The Living End Rock The Lansdowne For A Good Time, But Not A Long Time

Such is the way we’ve been conditioned to react to show announcements, our standing falls on one of three categories: Going, Interested or Not Going.

These days, when the Living End announce a tour, it’s generally an Interested that will perhaps drop off to Not Going a little closer to the date. They’re a band we’ve come to take for granted as they’ve been mainstays of the touring and festival circuit for two decades straight — even people that aren’t particularly fond of them have more than likely seen them a half-dozen times at this point.

The Living End at the Lansdowne, however? Going. Going, Going, Going, Going, Going. The Melbourne-born trio haven’t played a room that small in years — the closest they’ve come is the Metro, which is still around three times bigger than the City Road pub.

It’s with this that a mix of devotees and curious onlookers make their way up to the bandroom for the decidedly un-rock-and-roll start time of 7:30pm. The band have been at work on their eighth studio album, and tonight primarily serves as a chance to hear new material showcased for the first time.

Before we get to that, however, there’s a quick nod to the band’s past with a one-two punch of ‘What’s On Your Radio?’ and ‘Roll On’. Each sounds as biting and vital as they did upon their release, which is more than one can say about a lot of Australian rock singles from the early-to-mid 2000s.

It serves almost as a trust exercise — as if to say to the sold-out crowd that it’s not their first rodeo, and to give these new songs a chance. Credit where credit’s due, there’s fun to be had with the three new songs Chris Cheney and co offer up from their as-yet-untitled new record.

One in particular explores relatively new territory for the band, taking in quick tempo shifts and dissonant jazz-chord tension. It’s centred around a mantra that perhaps best sums up the Living End’s attitude in 2018: “I don’t wanna be there/I just wanna be here/I don’t wanna do that/I just wanna do this.”

Lest we forget this is the band who made not being told what to do cool back in 1997.

We’re given at least one song off each major release from the band in their set, ranging from their rousing debut single ‘From Here On In’ to the rousing punk number ‘What Would You Do?’ from 2003’s Modern ARTillery. Ahead of Cheney’s appearance on The White Album tribute show, we’re also given a surprise Beatles cover in ‘Help!,’ which has a bit of rough-around-the-edges charm.

It’s generally been a polite reaction from the audience across the performance — head nodding, foot tapping, a couple of raised index fingers for the old songs. When Cheney launches into ‘Second Solution’ without any warning, however, the floodgates open. The crowd surges forward, the sing-along is deafening and it truly feels like a rowdy pub throwback rather than a showcase of sorts.

So, what do The Living End do with this momentum? They play one more song and leave. That’s it. Yep, no ‘Prisoner of Society,’ no ‘All Torn Down’, no ‘Save the Day,’ not even a ‘White Noise.’ It’s ‘Monkey,’ from their 2016 album Shift, and an exit stage right.

“Fucking weak,” a punter spits. They’ve every right to feel shortchanged – at $60 a pop, The Living End have barely given the audience a dollar per minute.

We’re all under the impression it’s a tease. No-one moves. “One more song” chants fill the air. A bemused roadie walks out and shakes his head at us. Again, it’s got to be a tease. There’s no way that’s it. It’s not until the crew literally start removing Andy Strachan’s cymbals that we all come to the shocking realisation that’s all she wrote.

“Fucking weak,” a punter spits. They’ve every right to feel shortchanged — at $60 a pop, The Living End have barely given the audience a dollar per minute. To not even give the crowd the classic “one more song” takes the wind out of the room. The magic is gone.

Trudging to the bar in defeat, it’s hard to reconcile the highs of the performance with the lows of its abrupt finish. It takes awhile for the reality to sink in, but in retrospect the positives do outweigh the negatives.

It’s been a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see one of the country’s longest-serving pub-rock bands return to their roots for a spell. Would we have kept them in there for longer? Absolutely. But it’s still been one hell of a moment to be a part of.

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David James Young is a writer, podcaster and wearer of black nail polish because he saw Chris Cheney doing it back in the day and wanted to be cool like him. He tweets at @DJYwrites.

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Photo Credit: Billy Zammit