The events of the following day would afford tonight’s bill a certain prophetic, and tragic, serendipity. Twelve hours later the air in greater Melbourne would resemble the thick clouds of acrid smoke that characterised the eruption of Mount St Helens in Washington State nearly 30 years ago; the consequences of the Victorian bushfires was human and economic devastation on an almost incomprehensible scale.

In stark contrast, the prevailing mood tonight was one of excitement with the welcome return of one of Melbourne’s favourite expatriate bands Devastations for their first Australian show in almost 12 months.

Local band St Helens is slowly but surely building a solid parochial following. Despite being only peripherally acquainted with the band’s music before tonight, this evening’s performance only served to confirm that there is much to admire about St Helens. Superficial associations could be made with the sliced-and-diced art punk of Television and perhaps even the jagged guitar edge of The Scientists. In other moments (possibly during ‘Get Up’), you detect a faint whiff of classic pub rock fare; designed, prepared and presented with the deft amphetamine and punk culinary skills of Anthony Bourdain. A debut album is due next month – this is an event certainly warranting close attention

Having not appeared together on stage for the best part of nine months, Devastations could have been forgiven for being a bit rusty around the edges. And maybe there were some initial nerves, a few loose connections and the occasional distant hiccup. It was manifestly a different set-up to their gig at the same venue last year: a distant absence of any electronic aural atmosphere, no brilliant lights; the band’s practised European cool replaced by a stripped back, almost garage aesthetic.

‘Oh Me, Oh My’ opened proceedings, carefully at first, as guitarist Tom Carlyon and Conrad Standish gradually worked into a groove. Within a few songs, however, it was clear that what Devastations had lost in prolificacy, they had gained in freshness and youthful attitude. At its bleeding heart, Devastations are a dialectic of noise and rhythm. Standish, rolling his shoulders in perfect unison with his thundering bass notes, locks into a tight Teutonic groove alongside Hugo Cran’s drum beats. Carlyon taunts his rhythm section with subtle licks, before unleashing a hailstorm of screaming feedback, a cacophony of weird and wonderful sounds to dispense any remaining hint of pretense.

A sizeable part of the set is taken from Devastations’ recent, and frequently misunderstood album Yes, U, with the occasional trip back through the band’s earlier catalogue. The obligatory encore gives us another three songs including the brutally beautiful ‘The Night I Couldn’t Stop Crying’ from Coal. It might have gone on forever without complaint, but all things – however short, sweet and potently intense – must come to an end.

by Patrick Emery