Australian rock icons The Living End, supported by rising Brisbane band SPEIRA, opened their regional tour with a sold out show at Venue 114 in Bokarina, proving that after three decades, they remain absurdly fit.

They were also, less surprisingly, very good.

See Dameeka Middleton’s full photo gallery from the sold out show.

Under an almost full moon, Friday night delivered pristine rock’n’roll, a strangely familiar crowd and a few territorial disputes.

SPEIRA make an assured first impression

There was nothing tentative about newcomers SPEIRA, who opened the night with force, chemistry and confidence, using the whole room rather than politely waiting for the headliners.

Frontwoman Coco commanded the crowd with a mix of swagger, provocation and total assurance, recalling the fearless stage presence of Amyl and the Sniffers’ Amy Taylor.

Very punk.

Later, I found myself standing beside the man I had decided was Coco’s dad, then remembered my own dad saying he knew him from the dog park.

Very Sunshine Coast.

This felt like useful information for nobody, but somehow important in the moment.

The band have already recorded at Yama Nui Studios and appeared at BIGSOUND, and they clearly have a following.

I had barely arrived when I found myself in the merch queue beside a SPEIRA fan trying on one of the band’s shirts with the concentration usually reserved for a major financial decision.

At the time I thought, “Oh come on mate, surely you can guess your size.” Later, after realising I probably should have sized up myself, I gave him a silent salute.

The Living End remain a formidable live force

The Living End, Venue 114. Photos: Dameeka Middleton.

Chris Cheney, Scott Owen and Andy Strachan arrived on stage and reminded everyone why The Living End remain one of Australia’s great live rock bands. They play with a passion, intensity and conviction that can only come from three decades of knowing exactly what their bandmates will do next.

The Living End frontman Chris Cheney. Photo: Dameeka Middleton.

Their catalogue is enormous, and they had no issues tearing through ever single one like it was 1998. “Second Solution”, “All Torn Down”, “Roll On”, “White Noise” and “Prisoner of Society” are embedded in Australian domestic life, whether people like it or not. They turn up at mates’ barbecues, on long car drives and late-night country pub singalongs.

Cheney is a ridiculous guitarist, moving between punk attack, rockabilly precision and enormous solos. Strachan can still drive an entire set with frightening control. And Owen slapped, dragged and climbed over his shiny black-and-white chequered double bass in flashes of physical theatre that have long been part of the band’s live show.

After decades of playing together, every stop, change and accent landed exactly where it should. The performance was immaculate without becoming sterile.

Most notably, all three remain remarkably lean and fit. I suppose this level of greatness demands it.

Familiar faces, real and imagined

The crowd at The Living End, Venue 114. Photos: Dameeka Middleton.

I also became fairly certain I had spotted my mum’s surgeon, although he appeared to be disguised in a beanie and a hoop earring high on one ear. It may not have been him, but the absurdity was not lost on me and made for a great conversation with Mum after the show.

“Mum, do you think your shoulder surgeon has a top earring and moonlights at Living End gigs?”

Either my mum’s surgeon has a secret rock’n’roll identity and a great disguise, or I spent part of the evening staring at an entirely innocent man. I spent half the set spotting people I was sure I knew from somewhere without ever quite placing them. Eventually, I found one genuinely familiar face.

Just as I was preparing to make an early exit and beat the crowd, I ran into ABC Sunshine Coast broadcaster Sarah Howells, who I join each week to talk about local music. Our conversation carried us through to the final song, “Prisoner of Society”, and I was glad we stayed to the end together, like true loyal gig goblins.

Punk rock, but mind my spot

The crowd at The Living End, Venue 114. Photos: Dameeka Middleton.

The crowd was a stark contrast to Rotten Fest, where real punk hair ruled, the floor was extra sticky, and the bathroom was a right mess. At Venue 114, it was “safe cool” mums in the squeaky clean Converse, and dads getting angry about their place in the crowd.

As gig goblins snaked through the crowd, one man announced, “I’ve been waiting here for hours,” apparently transforming that section of the floor into privately held land. Anyone attempting to move around the room was treated with suspicion, even though people at concerts occasionally need to pee and return to their friends.

Nearby, an eager lady bouncing around said, “What is up with the people in the front row? They all just stand there!” She had a real point.

Especially in an older crowd, you don’t wanna mess with people’s monopoly on the floor. Some of the most devoted fans seemed more interested in guarding their carefully secured patch of floor than moving to the band they had waited so long to see.

There was also a lot of booze in the room, which appeared to make every minor inconvenience feel extremely serious. It may have contributed to the snippets of mild mob behaviour, but the role of alcohol in live music is a whole other conversation.

This was punk rock with Australian royalty and a higher ticket price. But whatever confusing energy was moving through the audience under the almost full moon, it never reached the stage. The Living End were simply flawless.

More than a nostalgia act

The Living End at Venue 114. Photos: Dameeka Middleton. [View the full gallery.]

I was not expecting to come home with a $50 Living End T-shirt, but the merch offering was simply too cute to refuse. Financially irresponsible, but spiritually correct.

The merch table does, however, need to bring back the pink “I Only Trust Rock’n’Roll” tees immediately. Consider this an editorial demand.

By the end of the night, nostalgia felt beside the point. The Living End had filled a regional venue and played song after song that most of the room already knew, while even the support band had fans trying on merch before the show. That is a rare level of cultural reach.

Three decades in, The Living End remain top-tier Australian rock royalty. But I think we already knew that.