Last week David Campbell took me back to my childhood when his Let’s Go tour touched down in Newcastle. I expected big things from the show. I knew I’d be treated to songs from my favourite decade of music, and I’ve never left a DC show without a big smile on my face. Predictably he didn’t let me down.
As the lights came up we were instantly transported back to the 80s. The band wore more neon than I’ve seen for years, and the lights were straight out of the period. It was perfect. He opened with the title track, “Let’s Go” and barely took his foot from the throttle as he treated us to songs from the album and other 80s favourites. As a child of the 80s those unexpected gems were some of the night’s highlights for me. His stripped back version of “Every Time You Go Away,” beginning with an a capella section, was breathtaking. His take on “Knew You Were Waiting,” with back-up singer Josie Lane stepping into Aretha Franklin’s shoes was so much fun. And his version of “Power of Love” was even more awesome after hearing his story of performing it as a teen beginning his journey as a musician. Those tales really made the night for me, the reminiscing about buying Smash Hits magazine and recording songs from the radio using the old two-fingered method. They were probably lost on certain sections of the audience, but as a 30-something I was right there with him.
I’ve always loved seeing shows at Newcastle’s Civic Theatre. It’s such a beautiful venue, so intimate and so well appointed. But it may not have been the best place to see David Campbell. I spent so much of the night dancing in my chair, dying to do more. As he started “Goody Two Shoes” it all got too much and Mum and I jumped out and found a quiet corner to dance. The theatre’s not really the place to do that, but who can sit down with that sort of music?
The show was brilliant but it probably wasn’t the right venue. Thankfully David’s announced some more dates later this year. I think I might have to go back for a second helping!
Image source: Stephen Katulka
Sydney singer-songwriter 
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I fell in love at first note with Patrick James, a sweet young acoustic guitar-playing troubadour from Port Macquarie. He was a cutie, but his modest personality and superb lyrics really won me. Despite being a support act the crowd around me was so respectful that I could really take in the words he sang. Just when I thought his set couldn’t get any better he was joined by his banjo-playing pal. Together they created the perfect indie folk tunes to set the stage for the evening ahead.
I must admit, I was flagging after Patrick. Pub gigs always get so late for this middle-aged music lover! I whispered to my husband that I wished there wasn’t another support act; I wanted to hear Howie and head on home! But there was Brendan Maclean, a magnificent musician who turned my fatigue around. He made a big impression with his colourful jacket and Dwayne Wayne style sunglasses, but as his first impassioned piano driven song unfolded it was clear this guy wasn’t just about looks. His set flew by with quirky originals and cover versions of songs by Leonard Cohen and Lady Gaga. You’re not going to find that combination very often folks! Whether on piano or his beloved ukulele Murphy Brown, Brendan wowed me.
And then there was Howie Day. He’s still largely unknown in this country but I’ve been following his career for the past decade. In fact, my husband and I realised as we sat waiting for him to appear that we’d seen him first eight years ago in New York City. It was the first show we ever saw together, something I was thrilled to tell the man himself once his set wrapped up. But before I reverted to teenage fangirl it was time to soak up his brilliance. His set drew from his three albums and the brand new EP Ceasefire, something that pleased a long-time fan like me greatly. The simplicity of his lone acoustic guitar and plaintive vocals was matched perfectly by his tech wizardry. What that man does with looped recordings blows my mind each time I witness it. It’s such a neat trick that he uses like a pro, making the right songs feel bigger and more lush. However in the more intimate tunes like “She Says” and “No Longer What You Require” he does away with the trickery and lets his guitar and voice speak for themselves. It’s just magic.
Brisbane based blues act 
Sydney blues-rock act The Gypsy Bangles are back with their brand new EP Peace, Love, Rock ‘n Roll.
And it was that something that took me to Sydney’s Allphones Arena on Wednesday night to witness Roger Waters performing the piece in the flesh, so to speak. As I looked at the T-shirts of the faithful fans gathered outside the venue I realised nine years has passed since I last caught his act. However the years have not wearied him.
I’m not someone who typically sees those big spectacle shows. Give me a few guys with guitars and I’m a happy woman. But this production blew my mind. I expected a lot. Pink Floyd set the standard for this kind of thing all those years ago. But I wasn’t prepared for exactly how thrilling this show was. It was a visual feast, with exploding airplanes, flying pigs, oversized puppets, pyrotechnics, and of course, that wall. The projections beamed onto those bricks were like nothing I’ve ever seen.
While the production was slick, it wasn’t all about the gloss. Roger Waters clearly still believes in this piece, and he performed it with everything he had. He inhabited his Pink role, only breaking the fourth wall now and again to remind us how grateful he was for our attendance and love. His voice is still superb, and his band matched him. Replicating David Gilmour’s guitar solo in “Comfortably Numb” is a feat, but the appointed guitarist came close. Seeing present day Roger accompanying his 1980-self on “Mother” was breathtaking. I also loved seeing those personal favourites like “One Of My Turns” and “Nobody Home,” the tracks I’d never hear at an ordinary Pink Floyd or Roger Waters show. Closing the show with “Waltzing Matilda” once those bricks had toppled might have been corny, but it was still a lot of fun.
The show was the perfect marriage of music and theatre. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s early days yet, but it just may prove to be the concert of the year.
Image source: Stephen Katulka
It’s amazing that way that a band can get under your skin without you really noticing. I thought Icehouse would be good to see, but I didn’t expect to be swept away by them. But after just a few bars of “We Can Get Together,” I pumping my fists and singing along in full voice. The band started strong and didn’t take their foot off the gas pedal. The years have not wearied them, but the addition of young singer-songwriter Michael Paynter has given them a youthful injection. Hearing him take the bulk of the vocals on “Man of Colours” was one of the set’s real highlights. I also loved the souped up version of “Miss Divine,” one of those childhood favourites I’d all but forgotten. We were given a little early Oates when John stepped out to play along with “Electric Blue,” the song he cowrote all those years ago. And no Aussie could be unmoved in a crowd singing along to “Great Southern Land.”
After such a great set from Icehouse I was pumped up for an incredible show. However quickly I became deflated. Hall and Oates were performing “Maneater” and I should have been swept away, but it wasn’t. The sound was a mess. Where was that crisp audio Icehouse enjoyed? When you’ve got eight musicians up on stage this needs to be spot on, or else it becomes jumbled. So many squeaking microphones is unforgivable at a concert of this calibre. The sound seemed to distract the band a bit; for the first few songs I noticed Daryl Hall gesturing to turn this up or this down. Things settled somewhat, but the music never sounded as good as it did for the support.