It’s a warm, Autumn night in Sydney, I walk past the old sandstone buildings of Sydney Uni, their history hanging in the air, on my way to the Manning Bar—where things feel a little less formal and a lot more alive as the crowd waits for Feeder to hit the stage.
There’s a steady buzz rippling through the crowd—part anticipation, part nostalgia—as fans clutch pints, trade stories, and eye the merch desk stacked with T shirts like it’s gold dust. Feeder’s return to Australia feels like a long-awaited homecoming gig for a band who’ve soundtracked countless lives.
But before the UK alt-rock legends take their place under the lights, it’s Satin Cali who fire the first shots. Hailing from the Wollongong, they swagger on stage with sun-bleached riffs and a confidence that’s earned—not borrowed. There’s grit beneath the gloss here. Highlight for me is a blistering cover of Oasis’s Morning Glory—loud, loose, and loaded with swagger.
The lights drop, and the pre-show playlist takes a wild left turn—from the fury of Rage Against the Machine’s Killing in the Name to the hushed harmonies of Simon & Garfunkel. It’s a bizarre sonic detour, but somehow it sets the stage perfectly as Feeder stroll on. Frontman Grant Nicholas still commands the place with a blend of intensity and warmth—the kind of frontman who can tear your heart out one moment and have you screaming into the void the next. Beside him, Taka Hirose remains one of rock’s most effortlessly cool figures: a samurai-meets-punk aura that’s entirely his own.
The band swing into ELF from their latest record Black/Red, a moody pulse rippling through the venue like a storm brewing in slow motion. Without missing a beat, they drop into Kyoto—Nicholas shouting the name like a battle cry, and for a split second, you’d be forgiven for thinking he’d mixed up his cities. But no, the timing’s tight, the intent is razor-sharp, and the crowd knows exactly what’s coming.
Then comes Feeling a Moment—that soaring “woo hoo” lifting every arm and every heart in the room. It’s a track that’s aged like fine wine, and the audience are drinking it in.
Years on from the devastating loss of Jon Lee, tonight’s performance isn’t just tight—it’s a testament. They’ve endured. And judging by tonight, they’re still very much in their moment.
Images Deb Pelser
