So, I get a call from Hendo:
“You keen to see some chick swing from the ceiling and shred guitar while hanging upside down?”
It’s Saturday night. My plans involved getting comfortably stoned, yelling at the footy, and possibly burning whatever was left in the fridge. So I said, “Yeah, why the fkn not.”

Truth be told, I’d never been to Gasworks Arts Park, had no idea who Andrea Krakovská was, and didn’t expect much beyond an interesting night out. But I’m always up for weird and wonderful, so I headed into Port Melbourne with an open mind, a decent jacket, and zero expectations.

Rolling into the venue, I grabbed a tinnie and scoped the place out. The Gasworks Hub has a certain feel—tight-knit, a bit artsy, definitely intimate. You get the sense it’s a “if you know, you know” kinda joint. The kind of place where you don’t want to let one rip mid-show because you will get side-eyed by a flautist or a lighting tech. The stage was close, the vibe casual but curious. Everyone was settling in for something… different.

First up was Tanya George, rolling out a one-woman symphony using vocal looping, keyboard wizardry, and more pedalboard magic than I’ve seen outside a guitar shop. Now, looping can sometimes feel like the same trick in a different hat—but Tanya brought something unique. Her voice cut through the space with clarity and confidence, and while the tech side didn’t grab me at first, I quickly found myself nodding along, engaged and impressed. She wasn’t just playing with sound—she was sculpting it. A strong opener.

Then, in what felt like a blink, Charli Meath took the stage. Or rather, the air above it. This was next-level bendy business. Think Cirque du Soleil but stripped back, raw, and all muscle. Five minutes of defying gravity, contorting mid-air like a human ribbon, and the crowd was hooked. She didn’t overstay her welcome—it was short, sharp, and left everyone wanting more. The kind of act that makes you realise you’ve been holding your breath the whole time.

And then: the main event. Andrea Krakovská.
Or as I now refer to her: AK Superstar.

From the first note, you knew this wasn’t going to be your average gig. This was a full-body experience—one that walloped your ears, rattled your bones, and maybe even stirred your soul a little.

Andrea commands the stage like she was born on it. She doesn’t just perform—she owns every inch of the floor, air, and soundwaves around her. And she’s backed by a powerhouse crew of musicians who aren’t just playing—they’re possessed by the music.

Let’s talk about Renee on drums. I’ve got a soft spot for a killer drummer, and Renee absolutely punished that kit—with purpose, power, and precision. It was like being hit in the chest with perfect rhythm. Metronome city, population: Renee.

Emma on guitar? Ridiculously smooth. The kind of playing that makes you go, “Yeah, I’m not worthy.” She played with such finesse and command that at one point I was pretty sure I slid off my chair. Could’ve been the intermission joint. Could’ve been her string work. Either way, I was floored.

And then there’s Scott on bass, weaving in and around the groove like it owed him money. Fat, clean tones that hugged the room. Seriously, the mix at this show was next-level. Everything sat where it should. You could hear every note, every kick, every little fill. Whoever was behind that desk deserves a medal and a fresh slab.

But let’s circle back to Andrea.

Shredding? Check. Vocals? Check. Aerial stunt work WHILE playing a guitar solo? Checkmate.
There she was, suspended upside down, spinning like a rock ‘n’ roll cyclone, absolutely nailing her solo. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d call bullshit. But there she was—flawless, fierce, and flying.

And just when you think it can’t get any wilder, the band launches into a metal mashup that includes Iron Maiden, and the room erupts. The energy hit eleven. There was a beat of silence after the final chord, and in the heat of the moment I found myself yelling:
“That was fkn sick!”
Because it bloody well was.

No gimmicks. No fluff. Just a whole lot of talent, spectacle, and a band so tight they could stop time if they wanted.

If you ever get the chance to see Andrea Krakovská and her crew live, do not hesitate. Whether you’re a music nerd, a theatre fan, or just someone who likes seeing humans do unbelievable things with their bodies and instruments, this show delivers. It’s raw. It’s wild. It’s unforgettable.