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Gig ReviewsReviews
November 9, 2023
Nikki Eenink

[Review] All Time Low @ Margaret Court Arena, Melbourne 4/11/2023

Saturday was an absolutely massive day for anyone who hated high school, made questionable Omegle calls, or had a Tumblr between 2009 and 2016. Pop Punk royalty All Time Low and Mayday Parade have arrived in Melbourne for a double act of debauchery, moshing, and one hell of a trip down memory lane.

I remember hearing my first Mayday Parade song on a So Fresh! Hits of Summer 2009 CD. So, I have to admit, I was a little nervous to hear them play live. I was sandwiched between some of the rowdiest concert goers of living memory, and we were hungry for a show. Were they going to be able to provide? It seems wrong to say a group of guys who haven’t yet hit 40 are in their ‘twilight years’, but Mayday Parade was formed in 2005, for God’s Sake. That’s nearly two decades of performing and touring. That is the twilight years! But I should’ve known better than to be nervous.

Oh Well, Oh Well, is quieter than I expected for an opening song. But the violin is beautiful, it’s haunting and delicate and washes over our expectant grins. And then Jake Bundrick comes in with those drums on the chorus. And I’m taken all the way back to 2011. I’m kicking rocks as I wait for the bus, I’m changing math class again, I’m at Margaret Court jostling as much as I can in my seat to keep rhythm with the women either side of me. Every word flows out of me, Mayday Parade have just unlocked something in me. Derek Sanders takes our hands, holds them lovingly, and guides us through the rest of their setlist. He is quiet, gentle, and absolutely Earth-shattering. His voice is so good, so good. Pain, love, loss all come out of him fully formed and I find myself grieving every song as soon as it’s finished. Sanders shows us how much of a master of his craft he is, in the acoustic version of Miserable At Best. Margaret Court is awash with phone torch light. This song was born to be played acoustic, born to be played live. I have never felt more lucky.

It’s clear the band have been a unit for so long. Bassist Jeremy Lenzo and guitarist Brooks Betts wind their way between each other without thinking. They’re two parts of the same whole. Everyone has this beautiful, innate understanding of the others. As individual players, their skill cannot be understated. They play to not only match the recorded version of the songs, but to destroy it. The Tallahassee natives absolutely blast their recordings out of the water. Driving, pounding, relentlessly rhythmic bass, shredding, treacle-sweet guitar licks and delicate, precise, endlessly engaging drumming keep my eyes glued to the stage for their whole set. And god, it’s too short. At only 10 songs long, I am positively gutted when it comes to an end all too soon.

But at least we get to finish on Jamie All Over. I watch GA shake off all of the emotions from the set. They’re grinning, bumping into each other, as the fellas onstage give it everything they’ve got. Guitars turned up to the max, Bundrick is slamming on the drumkit so hard I’m worried the skins will break. Everyone looks so alive.

And then it’s time for the illustrious return of Maryland emo-Rockers, All Time Low. This will be their first time in Australia since 2017, and to say it’s nostalgic – is the understatement of the fucking century. All Time Low are the high school anthem makers. In harsh contrast to Mayday Parade’s setlist – we’re in for 22 songs from a nearly 20-year career from this band of agents for chaos. If any band was going to be a parody of medieval travelling bands – these guys would be hit. They’re all energy, humour, and an endless stream of increasingly elaborate bits. They’re horny, nostalgic and angsty. They’re a delight in every sense of the word.

Nothing can describe the absolute tidal wave that is Lost in Stereo into Damned if I Do Ya (Damned if I Don’t). All Time Low sucker punch you to welcome you to the set. Unbelievably high energy, pumping lights and new takes on beloved riffs – this is an opening impossible to forget. Everyone is up. There are no seats, they’ve turned the whole fucking place into a moshpit. The control they have over us and the room is impossible to replicate.

“Holy fuck there’s a lot of people here”. Front man Alex Gaskarth is met with a tsunami of applause and cheers. “This is the biggest show we’ve ever played in Australia. And that’s all thanks to you. We’re four guys from Maryland who started this shit nearly 20 years ago – in high school, and we never, ever thought we’d be here.”

After several more songs punctuated by flashing purple lights, Rian Dawson’s inimitable drumming and Gaskarth’s unbelievable vocal power, our front man takes to the mic again. “This is a song about love.” And we launch into a mashup between, Modern Love / Stella and Tell Me I’m Alive.

God these guys are a unit. The amount of stage guitarists Jack Barakat and Zack Merrick can cover while getting these intricate runs note-perfect, is unlike anything else I’ve ever seen. All Time Low do high-energy better than anyone else in the business. They are proving, with every sensational second they’re onstage, why they’re pop-punk heavy-weights. The musicianship, the effortless banter, the charisma – all of it is what puts All Time Low on top. And they’re dishing everything out for us at Margaret Court.

New touring member to the band, Dan Swank, is having a birthday! “Not only is it his first time in Australia, it’s also Dan’s birthday! Let’s all sing Happy Birthday 3 or 4 times.” Gaskarth chirps happily into the mic. We’re having none of it. There’s only one thing we want him to do.

Starting as a dull drone, and growing to a yell, the room is full of;

Shooey! Shooey! Shooey!

“You guys are fucked. You know that right? This is so completely depraved. Who the fuck thought this was a good idea?” Gaskarth might be appauled, but Barakat has already whipped off his shoe (suspiciously fast), and Swank has filled it with beer. Down the hatch. The applause is next-level.

And then we are thrown back into it. Winding our way through bagner, old and new, I have to stop us at Fake As Hell. As he absolutely tears up his vocal chords delivering us spine-tingling belts, Gaskarth takes a minute to thank the queen of pop-punk. The one. The only. My first musical hero. The other-half of the poppy, sardonic tune; Avril Lavigne. “Make some noise for Avril Lavigne. Here in spirit. She’s eternal.” Fuck! Yes! As the punchy, tongue-in-cheek tribute comes to a close. Gaskarth takes a minute to address us, after a heckle from the front row.

“I’m 15!”

“Oh fuck yeah dude! No, seriously, that’s great. Who here saw us when they were 15?” A bunch of twenty-somethings hiding purple hair in the corporate world cheer. “Thanks for growing up with us guys.”

It’s a very sweet moment and reminds me of why I loved bands like All Time Low in high school. They’re messy, they make mistakes, they’re human. They understood what growing up was like.

“Alright now for something less sappy. This is the horniest song All Time Low have ever written. And I won’t apologise.” The song in question is, of course, New Religion. The stage is bathed in purple and red light. It’s just sensational. Gaskarth purrs into the mic, accompanied by the hypnotic drum work of Dawson. The song is extra hot, and extra heavy.

The set goes by in a dream. It’s alive, it’s electric. Each song is punchier than the last. And I’m not entirely sure how we ended up with the band stopping, Barakat taking the mic and asking Gaskarth; “Hey, have you ever? Ever felt like this?” Zack Merrick chimes in, “Where strange things happen?!” And suddenly, they’re playing Round The Twist. They’re dancing to Round The Twist. All Time Low, are playing Round The Twist. What the fuck is going on. We’re losing it. Some people are trying to film it, but laughing too hard, others are headbanging. Barakat was absolutely right when he said; “Glad to know you all still stand for your national anthem.” All Time Low casually pulling out maybe the most iconic live music moment of 2023. Go off boys. Their commitment to the bit is second-to-none.

And as teenage Nikki favourites like Weightless play out, I get a little teary as we hit the last song of the encore. “Take us home everyone!” And in perfect unision, fuelled by patriotism and teen angst, we sing out the end of Dear Maria, Count Me In. And it’s over. The lights come up and it doesn’t feel real. We were somewhere else. A delightful time capsule of a bygone age of hairspray, shitty bangles and musical perfection. And god do I want to go back.

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Gig ReviewsReviews
November 2, 2023
Raelee Atkinson

[Review] Thornhill @ Moore Park, Sydney 28/10/2023

I’ve been wanting to see Thornhill for a while now, so last Saturday night, I finally got to tick that one off my list. It was October 28th and at Moore Park, The Entertainment district in Sydney. It was a busy night, with a Halloween dance party at the Hordon Pavilion and Sir Paul McCartney playing next door at Allianz stadium. But at Liberty Hall, Sydney metalheads lined up early and gathered for the final night of the Prom Queen City Tour. Which had the amazing line up that was Bloom (Syd), Thousand Below (USA), Holding Absence (UK) and Thornhill (Melb).

First up were Sydneysiders, Bloom. I wasn’t familiar with them but colour me impressed! They brought the energy and entertained with a 7 song setlist warming up the crowd with Laughing Stock, Bound To Your Whispers, Sink Into The Soil, Daylight, Siren Song, The Service and finished the set off with Cold. At the end of the evening I was chatting with a fellow and he said that Bloom is his new favourite Sydney-based band! Big call considering the bands in Sydney, but I admit, these lads are impressive, so keep an eye out for them on future tours – definitely worth checking out.

Next up were American “homies” Thousand Below, who took to the stage with a powerful 8 song set including, Hell Finds You Everywhere, Venenosa, Tradition, Silent Season, 171 xo, The Love You Let Too Close, No Place Like You and rounding the set out with Sabotage. Thousand Below did a great job of hyping the crowd where Bloom left off. At the conclusion of the set, the singer introduced himself as James and said he was going to be over at the merch stand and wanted to meet everyone. I’d already staked out my favourite spot at this venue, so I wasn’t moving for anyone, not even a friendly American (soz), not even for the line up at the ladies loos, nope, not budging. 

Then it was time for Welsh post-hardcore alt rockers, Holding Absence, who played an energetic 8 song set which had us all singing along to songs like, Like A Shadow, Aching Longing, Gravity, Scissors, A Crooked Melody, Her Wings, Afterlife and ended the set with The Angel In The Marble. The night before, Holding Absence had played a full set in my hometown of Newcastle, but with a “bangover” neck ache from the previous weekend seeing Bury Tomorrow, I’d piked out to save my energy for the trip down to Sydney and this show – but now I’m kicking myself for not mustering up the energy and seeing the full set show cos these guys are fan-bloody-tastic. 

Finally, it was time for the headliners, metalcore / alt rock,  ARIA nominated Melbournites known as Thornhill.  The line up currently consists of guitarist Ethan McCann, Drummer Ben Maida, Bassist Nick Sjogren and Vocalist / guitarist Jacob Charlton. The lads blazed onto the stage with latest single, Viper Room, then led into Heroine favourite, Arkangel,  followed with Views From The Sun, The Haze and Red Summer where Holding Absence vocalist, Lucas Woodland joined them on stage to add some gnarly growls. Next up were Hollywood followed by Casanova, then the band left the stage with no explanation and I still have no idea why, for about a 2 minute interlude, then they returned to the stage to play Something Terrible Came With The Rain. The crowd moshed hard and sang along loudly to The Hellfire Club, and Leather Wings. Next up was the moody All The Light We Don’t See, then the crowd sang along enthusiastically to Lily & The Moon, the audience circle moshed during Coven, and Raw. Thornhill finished the set and the tour with Where We Go When We Die. 

Frontman, Jacob Charlton’s falsetto vocals are transcendent, taking you on an emotional journey with him, and his dance style and hip movements took me right back to the days where I was on the rail watching a young Michael Hutchence in INXS. The band were tight and played a good mix of songs from both albums. The Sydney audience showed their appreciation as Thornhill put on an impressive performance and definitely lived up to the hype.

All four bands put on a great show and left the crowd happily satisfied and a bit tired from all the moshing and singing. Holding Absence are currently continuing their Noble Art Of Self Destruction tour with Thornhill as their guest support band in Germany and the UK.

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Gig ReviewsReviews
October 18, 2023
Emily White

[Review] The Chicks @ Rod Laver Arena 16/10/2023

It has been six long years since country music royalty, The Chicks, last graced Australian shores. Returning in the light of their 2020 studio album, Gaslighter; The Chicks once again echoed their routine sell-out of Melbourne’s Rod Laver Arena. Coupled with Ohio’s country-pop royalty Elle King, this Monday night hoedown played out as a dream come true for eagerly awaiting country music enthusiasts.

From the first beat, Elle King had transformed Melbourne’s inner-city arena into an all-American bluegrass festival. Carrying such strong Midwest influence in both her musical performance and stage persona, Elle’s presencewas intoxicating. Not only do her classic americana vocals bring an authenticity to the set, but so do her incredible four-piece band – who played a rhythmically flawless catalogue of upbeat hits.

Elle comes across to audiences as a multi-dimensional performer. At once being a bright, pastel Barbie sweetheart, before seamlessly tapping into a raw and unapologetic female powerhouse persona. Although, after spending the better part of an hour with her, it is likely Elle’s ‘persona’ is less of a façade, and more an upscaled display of her gorgeous, bubbly personality. The most anticipated moment of the set was experiencing the chart-topping hit Ex’s & Oh’s live. Perfectly positioned as an audience vocal warm-up, the single also acted as a way of signalling an obvious post-virality change of pace in the songwriter’sdiscography. Since 2014, Elle has retained her angsty lyrical undertones, whilst leaning into a more authentic bluegrass, country-rock sound.

Showcasing her latest LP, Come Get Your Wife, bluesy keys and guitars played out the set. Bouncing around the stage, the performer boasted about the joys of being a mother, eventually bringing her gorgeous two-year old son to the stage – the inspiration behind her 2023 single Lucky. The warm, homely energy mustered on stage acted as an easy sell for fans of The Chicks, who at their roots are a fanbase built upon female strength and empowerment.

Counting thirteen GRAMMY Awards, six Billboard Music Awards, and four American Music Awards is only the tip of the iceberg when considering the huge success The Chicks (formally Dixie Chicks), have amounted over their more than three-decade long career. Returning to Australia for the fifth time, Melbourne fans were more than ready to experience The Chicks once more, but this time with a fresh name, and an even fresher sound. Gaslighter is a ground-breaking album for country listeners – pairing the best of bluegrass instrumentalism with country-pop lyricism, and bound by bold, feminist undertones and branding. This new era of The Chicks has broadened the scope for the band’s fanbase, reinforcing them as a household name year after year. 

Sparkling cowboy boots and wide-brimmed hats filled the arena floor, as the night’s main act took to the stage. Anticipation filled the air, and was completely devoured by a trippy, television-static visuals on stage. Disorientating the crowd with the hums of instrumental tuning, radio segments, and distorted snippets of their discography; we were in for not only a musical concert, but a high-production spectacle. Hypnotic imaging and artistically skewed feminist propaganda of the past joined the iconic opening harmonies of title track, Gaslighter. Suddenly dropping the halfway curtain on stage to reveal a multi-level six-piece band, along with three freestanding mics for the leading ladies. Dressedto the nines, founding bandmembers Emily Strayer and Martie Maguire made their way downstage, maintaining the pace of the upbeat, country heartbreak anthem. Soon after being met by lead vocalist Natalie Maines; the band had once again been reunited, ready to treat fans to a two-hour ‘best of’ special.

Sin Wagon was a major change of pace, fulfilling the crowd’s need for some classic country dance music. Accompanied by fast-paced banjo and fiddle, the musical talents of The Chicks is beyond belief. Playing with such versatility and effortlessness, it was impossible to take your eyes off the trio dressed in gorgeous, classy black and bejewelled leather. Performing their new album in close to its entirety, Texas Man and Julianna Calm Down continued to serve bad bitch, cowgirl energy, whilst showing-off Natalie’s incredible vocal range. A standout element giving continuity to the show was the ethereal feeling violin accompaniment, played beautifully by Martie throughout. Even in the darkest of lyrics, the upbeat and hopeful fiddler gives the tracks a signature ‘Chicks’ sound.

Diving deeper into their impressive and extensive music catalogue, the band gave us all there was to be desired. ‘We are The Chicks, and we are going to attempt to entertain you this evening’ and entertain they did. Filling the first half of the set with hit after hit including The Long Way Around, Ready to Run, and Wide Open Spaces.

A change of pace came as the band moved downstage, breaking the fourth wall in a more intimate, campfire-jam style. A standout for fans was the ladies’ several covers from their early archives including Beyonce’s Daddy Lessons, Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide, and Miley Cyrus and Dolly Parton’s Rainbowland. The clever meme-style humour of The Chicks was not lost on audiences either, as the screens behind introduced the band members using videos tapes of them as small children, and displaying song lyrics using a bouncing unicorn teleprompter.

The singalong came to a jarring end as seemingly random numbers flashed on stage – which became apparent were signifying numbers of mass-shooting fatalities, which mainly resided across the US. March March, For Her, and Everybody Loves You created a striking, politically driven segment of the show – displaying images of early LGBT and women’s movements, as well as recent riots and protests. There was no one issue which stood out as more significant than another, yet these demonstrations through music signal a need for global change, for peace and equality. Everybody Loves You is another painful, gory truth. A heart-breaking, personal insight into the mind of a survivor of sexual assault, battling with wanting to overcome their oppressor, but struggling for forgiveness; ‘It’s my body and I’m trying to forgive you, I don’t want to… Why does everybody love you?’

‘It’s time to get serious’, exclaimed Natalie, before the band ironically breaks out into a banjo-led, high energy, square-dancing track, White Trash Wedding. After such emotional ups and downs, it was refreshing to end the show with strong feminist-led narratives; Goodbye Earl, being the bookend. With the entire arena on their feet – the superstar trio played out the night with electric guitars and a rockstar personas. Leaving the stage with a standing ovation, there was no hesitation in the room when Natalie shouted, ‘We hope you’ll have us back Melbourne!’

I doubt there would be a soul who would not be back for another round of The Chicks. Though it may be years into the future, the trio have truly stood the test of time, and are guaranteed to pack out venues across Aussie shores for decades to come.

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Gig ReviewsReviews
October 16, 2023
Nikki Eenink

[Review] Peach Pit @ Northcote Theatre 11/10/2023

For me, no band, ever, has better captured the feeling of nostalgia, of warm summer days, of platonic love and the happy-go-lucky experience of solo travel quite like Vancouver indie-rock powerhouse, Peach Pit.

During the depths of COVID lockdowns, I’d seen them play a “live” show through zoom. But I’d given up hope they’d ever travel down under. But then, on some glorious weekday – they announced their tour. Instantly, I scarfed up tickets. Since then, it’s been an exhilarating wait, that honestly made me a bit nauseous with excitement. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one. Their first show sold out so quickly, even with a venue upgrade. And their second show was essentially sold out as well, with a mere straggler of tickets left. We were certainly showing the 5-piece our appreciation.

The energy at Northcote Theatre was absolutely infectious. There was a buzz in the air that made the hairs on my arm stand up straight. Australian up-and-comers Eliza and The Delusionals played an ultra-short, ultra-punchy set. Ripping through some excellent tracks from their new album; Now and Then, as well as their superb collection of singles. We were in the mood and absolutely ready to rumble.

The next hour and a half have made writing a review nearly impossible. It’s rare you see a perfect set. But there is no better word for it than, perfect. Neil Smith on lead vocals and rhythm guitar, Chris Vanderkooy on lead guitars, bassist Peter Wilton and drummer Mikey Pascuzzi have come such a long way, even in three years. They are not the same band now as the band I watched, cooped up in my room, playing thousands of kilometres away. The addition of multi-instrumentalist Dougal Bain McClean (some people have all the luck), has undeniably helped push them into new heights of “chewed bubble-gum pop” perfection.

As the stage turns red, and spotlights flicker over the crowd, I see Smith’s bouncing mane of hair before anything else. Quickly, he’s followed by Vanderkooy, The Moustached Maestro as I affectionately call him. The rest of the band appears onstage, and we are faced with 5 dudes, in t-shirts and jeans. Not too baggy, not too tight. They’re Just Some Guys. But don’t let looks fool you. These averages Joe’s are about to do something crazy to my brain chemistry.

For context, Peach Pit have a melancholic take on surf pop. Their songs are heavy with slow, soulful vocals and driving lead guitar breaks. So, I was a little shocked when the fellas launch into a cover of Slayer’s Raining Blood. Smith steps up to the microphone and in his best metal voice growls for us to “get the fuck up motherfuckers”. He is a whirling dervish of curly hair and devil-hands as the instrumental cover rages. Suddenly, it stops, and we are taken into Being So Normal. There are perhaps no two songs less compatible. But god does it work. Instantly, I’m taken somewhere else. “Show ‘em Chris!” Neil moves over to let his high school friend work his magic on that fretboard.

The volume of songs Peach Pit have in their repertoire, is unbelievable. For a band less than a decade old, the setlist is 22 songs long, and there isn’t a weak link amongst them. Having released their third album, From 2 to 3, last year, I was expecting that to be the track list for the evening. I was wrong. “Because this is our first time here, we’re going to be playing lots of older stuff! For all of you who’ve bought our merch and waited so patiently. Thanks, so much guys! We love you!”

The next hour is a blur. From driving drums and twinkling guitars of 17-year-old Nikki’s favourite song, aptly named Seventeen, to the shredding guitars of Psychics in LA – this set has it all. Old fans, new fans, stragglers off the street – everyone is jumping around, waving their hands in the air, transported to another plane of musical ecstasy. Go with your friends! That was when Smith says “This song is for when your best friend really pisses you off” you can share a look and laugh through the opening notes of Vicky. Go with your heartbroken friend, so you can scream the permanently-stuck-in-my-head hook of Shampoo Bottles. Go with your stoner friends so you can sway to the stoned lullaby that is Tommy’s Party arm-in-arm. Remember the better times. Be like the two guys in front of me, hugging and looking into each other’s eyes.

I’m so glad you’re alive!

I’m glad I’m alive too!

Fuck yeah, dudes. It’s hard not to be with Peach Pit as your soundtrack.

Private Presley has been in my top 5 favourite songs since its release. Wedged between the melancholic love-song that is Figure 8, and the summer picnic banger to end all summer picnic banger’s, Up Granville, it’s a surprise. Those early, gentle guitar notes slide over my eardrums, and I’m spellbound. Vanderkooy’s guitarwork and Smith’s pitch-perfect, dulcet vocals lull me into a dream. McClean comes out on fiddle, and the way he plays is so mournful, so beautiful, so heavenly it makes me want to scream. As we hit the climax of the song; all messy guitars, feedback, and flying hair, I realise this show is going to be one for the ages. Peach Pit is many people’s first introduction to the band, it’s slow, it’s sad, it’s iconic. Smith barely has to sing as the crowd carries us from verse to verse, chorus to chorus. A high school anthem for some, breakup song for others, and something else entirely for most – it’s an absolute showstopper.

Undeniably, and unsurprisingly, one of the highlights for the evening is Alrighty Aphrodite. The lights go orange, Smith abandons his guitar for his iconic, stoic dancing and I pick my jaw up off the floor. This song is So. Fucking. Sexy. It starts slow, with delayed guitar so it sounds like it’s wafting through fog. It’s gentle drumming feels like footsteps. The bass is present and driving. Smith’s vocals are haunting, gentle and sturdy. Exactly like the goddess for which it’s named; it’s magical, mysterious, thalassic, beautiful, and hot as hell. It infects my arms and legs, and my body is no longer mine, I follow where Peach Pit take me, and I happily resign myself to my fate.

As our penultimate finale, Chagu’s Sideturn is so high-energy, so fun, that the ache in my legs from standing is gone, and all I can think about is summertime. It’s so quintessentially Peach Pit. It reminds me of growing up in Seattle. I taste the ocean air of the Pacific Northwest; I stand under those blue skies. I want to curl up in a lawn chair with a Carlton Dry. Chris is an absolute God on the guitar. A force of nature. These guys are proof that simple, skilful musicianship can never be beaten. They dance together, hug while playing and are grinning ear to ear. They might be more stoked to be here than us.

We do a cheer for their Aussie guitar tech, Adam, and with another laugh and lick of the guitar strings, they’re off. Immediately, I’m aching for more. Luckily for me, I had bought tickets to experience the joy, the mystique and the indescribable resonance that is Peach Pit. Whatever it is, these guys have it. Go on and get a taste for yourself. But be warned, once you try some, it’ll become your favourite meal.

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Gig ReviewsReviews
October 13, 2023
Nikki Eenink

[Review] Weezer @ John Cain Arena, Melbourne 06/09/2023

With PAX Aus and Weezer’s headline tour in the same week, it’s an absolutely showstopping few days in Melbourne for white guys aged 27 to 50. And showstopping perfectly describes what greeted me onstage at John Cain Arena, Friday night. Californian indie Golden-Boys Weezer need no introduction. A perfect combination of meme-culture, unbeatable musicianship and perfect pop-banger to rock-solo percentage; they really are the upper echelon for anyone who enjoys teen movies from the 90s (or was a teen in the 90s). And so, before I introduce the cheese, the steeze “The Weeze”, let me tell you about their support.

Regurgitator follow in the highly coveted Brisbane tradition of fuck-off punk rock. Their sound is somewhere between Kraftwerk and Limp Bizkit. The Smiths meets Grunge. Two entirely separate forces that shouldn’t come together, but when they do – musical nuclear fusion. The guitars are howling, the guys are bantering and we’re all completely enamoured by the Brisbane trio and their shit-eating grins. As is customary, they begin a chant immediately after their second song of; Oi! Oi! Oi! An Australian classic. A cultural must. “Are you guys ready to hear a song that goes faster than the last one?”  (Bong In My Eye – an absolute tune, of course) “Yeah this one goes so hard” One of them moans; “Uh! So hard!” And with a cackle that would make Jack and Jill run back up that hill, they throw us headfirst into Polyester Girl. After the guitars simmer a bit, ultimate Bass-dad Ben Ely asks us a question that really needs no answer; “We’re so excited. Are you excited?” We cheer, but clearly not enough. “It’s fucking Weezer, man!” Quan Yeomans, our ever-charismatic front man chimes in, “Weeeezer!” And so, of course, we cheer. And now that our excitement is excited enough, the show continues. Blubber Boy into Fat Cop into I Wanna Be A Nudist, it’s just out of control how many tracks these guys can deliver at full energy with no faults. Even when they are forced to restart on Blubber Boy, they’re still masters. The reason for the restart, is because the old adage that “White People Have No Rhythm”, was proven at John Cain that night. They get an entire crowd to clap along – no two of us had the same rhythm. The people of the Caucus Mountains were struggling to participate in the musical madness and wonder of Regurgitator. So, they get us to start. We clap, they follow; and they blow that stereotype back out of the water. After a really good bit “How many more songs do we have left? Are we out of time?” Runs it’s natural course, we are asked one final, tantalising question; “Should we do a naughty song?” But before they have time to deliver on this, Yeomans takes the mic. “My daughter should be here somewhere! She just moved to Melbourne! Where is she?” A sea of men shove their hands in the air. “You’re not her! You’re a fella!” when one of his Regurgitator brothers asks him, “Mate, are you even wearing your glasses?” And so, they give up. I hope she was there and had as good a time as the rest of us. The World of Sleaze and ! (The Song Formally Known As) take us perfectly into the World of Weeze. (These aren’t my words, I promise. Read on to find out who said that! Intrigue!)

Teal Album is one of Weezer’s more forgotten albums. A compendium of covers spanning 3 decades, it’s miss-able, but unforgettable. In what I like to consider an homage, they play us into the dimming lights, the unmistakable hush before a show, with Africa by Toto. An iconic song, an iconic cover, an iconic show is imminent.

To save you the read: I can, without a doubt, say Weezer’s Indie Rock Roadtrip is one of the best shows I’ve seen in years. Whether you’re a hardcore Weezer fan, a casual enjoyer or a Pinkerton defender – this tour has it all. These songs are so a part of the cultural zeitgeist that it’s impossible for the whole show to not feel nostalgic, treasured, and significant.

Rivers Cuomo, Patrick Wilson, Brian Bell and Scott Shriner are in an echelon all of their own. For the next two hours, we will be lovingly chauffeured through all of the bands biggest hits – and some of their smallest. With this foursome behind the wheel, you know it’s gonna be one hell of a trip.

Starting out strong with My Name Is Jonas, we are introduced to the vibe of the trip.

Picture this:

A cartoon, semi-idealistic version of America. We are Jonas, some kid living in the outer stretches of Los Angeles, completely lost in the world of our headphones. We jump in the car with some of our friends and start our long winding road North, and East. Turning the radio, The Good Life comes on. Out the window, we can see signs for American restaurants, but it’s all fantasy. “Jamie’s In The Box” “Bran Bell” “Up N Down Burger”. And the biggest fantasy of all, Weezer is on tour. Except that’s now. That’s us! This is fantastical. Immediately, we are on this trip with them through all these things that are impossible, fantastical, but oh-so real. Pinch me.

I will never understand what it is about hearing a singer mention the town their singing in that makes crowds go feral. But they go feral. Finishing Beverly Hills with “Living in Melbourne, Australia” set the crowd off. It’s like front-man Cuomos threw us gold pieces, we were loving it.

As In The Garage comes to a close, and 11,000 people sing-shout ‘No one hears me/ No one hears me’ Cumos speaks over us. “Have you guys heard? We’re opening for KISS tomorrow!” There’s some light applause. “HEY! WE’RE OPENING FOR KISS” and he hits a mean chord on his guitar. We respond with what Rivers decrees as a worthy level of cheer for the 1970s Rock-Gods. And, in their honour, they play a punky, high-energy, guitar-forward cover of Strutter. The way lead Guitarist Brian Bell moves his hands along the guitar is spellbinding. The fretboard is an extension of his arm, the sounds leave his hands and sit in the room in perfect harmony with all the other noise. It’s impossible to tell where that skilful ends and the hot-air of GA begins. Oh, and Bell whips out the double-necked electric in true KISS spirit – what an homage.

As a Green Album girlie until the bitter end, I swear I nearly popped a blood vessel when they launched into Photograph. This is the first full-band performance of the criminally underrated release since 2015. And it’s even better live. The insane visuals, Cuomos off-kilter vocals, and the pounding drums provided by Patrick Wilson bring this track to life. I feel like I’m in IMAX, but for sound.

Undone (The Sweater Song) is one of THE Weezer tracks. Starting out of nowhere, the melancholic, drifting, delayed opening notes are barely heard under the guttural screams of excitement for one of Blue Album’s most coveted. This song isn’t short, but it flies by. The foursome never seem to tire. They can just keep playing, perfectly, never easing up on themselves (or us). The energy never drops even for a moment. Cuomos and bassist Scott Shriner jump along the stage, one leg stretched in front of them, as Bell shreds the ultimate shred. Cuomos arms are a blur of strumming, he is absolutely caning his pale-green strat – but the pain is so worth the reward. The crowd is all hands, clapping predictably out of time, and people dance-shoving. As the music swells to its predicted finale – Cuomos puts his guitar to his mouth and starts playing with his teeth. Once he’s decided to give his enamel a break and the song finishes, he plants a big, loving kiss on the green body of The Little Guitar That Could.

Next up is an absolute highlight of the show. Rivers takes to the stage, alone. Armed only with an acoustic guitar, he starts to tell us a story of young love and heartbreak. The story goes something like this;

“I really liked this girl. She called me all the time, came to Christmases with my family- the whole thing. I thought she liked me too. One day, after we hung out she said she’s call me tomorrow. But she didn’t call. I waited by the phone the after that, too. And the next. By day 14 I realised she wasn’t going to call. So, on day 19 – I wrote this song.”

I didn’t recognise Waiting on You at first. Done just with an acoustic guitar, it sounded almost like a parody. Like Kill Me Please, from The Wedding Singer. It sounded like the very stereotype of sad 90’s Rock you’d expect. Where’s Matt Groening? Is this a Simpsons sketch?

Why? Haven’t you called me?

Did you forget me?

The Arena is alight with phone torches as Cuomos laments to us, fully aware of the comedy.

Mine, is the loneliest of numbers

Now, is the loneliest of times

You’re 19 days late

But still I sit and wait

The other three Weezer members come onstage and gather around the microphone. Barbershop quartet-style, they finish the lament. The house erupts with applause.

The next song is also a romantic lament of sorts. A ballad for Geffen Records Receptionist, Susanne hits even harder acoustic. Still gathered around the mic, it’s easy to see why Weezer disarmed and wooed this woman. They’re humble, talented, dressed in vans and baggy pants (Primo Skater Chic) at 55. Listen, Susanne, we get it,.Cuomos is beating out ‘Izzy, Slash and Axel Rose’ for her affections. This 5’6, hyperactive man is Geffen’s biggest Lover-Boy. As soon as they play, they transform. Roadies strap electric guitars onto Brian Bell, and we are treated to a wonderous ending of acoustic strums and electric licks. Suddenly they’re young again, somewhere else, and ultra-handsome.

We are showing them our appreciation. “Good on ya, Melbourne!” Some guy behind me, slurring and raspy screams back, “On ya, Rivers!”

“How is it? Chilling with The Weez at John Cain Arena.” The Weez. Said with such a tongue-in-cheek earnestness I can’t help but laugh. He’s an icom. The Master of The Shitpost.

Only In Dreams starts with River on acoustic for the first verse. Suddenly, they are all strapped with electrics again. And in a literal jump onstage – the tempo picks up. The visuals behind them are a waving red and purple. They are caning the shit out of their guitar strings. Shriner is a machine on bass. This song is so bass-heavy, and he has no issues being up to the task. Filling the room with warm, open, delicately layered bass with ease.

Of course, Island in The Sun gets a play. It’s so nostalgic, and wonderful. Everyone is out of their seats, swaying together, putting their arms up, singing. It’s like the final shot of a movie, where everything’s worked out. We’ve gotten into college, got the girl of our dreams and are watching fireworks on the beach. No notes, a perfect 10.

Growing up in Seattle, Washington. I am hard-wired to recognise Mount Rainier. And there it is. On the projection screen. We are driving through the cascades on this road-trip to the home of Grunge, of 90’s melancholia, of general antics and too-much noise. All My Favourite Songs gets Cuomos on keys. And he slaps them happily as we sing along. Lyrics that are so relevant, so painful. This 2021 release from Weezer shows that the band isn’t just a group of fossils peaking 30 years ago.

Cuomos openly hates Say it Aint So, so I was not expecting it to be played. But then that opening lick plays. And the sound that left my body was inhuman. He might hate it, but the song is one of the all-time greats. A Banger to End All Bangers. God-Tier. To save himself singing the chorus, he just stands – arms and legs spread, a starfish under 5 spotlights, as the pre-chorus lick goes and 11,000 of us, in perfect, ecstatic harmony scream:

“Say it aint so! Your drug is a heart breaker.

Say it aint so! My love is a life taker.”

My personal favourite part of the song, the bridge, is magical. The lights turn red and then purple and blue, and swirl around the foursome.

“This bottle of Stevens, awakens ancient feelings”

They start to slam on their strings and build until it’s all noise and 3 simultaneous solos that wind and weave and become alive together. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. These songs I thought I knew, are so much more vivid in Weezer’s guiding hand.

“Are you guys enjoying the road trip?” Cuomos asks us. Does he even need to ask? He grins at the amount of noise we make in response. “It’s not a road trip ‘til dad takes a photo”. And he pulls out a polaroid. Referring to himself as Dad makes him even more likeable. If such a thing is possible. He snaps pics of all sides of the room and takes us into the end of the show.

Hash Pipe is such a phenomenal way to finish their main set. It’s aggressive, fast and punchy. The visuals of bats eyes, faded, bloodshot and spinning is such a great homage to the King’s of Stoner-Core. For the Guitar Hero friend next to me, it was a pretty huge closer.

Thank You and Good Night has our foursome standing on steps at the back of the stage, shredding together. I hate encores, but my fingers and toes are crossed for more.

And more is what we get.

The Waste Land is muddy, grungey and layered. They walk onstage and add to its layers one by one until we are carried on an almighty wave of perfect sound. Black Sabbath are pissing their pants a little with this one.

Surf Wax America is so quintessentially Weezer. It’s jumpy, fun and best shared at a barbeque. Blue Album remains one of the best in any genre, because of its versatility. This is not the same band they were just one song ago. But I am loving it. We all sing off-key, delighted and carefree.

A testament to the absolute mountain of songs Weezer has in their arsenal, is a major hit I had completely forgotten about in the fun and the fervour. Buddy Holly. Everyone’s favourite Spike Jonze music video. A staple in the Weezer canon. It’s amazing for one of a band’s major hits to have escaped my mind because I was so enraptured by everything they had going on. These guys could play one chord and I’d be spellbound. Another Blue Album staple, we are quick to show our adoration. The video in the background is of people roller-skating around. And while we can’t roller-skate, we can dance. And dance we do. With fun little licks, delightful harmonies and a beat that’s impossible not to move to – this song really has it all.

At this point, they’ve proven they’re an unbeatable unit with unbelievable, untranscribable skill. But it’s fucking ridiculous they played for 2 hours with no mistakes. Oh, what I’d give to bottle those 2 hours and live there.

Buddy Holly packs a punch, and so they leave us stunned, thrilled, desperate for another forgotten-hit. I’m in a daze, and this was 2 days ago. You could not ask for a better night.

If  Weezer have 1 fan it’s me if they have no fans I’m dead. I love you Weezer. And you would too. Buy tickets next time, I promise you’ll leave happier, bouncier and beachier.  And maybe just a little bit stoned.

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Gig ReviewsReviews
October 6, 2023
Kynan Arden

[Review] Ghost @ John Cain Arena 04/10/2023

Whether you’re a Christian, Satanist, Pagan, or devote your life to any spiritual realm, it has always been clear to me the Ghost has always reached diverse audiences around the world. The satanic aesthetic created by Papa Emeritus IV and his cult of Nameless Ghouls has always drawn my wandering eyes to fix on them, whilst also seducing my ears to their incredible sound. Seeing this group live amongst the face-painted and costume clad fans was a sight to worship.

After a slightly delayed wait with a holy voices of a cathedral choir echoing from behind the white drapes that concealed the stage, the opening acoustic licks of Imperium were almost drowned out by the screaming of the packed John Cain Arena, all before the silhouette of a certain axe-shredding ghoul appeared colossal on the white curtain as he jammed the upbeat opening riff to Kaisarion. The curtains dropped whilst the ghouls brought on an anthem for Papa himself to grace the stage, blessing us with iconic vocals that you could identify in a second.

A quintessential Ghost performance is always nothing short of a jaw-dropping spectacle, from the set design of a cathedral depicting at first holy imagery on stained class to later depict hellish imagery towards the climax of the show, all the way down to the light-work that perfectly complimented the backdrop of each individual track, an example being the appropriate deep red as the opening of Year One chanted the many names of our favourite horned red man: 

“BELIAL. BEHEMOTH. BEELZEBUB. ASMODEUS. SATANAS. LUCIFER”

But despite each nameless ghoul getting moments to shine throughout the show, it’s obvious who the prominent character was, as Papa Emeritus had all of our eyes completely glued to him from start to finish. As highlighted previously, his vocal style and genius lyricism has cultivated its own powerful authenticity and has been become iconic within the music community let alone the rock/metal genres, reaching its height especially in the slower yet still hard tracks like Cirice and Call Me Little Sunshine. His swift costume changes were also a sight to behold, as each short interval between each track had him emerging with something new, including a steampunk top-hat, shadow-casting bat wings, his of course iconic elegant and gothic Pope outfit, all the way down to his shining red and blue “after show jackets”.

The humour and banter between the band members never failed to make me chuckle, from Papa’s charismatic humour between songs or the playful scolding of either of the soloing guitarists. We even received a cameo from a longtime Ghost character, Papa Nihil, emerging disorderly from a glass box to performing an earth shattering saxophone solo during Miasma, right before Papa uses this to segway into the next track in which “Nihil sings”, this track being the iconic Mary On A Cross, and it matters not whether you were a ghost fan before this track circled the world, or became a fresh listener of the band after the track’s popularity across TikTok, there’s no doubt every soul in the arena belted every single lyric, myself included. 

As the climax approached, Papa gave a little speech in appreciation of the community and support all before announcing the final song for the night, Respite on the Spitefields, before Ghost departed the stage….all for a short while before Papa re-emerged in response to the call-out of the audience, bantering over being told about us “expecting a classic rock show with an encore”. The charismatic frontman agreed to the crowd’s demand for three more songs (not too fond of a front row “crazy lady’s” suggestion of five songs), before the lights revealed the remaining ghouls in the darkness kicking off the encore with the ever risqué Kiss the Go-Goat. The remaining two songs required our strengthened necks for head banging and dancing shoes, for the lights radiated and glimmered with a colourful disco palate for the upbeat Dance Macabre, transitioning ever so smoothly alongside a final thanks from Papa Emeritus into the enigmatic yet powerful Square Hammer, in which the volume of the opening riff had to compete with the screams of the crowd one final time. 

As Ghost finally departed from the stage and instructing us to “fuck off” as well, I was positively buzzing for the rest of the night, as I had been apart of a mass ritual that I will not forget anytime soon, a ritual which should be experienced at least once in a lifetime…

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Gig ReviewsReviews
September 25, 2023
Cassandra Hale

[Review] Punk Rock Factory @ Stay Gold 23/09/2023

A beautiful Melbourne day saw the punters turning out early for a night of wicked punked up covers with UK’s Punk Rock Factory. With the line snaking around to Sydney Road, Melbourne Music haunt Stay Gold was going to be pumping, so I jumped in line quickly to ensure I saw all the nights entertainment. Melbourne five piece Among The Restless opened the proceedings to a rapidly filling room. It was fantastic to see so many people coming early to take in all the bands and enjoy a bevie or two.

Among The Restless are no strangers to Stay Gold and it was evident from the get-go that they felt right at home. Giving us a quick-fire set of five they had heads nodding and people dancing from their opening song Torn. They are an energetic lot, instantly engaging, quicky winning over the crowd as they worked through their set. Lucy seemed to hit the spot as people progressed towards the stage keen to see a bit more of what Among The Restless had to offer. Finishing out with Someone Else their first single from back in 2020, they certainly made some new fans along with the ones I saw singing throughout their time on stage. Definitely one to check for an exciting live performance.

Also based in Melbourne are alt/pop punk group PAPERWEIGHT. Offering a red hot thirty-minute set, they left nothing in the tank as they got sweaty with the swiftly expanding dance floor of punk rock fans. Once again, these guys are regulars at Stay Gold having played their first gig there just a few years ago. With many fans in their own right, they had the room jumping as they ploughed through their set. Scapegoat was one I really enjoyed, PAPERWEIGHT’s refreshing take on pop punk created a terrific vibe in Stay Gold and set the scene for the headliners. Another appealing local band that I would recommend you check out. We are so flush with amazing music here in Melbourne please go out and find some new bands to support.

It has been a long wait to get Punk Rock Factory here to Australia, but we have been patient, knowing the day would finally come. So on this mild September evening with footy finals in the air the hoards still swarmed to get a piece of punk rock action. With almost 10 years under their belts pumping out punk rock covers of our childhood memories along with other favourites PRF have built a huge following. While I am not so ofay with Tik Tok I’m told that’s the place to be for PRF fans. So it was time to see what all they hype was about, hold on to your hats as I take you through a night with UK’s finest, Punk Rock Factory.

Stay Gold was fit to bulging with punk rock lovers, there was multi-coloured mohawks, there was plenty of tartan and leather but there was also a feeling of unity. People finding their tribe for a night, feeling comfortable in their own skin and dropping their inhibitions and losing themselves to the music. Opening with Pokémon to cheers and screams PRF were off and running, Under The Sea and Power Rangers was a ripping trifecta too get the fans warmed up, keen to see what other delights would make an appearance.  Vocalist Peej kept up cheeky banter across the night, the friendship between these guys is apparent from the minute they set foot on stage. Offering up a $200 merch voucher to one lucky fan which quickly had people jumping on their phones to be in with a chance. Mamma Mia had everyone singing in their finest musical voices and You’re Welcome saw guitarist Ryan take to the crowd armed with two mobile phones filming the shenanigans. Of course the sing offs were many and the collective voices were loud and proud trying to claim their side of the room being the loudest.

With so many hits to choose from in their repertoire it was exciting to see what would come next, Thundercat filled that slot followed closely by Can You Feel The Love Tonight. The Farnsy classic You’re The Voice was up next and had everyone in the room raising their vocal range a cog or two, Kob smashing the drumkit to within an inch of its life. SpongeBob Square Pants, Defying Gravity and the Hamilton banger You’ll Be Back had hands waving in their air as they jumped into Running Up That Hill. Benj had the bass covered as We Don’t Talk About Bruno took it up a level, punters singing every word. Let It Go the Frozen classic that took the world by storm was up next, this punked up version was a standout of the night, even the punkest of punks singing with gusto. While the crowd was jammed packed they remained respectful all night, just there to enjoy the music and have a lot of fun. It was really encouraging to see such an eclectic group come together as one after years of missing out on the live music scene.  Many would have been happy to end the night there, but I had a feeling they could pull a few more from their punk covers pot. After a brief exit they retuned with a fitting finisher in Down Under. This certainly got the blood pumping and our patriotic chests puffed out. Add to this the Moana ripper How far I’ll Go and it was a setlist of dreams.  

Their set flew by in what seemed like minutes but after the warm welcome we afforded them we can only hope that Punk Rock Factory will be back Down Under again very soon. Bringing joy to our ears with the songs of our youth, slung with a modern twist made for an exceptional night of fun. I for one will welcome them back with my punk rock arms wide open.

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Gig ReviewsReviews
July 4, 2023
Nikki Eenink

[Review] King Stingray @ The Forum, Melbourne 01/07/2023

Review By Nikki Eenink

Never has it felt more appropriate to recognise the People’s whose land I work and write on; the Wurrundjeri people of the Kulin Nation. Australia is home to the longest living culture on Earth, whose tradition of oral storytelling often involved song. As a music-writer, gig-goer, and story-lover – It’s important to recognise and honour that tradition, and the many ways it is carried on throughout our country. This always was, always will be Aboriginal land.

Australia is a country that is unbelievably diverse, in landscape, in people and in sound. On Saturday night, I was treated to three acts from all across the country: from the small-town shores of Kojonup to sleepy Adelaide and then all the way north to Arnhem land. I’ve never seen The Forum so full. Doors were at 7, and by the time the clock struck 8 – it was full. Strangers standing shoulder to shoulder, filling the walkways and the floor. We ourselves were so diverse. I saw two twenty-somethings in bright pink coats and red leather pants, a middle-aged man fresh from BCF rocking a cap and boardies, and everything in between.

First act of the night were WA’s own, Old Mervs. To say this duo are “up-and-comers”, is putting it lightly. With over 200,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, I’d be expecting them to become a household name tossed around along with snags at a barbeque. Major hit Cellphone absolutely rocks the crowd at The Forum. It combines King Krule-esque vocal stylings with Ocean Alley’s Aus-Rock sensibilities. Wearing baggy shirts, partially unbuttoned and jeans, these are two guys I could’ve gone to highschool with. Unbelievably chill, but undeniably polished, Henry and David are bringing surf rock back, baby. Childhood friends since they were 5, they innately understand the other, moving like a single organism. The surf-rock renaissance is back, bring it on, bruh.

Although a tough act to follow, we completely shift gears with second support, George Alice. We’ve swapped shaggy blonde hair and a slacker attitude for feminine melancholy and RnB vocals. Australia needs more women in its music scene, and Georgia Mannion took matters into her own hands. At only 20 years old, she’s already quickly soaring through the charts and quickly cementing herself as a newcomer not to be messed with. Long bleached blonde waves cascade over her shoulders as she places two hands lightly on the mic stand. The voice that comes out of her is incredible. Strong, with a gorgeous vibrato and a self-assured gentleness – she has us wrapped around her little finger. Hold On is where her voice really shines. The crowd that was letting loose and dancing is now deathly still, not wanting to break the spell she’s cast on us. My arms are covered in goosebumps. But it’s not all achingly gorgeous semi-ballads, songs like Stuck in a Bubble do an amazing job prepping us for the high-energy main act that’s about to come onstage.

It’s hard to describe the hold King Stingray had over us that night. From the moment it seems like the house lights might dim, people go ballistic. Boys jump in the air, someone screams an ungodly scream, hands are thrown into the air. The anticipation is killer. And not long after, King Stingray comes onstage. This 6-piece, absolute weapon of a band are dressed so casually, it’s almost humorous. They really look like they just stumbled onstage at first. But then they play. And my God, can they play. It’s just banger after banger. The nervous shuffling is replaced with ripper guitar solos, multi-instrument changes and powerful vocals. King Stingray are a delight, in every sense of the word. The room is buzzing, nay, pulsing with energy. Constant heckles of “Yeah!” or, better yet, “Fuck yeah!”, “Deadly!” all fill the room. I moved further to the back of the room as the dancefloor became too hot for my winter getup, and The Forum looked like an ocean. Waves of sound created a sea of hands and bodies and heads, all moving together.

There are many parallels between King Stingray and another iconic Indigenous band, Yothu Yindi. Lead singer Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu is the nephew of Dr. M. Yunupiŋu. and guitarist Roy Kellaway is the son of Stuart Kellaway, who were both founding members of Yothu Yindi. The pair have known each other since childhood. The band is already heavily enmeshed in Australian music culture, King Stingray signed to The Chats’ ‘Bargain Bin Records’, after Yunupiŋu and Kellaway released the band’s first single, Hey Wanhaka. Hey Wanhaka gets a feature tonight, to thunderous applause, jumping and stamping feet. The standout of the night for me, is Dimathaya Burarrwanga’s absolutely unreal didgeridoo playing. It melts perfectly among their 6-voices, adding a layer of depth musically unlike anything else I’ve ever heard. King Stingray are clearly very connected to their Indigeneity, and it surrounds all of their songs in a way that is so beautiful and profoundly fulfilling. We are watching more than a concert, we are watching thousands of years of cultural tradition, of community building, of brotherhood.

I want to stay true to my roots / I want to stay here with you

For Australian cultural icon, Triple J’s; Like A Version, King Stingray performed a cover of Yellow by Coldplay. I didn’t ever imagine I’d see The Forum filled with perfectly in-tune clapping hands.

“We’re going to need some help with this one”, before everyone launches into Yellow. Band and audience, we’re all screaming those lyrics at the top of our lungs. They play an extended version, to give each instrumentalist the chance to leave their mark on us, and the stage. Their energy is insane, never dipping, even for a moment.

Obviously, mega-hit Milkumana goes off. People are scrambling on top of their friends shoulders to make room for more bodies on the ever eager dancefloor. The guy to my left is jumping so high he nearly touches the ceiling, and I see a lad in a bucket hat ushering his band of merry bandits onto the dancefloor. The lighting is incredible here too. Black, yellow and red circles dance around the band. They’re bathed in the colour of the Aboriginal flag, and we are bathed in blissful sound. I remember the first time I heard Milkumana, I was 25 minutes late to an appointment because of traffic, but honestly, I didn’t care. If you want the vibes of an easy summers day, this is a guaranteed serotonin-booster.

Yunupiŋu poses a question to us; “Melbourne, why is it so cold down here? We gotta leave fast, it’s fucking freezing.” Kellaway jumps in, “Western Gapuwiyak, where the sun goes down – that’s what this song is about. Getting out of the city.” Campbell Messer, their phenomenal bassist, takes to the mic; “Thank you so much for coming out tonight. Everybody raise their hands up, facing your palms towards us.” A tidal wave of hands find their way to fresh air. “Look at all those colours. Beautiful. This song is to Strangers. You and me. Brothers and sisters. We bleed together.”  Yunupiŋu reiterates, “Nah, but seriously, get me out of the city.” With a laugh and a wink they launch into the penultimate track of the night; Get me Out.

Coming on for their encore, drummer Lewis Stiles does a SOMERSAULT (an honest-to-god somersault) onstage, leaping high in the air to take his seat behind the set. Let’s Go is such a mammoth way to finish. Everyone’s dancing and the band is pulling out all the stops. The tearing vocals, the unbelievable didgeridoo playing, the elegant bass-lines – not a hair out of place. It’s absolutely perfect. I see people going to leave, trying to beat the crush, but they can’t. They stand at the top of the stairs, frozen, unable to look away.

And then, it’s over, and I’m gutted. We all have more in us. It was such an unbelievable night. No other band does it quite like King Stingray. If you haven’t seen them, what are you doing? I won’t be able to get this night out of my head for a very, very long time.

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Gig ReviewsReviews
June 27, 2023
Nikki Eenink

[Review] 10CC @ Palais Theatre, Melbourne 25/06/2023

Review By Nikki Eenink

My dad and I often argue about music; Are The Beatles overrated? Is Lola the best pop song? These things are unknowable. The one thing we don’t argue about: 10cc. They have to be the most underrated rock band of their era (and beyond), and I was lucky enough to have the best night in a long time when “The Worst Band in The World” took the Palais Theatre stage this Sunday.

Belgian-born but Melbourne-based singer-songwriter Romanie is the opener for the night. She played a snappy 30-minute set to eager ears, and it was a delightful start to a super fun night. 10cc didn’t have support acts for many of their concerts this tour, so I feel very blessed to have been treated to the angelic vocals and gorgeous guitar strummings of Romanie, complimented gorgeously by the Palais’ epic acoustics. Her set wasn’t long enough, and yet somehow she managed to cram in a string of heavy-hitters; Changing, Little Big Steps, Anthony and I’m Anything (But Myself Around You) were all part of this gut-wrenchingly wonderful entrée. Romanie reminds me of when I would roll down the sun-roof and windows of my family’s old Rav4 and drive as fast as I (legally) could down the hills of my hometown. These musical musings are the perfect soundtrack for an indie movie, they have a timeless, nostalgic appeal about them that is really hard to capture in words. Romanticise your life, and relive memories to Romanie this week –she’s something special.

Like clockwork, at 8pm sharp the lights go dim and 5 shadows take the stage. When the lights come up, the 5 shadows have faces – and Hawaiian shirts, a floral blazer and a row of instruments behind them. They have the energy of 5 dads at a barbeque, not rock Gods. Let’s meet the crew who will be steering this one way cruise to Good Vibe Island, shall we? On keyboards, vocals, bass guitar and electric guitar; Keith Hayman. On vocals, keyboards, bass guitar, electric guitar, acoustic guitar, (the fact that the list keeps going beyond this point is ridiculous) percussion, mandolin (ok, now you’re just bragging) and synth, Iain Hornel. These two are newly-welcomed, touring members of the 10cc band – and their talent elevates this already insanely musically talented bunch onstage to new heights. On lead guitar, vocals and acoustic guitar is someone who’s been part of 10cc since the very early days, Rick Fenn. The strong and silent type, Paul Burgess, is their sensational drummer. “He’s been with us since the very beginning, and I’m happy to say he’s still with us”, quips original guitarist and prolific songwriter, Graham Gouldman. I can’t say any one of them was “a front man” or anything like that – they’re an ensemble, and a tight one at that. They all have so much fun together throughout the night, but good god are they unbelievably skilled musicians. During mega-hit Rubber Bullets, I catch Gouldman bashing Hayman’s keyboard with the side of his guitar – all while shredding an intricate riff in perfect harmony with the rest of the guys.

We were promised a night of nostalgia and hits. To quote the Facebook event:

NO STANDING. ALL THE HITS!

And they stayed true to their end of the bargain – we did not.

To quote Smash Mouth; The hits start coming, and they don’t stop coming. Starting off with personal favourite, The Dean and I we are thrown into an ocean of bangers. I mean, seriously, it’s fucking ridiculous. They could fill a 2-hour set with iconic hit after iconic hit, and the audience still had space in our bellies for more. As they moved into The Wall Street Shuffle, it hit me; I’m surrounded by middle-aged women and barbeque dads… and I’ve never fit in so well. Someone pass me a hat and a lawn chair, It’s time to have a beer and listen to 10cc like the retiree I was always meant to be. There’s no other band like them, and there never will be. Known for songs heavy in goof-factor, like Life Is A Minestrone, I was taken aback by how insanely stellar their instrumentation is. Virtuosos, the lot of them. They wind through hits and play different arrangements to keep us on our toes, adding a prog-Rock factor to many of them that isn’t there on the albums. Sometimes, just for a moment, Fenn’s floral blazer, Gouldman’s Hawaiian shirt and the grey hairs fade away, and I can see them as young men, at the top of their game, making their musical mark on the world. There is undeniably a rockstar spirit about them, they capture the duality between comradery, silliness and shenanigan with diligence, creativity, and originality better than any other band I’ve had the privilege of seeing. The way Gouldman speaks about former 10cc members, specifically illustrious songwriters Kevin Godley and Lol Crème, is with such respect, love and care. There seems to be no bad blood between them. When talking about Fenn, Burgess and Hayman, it’s clear that Gouldman seems them as musical brothers. They are a family, where bad blood is bad blood but there’s no one else you’d rather share blood with. This respect for each other, and for their music, shines through. There is such an air of love and nostalgia tonight, and it’s delightful.

It’s not all common hits, we are treated to new song Floating in Heaven, about Gouldman’s love for the James Webb Space Telescope. “I wrote this and sent it to my record company, and they said ‘It’s absolutely fantastic’. Obviously. But it would be even better if you could get Brian May on it. Not only is he an exceptional guitarist, but he’s also a passionate astronomer and astrophysicist. So he said ‘Ok, I love it’, and he sings on it and plays guitar and he” Gouldman gestures side-stage, “is not here tonight.” We all laugh. “But Rick Fenn is!” We all cheer. Floating in Heaven is lovely. It’s simple, it’s gorgeous, and the three-way layered vocals which reverberate so wonderfully, thanks in-part to the Palais’ acoustics, give me goosebumps.

Then we head into two songs where I feel they really shine. I’m Not in Love is first. My dad has this memory of when he was 13 and would listen to the radio in The Netherlands, and when this song came on – it blew his mind. He didn’t know music could sound that way, and he was hooked. My dad is now a music junkie (seriously, someone should stage an intervention), and this song takes some credit for that. I thought the complex vocal and instrumental layers which feature on the track wouldn’t be achievable live, but you should never doubt 10cc. They pull it off. Hornel changes instruments about 6 times, and all four vocalists are working together, and it’s spellbinding. I am washed clean by a river of sound. A musical baptism if you will. Next, is The Things We Do For Love, I’m Not in Love’s poppier big sister. Live it sounds almost melancholic, with Hornel’s vocals hitting insane notes and with those lyrics… perfection. For anyone who’s ever had their heart broken, broken their own heart or been in a complicated Situationship – this one’s for you, us, me. It’s also for the teenage daughter and her dad next to me, he’s holding back tears and she’s grooving – love these guys, great vibes from seat 34 and 35.

Now, here’s the thing about that whole: NO STANDING, thing. I think we will be standing, actually, and not just standing – dancing. As soon as Dreadlock Holiday plays, everyone’s up. Groups of women twirl with each other, teens sidestep, and uncles tap their feet. The song just goes stupidly hard, every time you hear it. I get genuinely sad when it ends. It’s the perfect road-trip song, perfect party beat, hell, I might even have the first dance at my Elvis chapel wedding to it. My daydreams are cut short by the squeals of delight from the crowd when our ship-captains change the lyrics to,

I don’t like Melbourne/ oh no! / I love it!

Insane. They love us?! We love them!! What a dream come true!!

Then, the encore. “This is going to be an acapella version of Donna.” They really don’t run out of ideas, do they? So, they gather around the mic, and in true barbershop quartet fashion, belt out an insane version of the 1972 hit. It seems appropriate to end on one of the band’s first releases. Drummer Paul Burgess comes up to the mic for the final,

“Donna / I love you”.

His deep baritone voice is both shocking and impressive.

“That was Donna by Paul Burgess, ladies and gentlemen.” We go nuts. The most Australian man in history is sitting behind me and nearly rips his vocal cords screaming; “ONYA PAUL” Legend.

But wait! It’s not over! How could it be? We haven’t heard Rubber Bullets yet!

If you haven’t heard them live, you still haven’t really heard Rubber Bullets. The flashing red and blue lights, the hilarious lyricism delivered with the perfect wit and in perfect harmony, the absolute descent into madness onstage – it’s an experience all on its own. To watch them relax into this last number after delivering a set I couldn’t criticise if I tried is so lovely. Even when they’re mucking around; dancing together, kicking their legs, play fighting using their guitars as swords; they’re on the same wavelength.

And then, it’s over. Their enduring bond and passion for music bring everyone to their feet. A standing ovation. I think someone threw their bra. Rock and Roll is back baby, and 10cc is making sure of it.

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