I'm late as usual, but as I approach the pub from where I've parked my car down the street, I can't hear a sound. Most unusual, but then I remember that the Drones are a Melbourne band, so clearly they're still working on Melbourne time. Just so - it's 9pm by the time I hit the back room and it turns out they're not planning to go on until 9:15. Plenty of time for a beer then.

9:15 passes and the band begins to fart around on stage with their instruments, eventually making a formal start at close to 9:25. As I might have guessed from their name, there's a heavy stoner overtone to their sound, which consists mainly of long leisurely instrumental passages occasionally enlivened by a few vocals or a bit of flaming guitar work floating free over the brooding beat provided by the rhythm section. As the set progresses they pick up the pace and reduce the duration, sounding more and more like a straight rock band all the time. However it seems that time is not something that anyone seems to be keeping an eye on it and when their set finishes it turns out that they've played for only a couple of minutes under an hour (e.g. significantly over the normal length of time for an opening act). Add this to the late start and blimey, what does it all mean? By the time the second band has finished setting up, it'll be time for the last band to go on.

Fortunately the bands tonight are sharing most of the equipment between them, so there isn't as much change over time required as there might otherwise be. To add to that, the Lowdorados (playing tonight under their old "Dirty Low" moniker, for reasons I don't get around to finding out) seem to have come up short in the personnel department to the tune of one bass player, much to the obvious annoyance of the drummer and guitarist. However a complaint about the general unreliability of bassists falls largely on deaf ears, since the Thermals have never bothered with one, the Drones have got theirs there with them (and she looks less than impressed with their complaint) and one of the more demonstrative audience members plays bass for 300 St Claire, so then it's time for a bit of back peddling and apologies all round...

Their bassless predicament forces them to reduce the length of their set, since they don't feel that some of their intended songs will work as an impromptu duo. Making the best of their limited line up, they start off with a lightly electrified country blues that has a refreshing shopsoiled innocence to it. If clean-living Roy Rogers had let that old prairie dog Gabby Hayes talk him into trying some el primo prairie weed and then be led across the frontier on a three week bender until he woke up in a Tijuana brothel with no memory, no money and no trousers, what he'd be playing on the piano in the parlour of that cathouse in order to earn enough money to make his way back to Dale and Trigger might sound something like this. After another song in a similar vein, the two guitarists from the Drones offer their services, one of them helping out on bass while the other backs up on guitar, for a few quick fully electrified numbers that come to sound increasingly like the Scientists at their swampiest as the set progresses.

Thanks to their slightly truncated set, a little of the lost time has been made back, but the Thermals are still going to have to cut their set short as well. The last time I saw them play was back in November last year and I don't think I've missed any gigs since then, so it's been quite some time between drinks for them. They certainly look very keen to get back into action as they hasten to get set up. The second that they are ready, they launch into what turns out to be a frenetic set, hammering out the first few songs one after the other machinegun style and turning their performance into the aural equivalent of a drive-by shooting. Fortunately these lads are packing Fenders rather than Uzis, so it's hot rock not hot lead that fills the air and gets the audience dancing instead of ducking for cover.

Although it has been quite a lay off for them, drummer Nik Reith later admits that they have had a couple of solid rehearsals quite recently and it shows, even if the band members themselves seem a little critical of their own playing at times. To the audience it's like complaining about the colour of the paint job on the speeding car that runs you over - it may be a valid evaluation on pure technical grounds, but there are larger issues to consider; meaning that it's about attitude and passion, not note perfect playing, and attitude and passion are what the Thermals have got by the bucketful, as they have ably demonstrated by this quick rampage through their repertoire before winding up the evening with a tribute to the Ramones (prompted of course by the death this week of front man Joey). Gabba Gabba Hey. This is what live music is all about (I'd like to see Bardot try raising this much excitement miming on Top Of The Pops). You don't get anything like this sitting at home listening to a record!

Speaking of records, the good news for those outside of Sydney who haven't yet had the chance to partake of the particular musical mayhem that is the Thermals' contribution to the rawk world, is that they have completed all the recording and mixing of their debut album and it's now scheduled for mastering in the next couple of weeks as a prelude to a release sometime around the middle of the year. Until they pass your way, it's going to have to do. - John McPharlin

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