The Astor Theatre isn’t just one of the best-sounding rooms in Australia — it might be the best venue in the country, full stop, according to Steve Kilbey. And last night The Church proved why it fits them like a glove. This was a two-set deep-dive into their history, mythology, and continued drive, presented with the wry humour and well-honed swagger only Steve Kilbey can conjure.
Set One opened with “Columbus,” drifting out with that familiar glacial grace, before the band leaned into the elegant twitch of “Electric Lash.” “Tear It All Away” followed, warmly received by a crowd already in Churchland, and then Kilbey unleashed the infamous story: supporting the apocryphal Zarzov Brothers who had just released their immortal album Bum Sweat. According to him, only after that bizarre experience did he pray to the dark lord and offer up his soul for just one hit single. The delivery was hilarious — the kind of self-mythologising only Kilbey can do.
With everyone laughing, he snapped the room back to the present with “The Hypnogogue,” which slotted perfectly into the set’s early momentum. Then came what he called “the first biggie of the night”: “The Unguarded Moment.” Heavier, darker, more muscular than its 1981 incarnation — a song reborn through decades of hindsight and the weight of years.
The brooding continued with “Block,” before Kilbey noted their “last actual hit” was 35 years ago and wished aloud for screaming girls… cue the shimmering lift of “Metropolis.” Plenty of screams, and a huge sing-along greeted it. “It’s No Reason” kept the mood expansive, though Kilbey recalled a critic labelling it “Puff the Magic Dragon on bad acid” and suggested it might be time to go for a piss! It was a wonderful night of contrast though – next up Kilbey warned, “We’ve got a mandolin and we’re gonna use it,” leading into a lilting “Realm of Minor Angels” with Haug’s mandolin shining through the clouds of expectation.
He encouraged the crowd to go buy merch “and make us rich beyond our wildest dreams,” dropped a messy joke about a snake and a poet, and then closed the set with a soaring “Reptile,” which still bites as hard as ever and almost forgave the preceding pun.
After a 15-minute break, Set Two kicked in dirtier and gothier with “Almost With You,” the perfect re-entry point. “When You Were Mine” and “Ripple” added shimmer and momentum, then “Destination” sent the room drifting into deeper, darker, rockier waters. The Church’s three-guitar artillery really showed its strength during “Constant in Opal,” while “Another Century” (my highlight from ‘Man Woman Life Death Infinity’) proved the newer material stands proudly beside the classics.
The nostalgia hit sweetly with “Already Yesterday,” then “Numbers” turned the dial and remodulated the crowd. Of course, “Under the Milky Way” brought one of the night’s loudest reactions — a song that belongs to the world now, not just the band. They closed the second set with a raucous, wild “Tantalized,” complete with the manic drive Kilbey had promised.
It was a night worthy of extended band intros: Powderfinger’s Ian Haug, 13 years deep now; Kelso’s 82-kilo (or maybe 81 kilo – it was uncertain) right-hand man; Rockwiz musical director Ashley Naylor; the sadly absent Jeff Cain; Cameron McKenzie on the third guitar; drummer Nicholas Meredith from Camperdown; and Timothy Powles — 33 years of percussion mastery, from Ryde who was welcomed with a snatch of The Beatles “Ticket to Ride.” Delivered with warmth, sarcasm, and pride — very Church, very Kilbey.
The encore brought the atmospheric pulse of “Sacred Echoes (Part Two)” before launching into the night’s final blast with “Space Saviour.” A perfect end: loud, triumphant, utterly their own.
Tonight, The Church did what only The Church can do — be mystical, maddening, majestic, gothic, grungy and completely unforgettable. A masterclass from a band still moving forward while carrying an entire mythology on their backs. It’s a long way from opening for those wonderful Zarzov Brothers…
PHOTO GALLERY FROM THE ASTOR
