Live Review: Sunnyboys, The Celibate Rifles

It's staggering to think that this second career phase of Sunnyboys' classic line-up has survived now for longer than their initial tenure together, without even having released any new music to hang their hat on. But judging by the huge crowd that's gathered tonight in the ornate surroundings of The Tivoli, the love and support for them that's flowed like a river since their first fledgling reunion foray back in 2012 is showing no sign of abating, so strong is their timeless catalogue of Aussie rock.

Sydney punks The Celibate Rifles also came through the ranks in the late '70s but unlike tonight's headliners never went away, and tonight they offer a consummate performance of scuzzy, distinctly Australian rock'n'roll. Lead guitarist Kent Steedman is in fine form from the get-go as they belt out tunes like Killing Time and Netherworld, his thick lines snaking around the solid emissions of his long-term rhythm guitar counterpoint Dave Morris in perfect simpatico. Frontman Damien Lovelock is in strong voice as they pump through driving rockers like G's Gone and Johnny, the singer happily spinning anecdotes between songs, while drummer Paul Larsen is set up on the floor in front of the headliner's riser and pummels with perfect precision. As the set progresses, Steedman is happy to play the clown and often pulls ridiculous rock shapes to bring some levity to proceedings (fortunately he has more than ample chops to back it up), Lovelock gets his dance on for a ferocious cover of The Stooges' 1969 (which he claims the Rifles and Sunnyboys wrote together back in the day in a cheeky display of fake news), before they finish with the Radio Birdman-esque I Shoulda and a rollicking rendition of Electravision Mantra to bring a fine set home.

Soon enough the now-familiar visages of the Sunnyboys members appear in silhouette against the darkened backdrop and the crowd goes crazy for the first of many times, the set starting relatively sedately with What You Need and Love To Rule before the driving fury of Tunnel Of Love sets the cat amongst the pigeons and elicits both singing and dancing within the crowd in equal measure. Imposing frontman Jeremy Oxley shows off his indelible guitar skills as he unleashes a fierce salvo of licks - both his fingers and his voice have returned to prime form - and the rest of the band, augmented by a touring keyboardist, are in equally fine fettle. Early B-side Tomorrow Will Be Fine shows off just how much depth exists in the Sunnyboys' relatively small catalogue, followed by the title track to their 1982 second album Individuals and a concerted run-through of My Only Friend that finds the rhythm section of Peter Oxley (bass) and Bil Bilson (drums) locking in wonderfully. Jeremy drops his axe for Gone, which gives rhythm guitarist Richard Burgman a chance to shine, the crowd singing along en masse to the Doors-y refrain before smash hit single Happy Man nearly lifts the lid off the venue such is the excitement it ushers. Show Me Some Discipline rumbles through in its ragged glory, rolling keys add massive heft to Trouble In My Brain and Peter takes vocal reins for the mid-pace You Don't Need Me (a recent addition to the live sets) before things revert back to normal for the ever-vital It's Not Me. It just feels like an endless cavalcade of classic hits as they pull the explosive Let You Go from their kitbag, effortlessly get the crowd involved in the harmony chants of You Need A Friend and then finish the main set with the incendiary I'm Shakin', the perfect finale to this energetic performance.

Although of course there's more to come, the crowd playing along by chanting louder and louder as if anything will derail the inevitable encore. The band looked ecstatic at the love flowing in their direction as they return to the fray and belt out No Love Around, Guts Of Iron and the untouchable Alone With You as if the years have literally stripped away and they're young 20-somethings once more, taking on the world with their rock'n'roll and camaraderie. This time the crowd's baying for more has a bit more edge, no one sure if another return is perfunctory or needs to be earned, but the band are soon coaxed out for one more barrage, an again guitar-less Jeremy now touting sunglasses and tearing through The Seeker as things get meta and his wife Mary comes out in a nurse's uniform and drapes a king's robe over his huge frame (check out Kaye Harrison's 2013 documentary The Sunnyboy for context and added pathos). What was meant as a one-off return six years ago continues as an unstoppable juggernaut: long may Jeremy and his regal cohorts reign.