Written by Asirah Abdul Kadir
In the lead up to the show, caught between the crossroads of anxiety and excitement, fans began pouring questions and concerns over The 1975 Australia’s Facebook group. While most of them were just desperate attempts at securing last-minute tickets for a friend or themselves, others began speculating what the show on the 10th would entail – would they play Wintering? Menswear, perhaps? Who’s going to be the infamous Robbers kiss? Will Matty be consuming raw meat (again)?
Those questions would be left unanswered except one: Do you think they’ll bring the house to Australia? Word on the forum was that they wouldn’t – damn, the rental crisis got the boys too. That set the tone for our expectations, that we wouldn’t be getting the same theatrical and scandalous show as we’ve anticipated from their North American and UK leg of the tour. At least, not to that prodigious scale.
Nonetheless, I can assure you Healy’s humorous interactions with the crowd, his eyebrow raising confessions, and over-the-top drunk acting would not be lost at the Adelaide show – house or no house. In fact, I thought he loved us a lot (or maybe this is just my delusions talking). He was full of joie de vivre, full of energy, and that was reflected in the exuberance of the crowd.
As the arena lights came to a dim and eager hushes filled the crowd, the screens projected live footage of the band in what seemed to be their dressing room. Almost Truman Show-adjacent, we followed them as they navigated their way through the backstage – Healy fist pumping to Sandstorm and practicing his pronunciation of ‘Adelaide’. Before long, they had emerged onto the stage and the crowd broke into a hysterical roar. I was hysterical no less.
Backed only by the strum of his guitar, Healy’s solo performance of Be My Mistake was the first song. It was an unusual choice for an opening but a good way to calm the crowd down. Or perhaps it was the perfect choice to assert early on his ability to not only write such masterful songs, but to convey those emotions live as well.
What happened after that was a whirlwind of emotions and energy. We were taken from one era to the next as they smashed out hit after hit from their decade-long discography. At one point I was thrown into the year 2014 – freshly 13, brace-faced, bubbling with teenage angst – and I was screaming to Robbers at the top of my lungs. We were fed so well with unexpected performances of Medicine, Fallingforyou, Ugh! and If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know). See, I told you he loved us. That’s why we got the goods!
Healy’s vocals throughout the show were highbrow amazing, but that was expected of the 34-year-old frontman. What was not expected though was this sudden change in attitude. From the moment he stepped onto the stage, it seems as though his alter ego, which many have referred to as Truman Black, had begun to dissipate from the show and that was confirmed with a profession that he was himself tonight. No bit, no gags, just himself. While that might be disappointing to those who were looking forward to witnessing this audacious character in action, I thought it was refreshing to see him without the smoke and mirrors.
The fun continued with Healy complementing a fan’s emo haircut, and then shaming the crowd for heckling him to do a shoey. At one point, we broke into a cover of Backstreet Boys’ I Want It That Way. The band’s delivery of Love It If We Made It was insane as always – I’m still nursing my throat from screaming that one with the crowd. Yet through it all, I was making silent prayers for one specific song, and right at the end, they were answered as the brash sounds of the guitar marked the opening of what I would consider an era-defining song: Sex.
Albeit a tamer show, the band stayed true to their word: They really were at their very best.
Not a single beat missed from the drums or bass or the guitar or sax, not a single note blundered. Not a single song met with a flat crowd, nor a single set of feet stopped shuffling. After that night in Port Road, I can attest that they weren’t being pretentious or overly ambitious for claiming to be – quoting Healy – “the sexiest fucking band in the world”.
On Dit 