Soft Play’s return to Australia hit like a damn battering ram and the sold-out crowd at Factory Theatre didn’t stand a chance. The second Isaac Holman and Laurie Vincent tore into ‘All Things’, the floor turned into a writhing mess of bodies, a seething mass that never stopped squirming. Vincent barely made it through the first two songs before vaulting off the stage, launching himself headfirst into the crowd.
Before the carnage truly began, the night was kicked off by These New South Whales, a band I’d been waiting years to see. Just as unshakable as the headliners, they delivered a set that was as tight as it was unpredictable, mixing punchy punk riffs with their signature goofball wit. Playing tracks like ‘Meat Hook’ and ‘Changes’ they proved that their signature brand of chaos translates flawlessly to a live setting. Nothing beats watching a local act tear it up in front of hundreds of fans who’ve joyously and closely witnessed their ascent over the years.

It’s exhilarating watching a drummer sing, scream, and hammer out standing up, barely missing a beat, front and centre. It shouldn’t work, but Holman makes it look effortless. Meanwhile, Vincent—half menace, half ringleader—spends most of the set mid-air, before crashing down in a constant one-man mosh. Together, they feel as feral as they did in their Slaves days, just grown, fully-formed, with sharper teeth.

The set was relentless, barely giving anyone time to breathe. ‘Mirror Muscles’ rang out, followed by ‘Isaac Is Typing…’ as punters threw themselves on top of each other. The chaos truly erupted with ‘Bin Juice Disaster’, then ‘Act Violently’ and ‘Fuck the Hi-Hat’.

And then came ‘Punk’s Dead’. The moment everyone had been waiting for—the song that makes a gut punch at so-called fans who lost their minds over the band’s name change. “Punk’s dead, pushing up daisies, come and get a load of these PC babies!” Holman mocked, echoing the words out like a taunt. Live, it hit even harder, spat out with the kind of venom only a British accent can muster.
(Peek the Robbie Williams cameo.)
Their latest album, ‘HEAVY JELLY’, is proof of their evolution. Tracks like ‘Worms on Tarmac’, ‘Working Title’, and ‘John Wick’ somehow felt even nastier, louder, more unhinged. And then came ‘Everything and Nothing’. Holman claimed the crowd had given them the loudest sing-along of the tour so far, and I believe him.
It’s punk, but on their terms. No gimmicks, no forced edge, not even a backdrop for the stage—just two guys making music that feels like it could implode at any second.
Punk has always been about tearing down expectations, and Soft Play is doing exactly that. They don’t need a full band, a polished image, or anyone’s approval. They’ve got a drum kit, a guitar, and a whole lot to yell about. That’s more than enough.

The final stretch had ’One More Day Won’t Hurt’ bleeding into the fast build of ‘The Mushroom and the Swan’, before ‘Beauty Quest’ threatened to level the place entirely. And then, ‘The Hunter’. A giant circle pit ripped through the crowd, an ever-expanding, churning blender that swallowed anyone brave enough to dive in. The lads didn’t hesitate—again, they were in there, mics in hand, screaming straight into the faces of the front row. The Factory Theatre was left wrecked, ears ringing – Soft Play came, we saw, they conquered.

















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