Live Review: Robbie Williams, Sheppard, DJ Grand Master Baitz

On this humid, dust-whipped Thursday afternoon, 12,000 of us descend to Rochford Wines where even the famous rolling greens of Yarra Valley offer little respite from the heat. Sleepy farmhouses and cattle herds watch agog as stretch limousines, Hummers and coaches stream past them through miles of convoluted, narrow lanes to access the parking area in the wide paddock out back.

Resident DJ Grand Master Baitz welcomes the masses that are filing in with a good selection of danceable tracks before charismatic Brisbane sibling trio band Sheppard bounce on stage. Lead vocalist George Sheppard and his sisters Amy and Emma are pure high-octane pop bliss. Widely appealing to all ages with a solid setlist of catchy, joyous lyrics and killer hooks - particularly in their hits Geronimo, Coming Home and Let Me Down Easy - it's no wonder they are a popular support act for the likes of Justin Bieber and Meghan Trainor. Sheppard prove that their self-described "happy" music can be enormously good, clean fun.

Promptly at 7.45pm, we are called to be "upstanding for the national anthem of Robbie" before a recorded version of Land Of Hope And Glory plays with added hilarious Robbie-fied lyrics scrolling across the screen, such as: "Yes, he went to rehab/Drugs and drink took him low/But would still make Rudebox/And give rap a go... God bless our Robbie/He is so well hung!"

To the opening bars of The Heavy Entertainment Show and a cavalcade of female dancers clad in skimpy Lycra outfits and sequined boxing gloves, Robbie Williams emerges in the hooded boxer robe to roars of uncontained rapture. Crikey, if that's what rehab, a vegan diet, daily yoga and pilates can do for him, get us to the nearest health spa post haste! Boasting a tight black vest and satin kilt, he looks trimmer, younger and much more energetic than during some of his previous tours to our shores.

With demonic relish, he growls at the conclusion of Let Me Entertain You, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! My name is Robbie Williams, this is my band, this is my arse [lifts kilt up for a bum wiggle] and for the next two hours, you lot. Are. MINE!"

His ardent worshippers almost swoon. With trademark bravura showmanship, Williams belts out hits from his back catalogue, with only one track — the sublime, life-affirming Love My Life, a track he loves crooning to his kids — from his latest album included in the setlist. Has family life and two young children perhaps mellowed Williams in a way? Only by the merest dint. He asks if there are any "mummies and daddies out there" and shares a couple of stories about his two children. But, like most other anecdotes about his life, he portrays himself as the same unconventional, unapologetic Robbie - brash, expletive-laden and self-indulgent: the parent who teaches his son how to correctly use the 'F' word as an adjective. And yet, there are also wistful admissions of self-consciousness: "You know you are getting old when you watch porn and you think to yourself, 'That bed looks so comfortable!'"

In a tribute to his "god", George Michael, only Williams could get away with a joke that Michael unfortunately missed out on a memorable intimate encounter with him. His cover of Freedom, with female dancers strutting out in wide, sheer brimmed hats, is an admirable effort, but lacks the visceral thrust that made the original version - and singer - an instant icon.

"Have you been on the lady-petrol?" he kneels down and incorrigibly teases the predominantly female fans straining at the edge of the stage. He takes a risk in selecting a besotted female audience member to sit with him on a faux park bench on stage as he belts out Somethin' Stupid. Without Nicole Kidman or Kylie Minogue (for Kids) to duet with him, Williams' three back-up singers fill in with varying results. Some struggle to rise above the volume of the speakers and Williams' impressive eight-piece band.

Proving that family is his new priority, he even wheels out his father Peter Williams (alias Pete Conway) who sings Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline on a period-appropriate lounge-room sofa that harks back to the younger Williams' childhood days. "Sing it, Papa!" he says with an air of uncharacteristic respect. It is a touching moment, but there is no time for tears. She's The One, Feel, Rock DJ, Better Man - which we're told only topped the charts in Australia - and his familiar send-off Angels followed. Unlike his concerts in Europe and the UK where live pyrotechnics lit up the sky to the straining guitar riffs in the bridge, we have to settle for computer-generated effects on the screen instead, which leaves us sorely wanting. It's like cake without the icing, but this is just nitpicking. Williams' other signature cover of My Way ends the night, but he also gives us a truncated a cappella medley of his popular hits before walking backstage, leaving the audience to complete the last stanzas of She's The One and applauding ourselves as we leave.

This evening in the hands of Williams fulfilled the promise of "Heavy Entertainment" with much of the on stage spectacle well choreographed and slick. He is in fine form and if you've got a ticket to one of his remaining shows, you are definitely in for a memorable treat.