From the Spinal Tap "rockumentary" to Led Zeppelin's excess-all-areas ­biography Hammer of the Gods, young fans have long been fascinated with the early 1970s when dinosaur rock bands wrote long songs about goblins and had hotel room ­shenanigans involving girls and fish. This is the ­market ­cornered by Australian band Wolfmother. ­Vocalist Andrew Stockdale, an ­"Aussie ­Osbourne" if you will, has a voice pitched between Ozzy and Robert Plant's wails, sings about white unicorns, has been known to wear capes and call ­himself Blue Wizard, and is an all-round accurate pastiche of a rock god.

Wolfmother don't do covers, but there are plenty of times when you could be listening to the Doors or the Sabs. They even had a Spinal Tap ­implosion, with the rest of the original trio ­quitting over "irreconcilable ­musical and ­personal ­differences" with the frontman. ­Stockdale replaced them with even hairier black-clad rockers. But musical differences? Wolfmother sound just like they did before, perhaps with even more guitar solos. They have also expanded to a four-piece, presumably Stockdale's version of amps that go up to 11.

Occasionally, they transcend their influences. New Moon Rising is a bona fide anthem about a small-town boy whose "gotta find himself a ­whoah-man". The even more hard-­rocking Woman is about a "Woman, knoworrImean". What there isn't, ­surprisingly, is much of a show. ­Stockdale barely speaks and after two successful albums, you'd think they could afford an inflatable bat or replica of Stonehenge. ­During the terrific closer, Joker and the Thief, Stockdale hops on one leg and a woman is passed over the crowd to the band, presumably for later ritual sacrifice. But otherwise, while Wolfmother were a hoot when they were a spoof, as a (gulp) serious rock band, they're not nearly as much fun.

At Brixton Academy on Thursday (box office: 0844 477 2000), then touring.