Live Review: The Zoobombs, Mesa Cosa, Smasheddybash

It was a miserable turn out for such a great lineup but Smasheddybash got the crowd warmed up by channelling Amanda Fucking Palmer sans eyebrows. They spread the good word on Tacos and delivered a surftastic three-chord grunge that wound its way through Cramps-style grooves to land at screamo 666 thrash.

Mesa Cosa have a very clear ethos of “weirdcore 4 lyf”, and they play a brand of jungle punk, ear juice that lives up to it. A six-piece, with a sax, double guitars and double vocals, they produce layered melodic goodness. The vocals could do with a little more contrast at times, but their B-52's meets System Of A Down vibe landed somewhere near a matured Bleeding Knees Club, which isn't a bad thing. Extended groove-noodling jams splayed out to crazy clown land before winding back into a nice tight knit. Extra kudos to the lads for having a saxamaphone and staying entirely away from a single hint of ska.

The 21st century schizoid men (and woman) of the Zoobombs may not have had any new releases, or have been on the road in years, but they still have that ethereal magic on stage. The glorious sight of a singer throwing a full windmill in total abandon was fucking great to experience. Quintessentially Japanese, their love for the performance turned what looked liked a ragged bunch of sleep-deprived schleps into a machine of noise exploration and wonder. From pop to punk to prog to passé, they covered all sounds possible, providing an opportunity for the crowd to get their spaz on, smooth groove, mosh like their hair was on fire, and gave us a funk awakening to climax on. The saxtastic squawks added to the already jangled mess, while the keys provided a depth that had been missing from the evening. It was also hilarious to hear a thick Tokyo accent say “thank you, Wollongong.” The Zoobombs are one of only a handful of bands from the '90s that will one day be looked upon as cult classics.