesn’t care, as he dances around the stage and salutes the jealous crowd before him. A second stage invader makes his way up and, despite ignoring Seiji’s instructions, pulls off some impressive solos. And just as every paying punter is ready to do whatever the world’s coolest Wolf band (sorry Wolfmother, Wolf Eyes, Death Wolf, Wolf & Cub and) tell them, the trio have exited the stage and the show is over.

Seiji does return to the stage for a drawn-out solo jam, but without the muscle of UG and Toru, his five minutes of guitar noise falls on deaf ears. After almost two hours of nonsensical lyricism, every punter that showed up tonight will go home knowing that rock & roll is rock & roll, regardless of what language it is (or isn’t) in.