The Newtown RSL may have given itself a flash new name with techno-jargon name, but it remains an RSL with proof of residence outside a 5km area mandatory for your temporary membership.

Once in, however, we kick in with Rastawookie, a 7 piece reggae outfit. With heavy Chilean influences people sat on the floor to listen. After all, no one dances to reggae. In fact there may be an equation of sorts. If you’re listening to reggae and can’t stop yourself from twirling around in circles, arms splayed, tie-dyed scarf trailing, then you’re either too stoned or on the wrong side of fourty. None the less, it’s nice to see lots of familiar faces from my Dealing with the Menopause workshop, even if they’re as happy to see me here as they are there.

Rastawookie are surely one of the very best live reggae groups in Sydney, and if nothing else they are pleasant on the ears and give the sound system a good workout. And let’s be honest, you really don’t see enough trumpeters these days. They finished off their set with possibly trademark panache, and this gave way to a DJ playing whilst the stage is set up for Kid Confucius. The Roots blare out, the partition walls get pulled back, a general filling up takes place.

At eleven Kid Confucius took to the stage, immediately topping Rastaookie by being somewhere between eight and ten piece! It starts off very 70s-Stevie-Wonder (think Past Time Paradise). Or more precisely, very Michael Jackson when he’s doing one of his seventies Stevie Wonder numbers. However, it’s not long before it breaks in to pseudo-soul hip hop. I’ll give them this – they do defy categories with their eclecticism, but it’s a false dawn. The hip hop elements are a mixture of Jurassic Five, Beastie Boys and -heaven forbid! – N*E*R*D. These are offset against some sub-par-soul.

It seems that somehow Kid Confucius manage to be less than the sum of their parts, though they’re not without their charms. Certainly the younger, more female members of the audience seemed to be enjoying themselves. But despite a plethora of confident musicians they fail to produce any good, original music. A handsome bunch of fella’s they are, quite simply, too eclectic for their own good and end up sounding like a musak, lo-fi conurbation of styles.

They promised a lot but for me, but didn’t carry it through. Maybe their forthcoming album and ‘musical progression’ will take them to a better place.