Thursday 31/07/08 The Breeders, Gaslight Radio @ Fowlers Live, Adelaide

More than a decade into their career, Gaslight Radio have been around the block. They know a thing or two about how to read an audience. They’ve already joked about how much longer they’ve got; but a song or two later they’re desperate, and quite prepared to admit it. “The Breeders will be great.” Finally, they get a response.

When you’ve been playing together this long and the only way to reach the audience is by name-checking the headline act, it’s probably time to go home. But Gaslight Radio have got another song on their list and they’re going to play it. Thankfully, it’s their best yet, at least in terms of the quality of writing. The tragedy here is that the best of their recordings – which can be both inventive and atmospheric – mark them out as a band worth investigating, and the early part of their set tonight bristled with menace, or something close. Their three-guitar attack built briefly to a frenzy, but after that everything went awry, falling back to leaden tempos rather too often and bringing in variety that went nowhere and said very little. File under frustrating misfires.

When The Breeders take the stage, it’s not what Kim Deal says that matters, so much as how she says it. From the way she greets us – the tone of her voice, the mischievous smile – it’s obvious that we’re in for a good night. If they ever did, The Breeders have long since given up on worrying about being cool, and what matters to them now is simply the joy of playing. It’s infectious, though it’s quite clear that the audience tonight already has The Breeders’ bug.

There’s a tendency for their songs to feel like brilliant sketches – after not much more than ten minutes they’ve rattled off five songs – but that’s part of the charm. The opening salvo sets the tone, with a good mix of old and new. Tipp City, from The Amps’ Pacer (a Breeders’ album in all but name) comes first; Title TK gets a rare nod with Huffer; and then we’re straight into Bang On, from Mountain Battles. Though the stripped-back, half-techno, half-new wave arrangement of the album has given way to a slightly more advanced one built around a simple but huge bass figure, the drum pattern and guitar riff are just as irresistible. The only surprise is that the whole audience isn’t singing along with the insanely catchy lyrics: “I love no one/ And no one loves me”. It’s only a matter of time before Breeders fans the world over are demanding it.

When people shout out for other new favourites apologies are offered – “we haven’t learnt that one yet!” – but most of the really important oldies are present and correct: Divine Hammer, No Aloha, Cannonball, and their excellent cover of Happiness Is A Warm Gun.

One criticism: the band never quite manages to shift up into the gear that separates the seriously good performance from the stunning. What makes the gig so fascinating then – and so vital – is the slow realisation, fully grasped about three quarters of the way through, that The Breeders are turning out some of the best material they’ve ever written. In a totally different vein to Bang On, Night Of Joy is haunting and truly beautiful; We’re Gonna Rise is almost its match. The reverb-drenched Overglazed might just be another sketch but is no less enjoyable for that. Their taste in covers hasn’t deserted them either: It’s The Love offers a headlong rush of pure pop energy.

Against the odds, after the Deals’ well-publicised problems with drugs and recovery, after a Pixies reunion that surely means Kim Deal never needs to work again, and with the third decade of the band fast approaching, The Breeders are back. Which wouldn’t really matter, but for this: the Deal sisters are true originals, they’ve still got plenty to say, and they say it brilliantly. And all while looking as if they’re having the time of their lives.