Review: Fave Aussie band The Whitlams had punters out of their chairs at The J reports YELO music editor Penny Brand.

It’s a bit hard to get excited about a rock band when you’re seated at The J but The Whitlams proved anything was possible in Noosa on Saturday night.

Filled with his usual entertaining (and often political) quips, legendary frontman Tim Freedman was in great spirits, encouraging his audience to get more drinks and ditch their chairs for some dancing in the aisles.

Fittingly, on the night of “The Voice” referendum, The Whitlams kicked off their set with “Gough”, an ode to their band’s namesake, former Australian Labor prime minister Gough Whitlam.

While Freedman has been open about his position as a staunch “Yes” campaigner on social media, he decided to keep the show non-political from then on, proving he’s the ultimate entertainer, steering a conflicted crowd into a frenzy of woo-ing and dancing instead (see video at bottom of story).

Freedman turned on the charm for some front row and very vocal female fans referring to them throughout the show as “mum’s tennis club”, and stirring them to a point where one wanted to get on the stage.

Apparently there was a bid among these gaggle of geese, and someone was to get $100 to jump on stage, but he quickly cooled her jets saying she’d have to pay him $100 to do that.

Picture: This is 42. Tired eyes from “partying” too hard over The Whitlams at a seated event filled with greying Noosa folk. For some reason I had Freedman’s song about a “five foot one, red-faced girl bouncing up and down” ringing in my ears the entire sleepless night. Perhaps only Freud will truly know why…

I think it’s around here that I aptly remember Freedman putting his hands in his face while I was purchasing his T-shirt, saying he hoped he didn’t say anything he would regret, after realising I was here to write a YELO review.

For someone who already digs deep lyrically in his music and is one of the greatest storytellers I’ve come across, sharing heart-ripping stories of his band’s past traumas and broken love affairs, I’ll let Freedman have his dignity where he wants it. What is said on tour stays on tour (wink, wink).

I can relate to Freedman – who has sung prolifically about the tragedies that have plagued him in the past, such as suicide (having lost two original band members) and addiction, in that I too have been unabashedly open about my own life’s adversities.

Last week I shared how my life had intertwined with Freedman’s, navigating alcoholism and heartache, and what often felt like a series of copy-cat, “Single White Female” moments as our lives made curious parallel twists and turns.

While Freedman’s highly-charged songs such as “Buy Now, Pay Later (Charlie No. 2)” and “No Aphrodisiac”, with their haunting lyrics and gentle piano, always have a pin-drop effect on his audiences, The Bard has a knack of pulling fervent fans back out of the emotionally-sodden trenches.

And our Sunshine Coast congregation was no different, moving from the sonic sorrows of despair into a burst of jitterbug and shrieks, relieving us with uptempo hits such as “You Sound Like Louis Burdett”, “Thank You”, and dare I mention it that “Hamburgers” song, which shot The Whitlams to a household name, but understandably one that Freedman is also tired of singing.

Who could blame him with 30 years of recording music, and several hundred shows performed since 1993. They never stop!

While Freedman has produced some solo enterprises and enjoyed collaborative efforts such as his Black Stump Band in more recent years, this show was about embracing all that is classic Whitlams, revisiting music from their first three albums.

Jak Housden, who joined the band in 2001 with drummer Terepai Richmond, was tailor-made for the job as lead guitarist and vocalist, and my accompanying guest agreed commenting “how terrific” he was.

Housden is a natural entertainer, making love to every note he performs and somehow able tell a story in movement alone.

While Freedman wore a white turtle neck and denim jacket (can’t knock that 90s out of him), the rest of the group, including Housden, were uber stylish, flanked in a 70s-inspired modern wardrobe, with some velvet additions and flares rolled out for the occasion.

Richmond was also a custom-make for the group: a nice-looking stick percussionist, who always plays coolly in the background in his familiar newsboy cap.

And Ian Peres, from famed hard-rock Australian band Wolfmother, completes the latest Whitlams outfit as bassist and keyboardist, bringing a fresh take to the group with his youthful swagger and stand-out, long curly locks.

Picture: Playing the role perfectly of a true die-hard (and totally cringe but owning it) fan I purchased a Whitlams T-shirt in a bid to get a signature signing, which I exchanged for a quick chat and photo with Tim Freedman. My best friend says I look “gaga happy” and I would say she’s right.

While I sat there lapping up the epic-ness of their earlier catalogue of work, I couldn’t help but wonder why The Whitlams hadn’t released more music in the same vein.

Their 2022 album, Sancho, was wonderful and almost on par with the band’s earlier musical excellence, but it didn’t quite live up to their gritty bluesy-rock edge, upgrading in recent years to something a little less angsty, with the additions of some violins housed in something a bit more old-fashioned.

Perhaps when you have something so perfect it’s best left there, untouched?

Secured in the vault of our precious memories, and rolled out once in a while to allay turbulent times with sweet nostalgia of days gone by.

Or maybe some loves just take a lifetime to build on, and I’ll be back for another show in 10 years reliving the Sancho years and beyond.

Finally, to round out the night our piano man chose the band’s early adaptation of Bob Dylan’s “Tangled Up in Blue”, where Dylan famously laments about life’s beautiful, yet crippling harsh reality.

It was a fitting tribute to original bandmates Stevie Plunder and Andy Lewis, who both died by suicide, leaving Freedman to either sink into the pits of hell or put the band back together.

And the song makes for the perfect metaphor for both The Whitlams and life itself.

A patchwork of old and new. And an embrace of all that lies ahead.

Video: Freedman, sipping plenty of his usual French champagne, and his band The Whitlams whip Noosa music lovers into a sea of hysteria which had the usually seated audience dancing in the aisles.