I don’t know whether to blame daylight savings, Sundays, or a killer hangover, but I was entirely frustrated to walk into the Rosemount to hear the final song by The Autumn Isles. If that one song was a reflection of the whole set, and knowing the band it probably was, I genuinely don’t know how the crowd, small and laid back as it were, weren’t swinging along with them. Actually I lie. I do know why. Rosemount, if you’re listening, when it’s been above 30 degrees all weekend and it’s still light outside, don’t be afraid to turn on those big fans. It’s a gig, not an endurance test.

The Autumn Isles have some damn swinging tunes that just beg to be danced to. They come across as a very professional outfit, and it’s refreshing to hear such a clean and well-organised sound. Without sounding empty, the instruments complement each other rather than competing for love from a fickle audience. But having only one song to soak it in, I locked onto drummer Russell Loasby. He plays as though he was born on a drum stool, sticks in hand ready to roll. Not only does his playing style make him look like he knows what he’s doing, he also sounds like he knows what he’s doing. Music being the medium that it is, that is clearly the important thing. Loasby’s playing doesn’t just keep the beat; it pushes and chases the songs to great heights.

Dappled Cities Fly were up against a lot from the start. They were at the end of a long tour, and the still-pretty-small crowd behaved as though they were on the end of a long something too, with most people resigning to just dancing on the inside. Hiccups throughout the set didn’t help either – the snare drum was busted, then it wasn’t, then they were going to troop on without it, then they got it replaced… and yes, co-frontman Dave Rennick got tangled in cords while having some fun-looking floor time, and yes, other co-frontman Tim Derricourt hit himself in the mouth with his mic… but to their absolute credit they took that shambolic energy, bottled it, and injected it between their toes, with bassist Alex Moore never once losing his smile, newly-legitimate keys man Ned Cooke never loosing his concentration, and drummer Hugo Boyce playing with the same precision and passion that probably sent his original snare running in the first place. And of course Rennick and Derricourt appeared to be having some kind of party throughout the entire set.

But again, we are all here for the music. Having had a big year of touring, including notable appearances South by Southwest and CMJ, and recording and releasing album Granddance, the Dappled boys have had plenty of opportunity to hone their sound. They will take a chord and attack it, wrestling it to the ground and whispering malicious nightmares in low tones in its ear until it yields to their creative desires. They linked some songs together with artfully constructed soundscapes, which can so easily turn into wank on a stage, but in these hands you were left with just enough time to come down and shake out the last song before they launched into the next one.

Dappled Cities Fly play songs that sound like they are going to literally elevate you; they sound like they’re floating, like they’re made of sunlight and water vapour. The Rennick and Derricourt Dual Vocal Spectacular was superbly executed and utilised throughout. This is not just a band where two people take lead vocals – real form and meaning emerges from the technique, highlighted never better than during current radio favourite Fire Fire Fire. Set highlight for me was the song in which dramatic crescendos were laced with soft melodic breaks, which was a bit of a tease and awfully frustrating, but when the song was let off the leash and permitted free reign it was clear that it was worth the wait, with the crowd coming as close as it was going to get to rocking out. And you can’t get through a Dappled review without making mention of live favourite The Birds, which came out near the end and definitely lived up to its reputation, with Rennick and Derricourt’s impassioned bird impersonations and general Going Nuts On Stage sort of action.

The Dappled Cities sound is hard to define, and it’s probably better not to try, but if anyone asks all you need to know is that they fall into categories of both ‘pretty damn good’ and ‘well worth the effort on a sticky and confusing Sunday’.