UK indie icons Kaiser Chiefs have returned to Australia, celebrating the 20th Anniversary of their seminal record, Employment, one of the best-selling UK debut albums of all time. It’s their first visit to these shores since 2012, when they packed out venues across the country. Tania Graham-Brown was at the Hordern Pavilion last night to capture the magic in words and pictures.
Kaiser Chiefs didn’t roll into Sydney to honour Employment, they tore it apart, rebuilt it onstage, and hurled it back with twice the voltage.
The Delta Riggs have a reputation as one of Australia’s finest live acts, with multiple sold out headline tours, so it’s no surprise they were chosen to warm up the Kaiser Chiefs’ crowd. They kicked the whole thing open like a saloon door in a bar fight, slick, swagger-heavy, disco rock filth. Their set throbbed with big chorus energy and that slightly unhinged confidence only a band who loves chaos can pull off. You could feel the floor wake up under people’s shoes. Heads nodded. Drinks sloshed. By the time they left, the room was warm and wired and ready to burn.
Then Kaiser Chiefs walked on and the temperature went up another ten degrees.
Ricky Wilson moved like someone plugged him directly into the venue’s mains. He wasn’t just a frontman, he was the catalyst, pacing, twisting, leaning so far into the crowd that half the front row essentially became backing vocals. And they were ready. This wasn’t a 19-year-old indie kid crowd. It was an older, wiser, mortgage-paying army of lifers, still loud, still reckless, still able to shout every lyric like their adult responsibilities were waiting outside in the carpark.
When “Everyday I Love You Less and Less” dropped, the singalong was so sharp it felt weaponised. “Modern Way” softened nothing, it just hit differently now, like revisiting an old scar and realising you wear it proudly. “I Predict a Riot” wasn’t just a moment, it was a rupture. If any song could make a responsibly employed indie generation lose their minds, it’s that one.
And “Ruby”? The band could’ve stopped playing entirely. Sydney would’ve carried it for them, no hesitation, no breath left in the lungs but still somehow more to give. My only complaint was that they should have finished with the energy of Ruby, rather than “The Angry Mob”.
And that was the feeling of the night – people still had more to give. It didn’t feel like it was over for the audience.
There’s power in a crowd that grew up with these songs and refused to put them down. No cool detachment. Just joy, loud, sweaty, communal joy. The energy of the room was another level.
This wasn’t a nostalgia lap, and it sure as hell wasn’t a polite victory tour. It was proof that some bands age like gasoline.
