Review: Bryget Chrisfield. Photos: Jason Rosewarne.
“We’re Private Function and we’re breaking up,” is how this evening’s support band introduce themselves, and it’s true! On Christmas Day 2025, the chaotic Melbourne band announced their split via social media: an image of a Christmas present with an invitation to swipe and see the gift inside, which was a lump of coal with a pom-pom bow on it, captioned “we broke up lol”. How on-brand is that?
The band opens with an unreleased new song called Music Sucks Fuck You. Around song three, lead singer Chris Penney is in the crowd getting a shoulder ride. Tasty licks, a lot of instrument swapping and songs that sometimes only go for a coupla seconds (see: FUCK and SHIT), this heckers, anti-PC, six-headed noise machine is the perfect choice of opener for Sweden’s loose AF Viagra Boys.
To close, Private Function perform Midnight Oil’s King Of The Mountain for the first time ever as a tribute to drummer Rob Hirst, who sadly passed away earlier today.
Blinding strobes illuminate Viagra Boys’ arrival on stage as they saunter on, lapping up our cheers and applause. “Okay. Alright.” Man Made Of Meat is off and running, and the GA section pogos in unison, chanting the chorus and punching the air to the beat: “I am a man that’s made of meat/ And you’re on the internet looking at feet…”
Shirtless and showing off his heavily tattooed dad bod from the get-go, frontman Sebastian Murphy jokes, “I’ve been working hard. I did seven push-ups right before this show. And I switched to alcoholic water.” He’s one charismatic character and completes his look with speed dealer sunnies, the blue reflected variety.
Murphy later claims, “I have been chosen by Jesus Christ himself to come here and spread the gospel.”
We hear barking on stage and eagerly anticipate Uno II, a song Murphy wrote from his Italian greyhound’s perspective, following a year spent going back and forth from the vet with dental issues. “I found a crouton underneath the futon/ Mama said I couldn’t eat it ’cause all my teeth are gone” – definitely a contender for most fun singalong ever! Oskar Carls’ magical flute riff further elevates this standout number, and the Down Under shout-out (“Or maybe he’s Australian…”) is much appreciated by us locals.
In Waterboy, during which Henrik “Benke” Höckert’s bassline slices through the sonic sludge, Murphy rotates his hand as if inspecting his manicure: “Spend all day at the nail salon…”
After reminding us we’re living in a “hellscape”, Murphy enthuses, “It’s a wonderful thing to see so many punk rock losers in one spot!” Great segue, man! Punk Rock Loser is up next.
All band members leave the stage mid-show, filing back one by one for Pyramid Of Health. Ain’t No Thief starts off like The Prodigy and Viagra Boys also bring Devo to mind, sonically, in a live setting. Danceable, funky punk with some unhinged sax and bongos thrown in for good measure – it’s a full-blown dance party up in here!
Lots of actual lighters are held aloft throughout Medicine For Horses, which is sung sweetly and just about as close to a ballad as Viagra Boys get.
Flute, sax, guitar – Carls is indispensable. During the rambunctious Sports, he randomly smokes a dart on stage.
Swirling moshpits, a punch-on in the crowd, crowdsurfing (keyboardist Elias Jungqvist even gets involved) – it’s all par for the course at a Viagra Boys gig.
They close with Worms – “a song about dying,” Murphy explains. The band stops playing to allow the crowd to screech one final line, unaccompanied: “The same worms that eat me will some day eat you, too.”
As Viagra Boys bow and prepare to leave the stage, the dulcet strains of Up Where We Belong (from the 1982 film An Officer And A Gentleman) ring out over the venue’s soundsystem. Everyone should experience Viagra Boys live at least once in their lifetime.
