Ten Lives is a radical metamorphosis for Deloris, marking a shift from stark, introspective songcraft to fulsome, starry indie-pop. For the album, singer-songwriter Marcus Teague was left alone in the studio and found himself playing almost every instrument to accompany his profound lyrics. For a largely singular effort, Ten Lives is astoundingly full-bodied, moving through experimental pop, acoustic numbers and even Americana, all glued by Teague’s poetic lyrics. Could what emerged from this recording time be rendered on-stage? Tonight, Deloris were going to take us soaring.

It is a modest crowd who assembled in the sultry enclave of the Revolver bandroom to witness first support The Tigers. This Perth band ensnare all the auditory space they can to push out their languid yet expansive avant-rock, with keyboard filling in, rather than cutting through, the static storm of guitars and rainy-snare drumming. At times they sound a little too much like five people desperately trying to pull the music five different directions, but when this antagonistic style clicks they achieve a layered and haphazard grandeur. The first support is all-too-often just another half an hour’s inconvenience before the main event, but no so tonight. Fuzzed-up finale Slayer Belt left the audience stinging, as guitar and trumpet cut through static, before everything drops out and then rips in again into a heaving climax. In time The Tigers will resolve their sound, and then the year of the tiger will be upon us.

The crowd thickens somewhat for main sideline act Tucker B’s, who treated us to a spot of performance-art on top of the wild and essential rock ‘n roll they’re mostly known for. For some unknown reason, the members strolled out with matching black aprons and laser head-lights and quickly proceeded to display similar insanity in their musical output. The band tear through a restlessly schizophrenic list of songs, many from 2005s Chubby. Later in their set they master the intricate switches between softer, almost post-rock moments and all-out noise-walls. It’s hard to say whether their zany on-stage antics (guitars making love, hair-pulling playfights) are inspired or simply insipid, yet the rock remains solid nonetheless.

Deloris best tracks on Ten Lives are certainly those that aim sky-high and hit the heavens, but would they manage this live? Revolver fills, the band emerge, Everything Ever builds to a crescendo and Deloris take us on high. It’s Teague’s vocals that keep us there, however, his lyrics portending the rest of the gig: “unsung songs of extraordinary thought / a memory that was just about to start”.

With the keyboard track pre-recorded, the rest of the band were free to hold up Teague’s sweet and impassioned vocals (apparently he had a cold, you’d be forgiven for not picking up on it tonight). Ben Gook’s bass and Antony Petrucci’s guitar mesh effortlessly with Teague, as Daniel Brimelow mines the drums to maintain the ever-ascending momentum. It soon becomes clear Deloris don’t need studio knobs to reach such euphoric heights.

The spirited material continues after the first song with the soaring and searing Where We Already Live, and the popular favourite (albeit not popular enough) Loup Garou, on which they hit the driving chorus riff spot-on. At this point I was worried Deloris had exhausted their best material too early on, but there was little to worry about as the crowd were led back down from the clouds into more tender material. Songs such as Birdcatcher Finds A Tail ( on which Teague gloriously opines “make a life with just words in the kitchen”), the charming Americana number Down The Mountain (with chorus delivered via megaphone) and the lament Postponement Plan actually worked better live than on album. These slower tracks are far more affecting, haunting even, when placed in front of you rather than experience via the stuffiness of a recording.

After the mid-set slow-down, things picked up again with Funes, Woah Oh and first encore track Happy New Year, whose rousing refrain of “happy new year!” was delivered in such a way to breathe new life into such a tired phrase. For the final track the band depart, leaving Teague onstage to sing an acoustic number, and leaving the audience to realise simply how tender his voice is.

Between tracks Teague happily explained the forthcoming song, with cryptic remarks such as one song (Woah Oh) having separate verses for rocks, wood, water, friends, love and family, and the that final verse “shows how they’re all the same thing”. Although it may seem inane when read out of context, his banter was so brimming with spontaneous ideas and images it seems he could write another 20 albums. Here’s hoping Deloris find their way to writing at least another, I know I’ll be there for the launch when they do.