Royal Headache / The #1s @ Broadcast, 14 June

Two different shades of punk rock come to Broadcast. Dublin's #1s (or 'Number Ones' if you prefer; they're not fussy) are up first, and they're the ones who lean most immediately towards something you might call 'pop'.

There are shades of The Undertones and more overtly commerical acts like The Records in their hi-octane clatter; a power-pop melange delivered gleefully and without subtlety. Their array of two-minute belters contains no gristle – Heartsmash and Sharon Shouldn't cut straight to the part of your brain that just wants hooks, with nothing that you might call 'let-up'. Pure entertainment, pure joy.

There's a little more pressure on Royal Headache. Five years since that majestic self-titled debut appeared, and two years since frontman Shogun told the world that the band had broken up, only for the band to return with 2015's triumphant LP High. Unsurprisingly, a sense of anticipation hangs in the air amidst tonight's rain-sodden audience.

Luckily, the Sydney quartet deliver. Bandmates Joe, Law and Shortty (it's all nicknames here) stand at the furthest edges of the stage, facing inwards and giving their singer plenty of room to pace up and down propulsively, occasionally kicking out at imaginary enemies or simply collapsing to his knees: a mixture of lost-to-the-moment flamboyance and justifiable exhaustion. He means it, man, and it's incredible to witness.

If this relentlessly energetic stage presence betrays Shogun's background in hardcore bands, his delivery offers more of a throwback to the R'n'B bands of the 60s – channelling soul and the blues through conviction, audacity and sincerity rather than technique or half-hearted attempts towards authenticity. That's what makes the likes of Down the Lane and Really in Love stand out from a sea of lesser garage rockers: an uncommonly thrilling urgency.

Things get darker with the more recent Garbage, as Law's strafing guitar picks up volume until they reach full-on aural assault levels. By the end, we've heard a stack of excellent brand new songs and a formidable cover of Womack & Womack's Teardrops, all sticking to their Saints-go-supernova formula, and our ears have taken a solid battering. This is one headache you'll welcome whole-heartedly.