Last Thursday, Killing Heidi's 2025 Reflector 25th anniversary tour arrived in Brisbane and it's a sell out as part of the Open Season programme!
Ella Hooper (vocals), Jesse Hooper (guitars), and Adam Pedretti (drums) are joined by Clio Renner (keyboards) and Phoebe Neilson (bass) along with a bunch of fans up for a trip down memory lane on a school night (26 June).Hassall is the first to hit the stage in front of a chatty, rowdy, gathering crowd with 'Out Of Date' – think Tinder with less ghosting, more brutal honesty.
This singer-songwriter's a cracker, playing guitar while managing a foot pedal for a bass drum parked behind her, with her mate Will covering keys, snare, and even sneaky footwork on her guitar pedals and tuner.
'Overpopulater' is next and I'm cottoning on early that Hassall's got a soulful country twist sitting on top of her indie base that pulls you right in. Her lyrics – totally relatable – are all those things you think, but never say out loud.
Hassall - image © Matt McLennan
Like her complete aversion to the sound of people eating on 'Dinner Table' or 'Bad Boy', which is exactly what it says on the tin. I'm properly taken in by this upcoming artist – reckon it's that raw ocker vibe and brutal honesty that hits home. The sound these two are pumping out, considering all the multi-tasking happening, is bloody impressive.
Love her quirky humour too. She gives a cheeky plug for her self-designed band tee – a crossword with song titles from her new release dropping next week – before closing out with the eighth and final track, 'Dumbest'. The crowd gives her a cheer, and honestly, I'm sad to see her go.
Siobhan Cotchin is up next and by now the punters are stacking in. Cotchin's rolling with a full band and looks right at home on that stage, kicking off with 'Didn't See The Sun' and 'Cross The Line'.
In her satin black negligee-style dress, chunky platform boots, and a cowboy hat sitting atop nearly platinum locks, she's laying it bare – and confirming it when she tells us her songs are all about her feelings. You believe her too, because her voice rings with that truth-telling ache of someone laying it all out.
'Fill My Cup' rolls out next, followed by 'Do You Know What I Mean?'. Cotchin admits she's been overwhelmed watching the news lately – angry, frustrated, all of it – and reckons she's lucky to have songwriting as her outlet.
'If God Is A Man' captures that frustration with a quiet, seething fury that sneaks up on you. 'How Does It Feel?', 'The Truth Always Comes Out', and 'Ghost Of Us' are seeing heaps of the crowd singing along – clearly Brisbane's more across this Western Australian lass than I was walking in tonight.
Siobhan Cotchin - image © Matt McLennan
By the time she closes out with 'I'm Not Finished Yet', 'Give It Up', and the thumping 'Overdrive', I’m officially impressed — Cotchin's making her way onto my playlist first thing tomorrow.
With Ella's own solo country wanderings lately, you can see exactly why this fiery up-and-comer got the tour invite. People are scurrying to the bar and loos to prep for the headliner's set.
I can't believe – well, yeah I can – 25 years on and Killing Heidi are still pulling a crowd like it's year bloody 2000. The Tivoli's packed to the rafters. Gen Xers and millennials clinging to their youth, Gen Zs rocking up for the Y2K chic – the room's got that Big Day Out, backyard party energy all over again.
Killing Heidi - image © Matt McLennan
Everyone's shoulder-to-shoulder, buzzing like a dodgy powerline before the band even hits the stage. A recorded taste of 'Kettle' starts simmering through the room and before long, the blue-lit stage is filling with band members taking their places.
Ella Hooper, last to crash the party, arrives like a shot of pure joy – dressed in black (classic), glittery eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara (of course) and pure, unapologetic confidence. Jesse Hooper (guitar) looking cool as ever in his cowboy hat, slinging his axe beside her – that sibling chemistry crackling straight off the bat.
No fuss, straight into 'Mascara', and the whole joint's thrumming. Ella's bouncing across the three red-tapestry carpets to the intro, settling behind the mic stand – but not for long. She's off roaming the stage, mic in hand, working every corner of The Tiv – floor to mezzanine.
We even cop a cheeky bum wiggle in our faces as she belts "How do you handle all the bullsh.t that gets thrown your way?" Fans are singing along – loud, proud, and mostly in tune. "You sound great!" Hooper grins, and we only sing louder.
Killing Heidi - image © Matt McLennan
The pounding outro hits – diehards jumping as she punches out the lines: "They'll be left by the way. Oh, left by the pavement. Oh, don't be that stupid girl. . . dress in black. . . Don't be, be so stupid girl."
She cues Renner for the next one and reminds us: "We said we'd do the album start to finish!" Roars erupt – and then, goosebumps. 'Weir'. Chills down the spine. The whole crowd locked in, hands up, eyes glassy – one of those rare, magic moments you feel in your chest.
The Killing Heidi choir is belting it back and Ella reckons we're "not bad!" Partway through, she drags Cotchin back onstage for a cheeky hug and a shared verse or two – the crowd is loving it.
Killing Heidi - image © Matt McLennan
"Holy, fricken moley!" Ella exclaims at the end, still gobsmacked it's been 25 years. "You'll know it's real by the soreness of your feet and the hoarseness of my voice." No arguments here.
With a shoutout to Cotchin buying her a breather, they rip into 'Superman/Supergirl' – that fast, groovy contrast infecting the whole room. Ella's voice? Still a weapon. Sharp when she wants it. Warm when it counts. She's not just singing – she's channelling something ancient and loud and female, and furious.
Every lyric coming out like a spell. She's holding a note so long, I reckon Superman's standing by for resuscitation. The tunes keep pumping, the sing-alongs unrelenting. 'Astral Boy' shimmering through the speakers, that trippy, sun-drenched groove getting everyone swaying.
'Leave Me Alone' landing sharp – fists up, heads bobbing – the anthem for every fed-up moment that got us here. 'You Don't Know' charges in next, all jangly guitars and attitude, Ella grinning as the crowd spits the chorus right back at her.
Killing Heidi - image © Matt McLennan
'A Jar Labelled Small' brings that bittersweet, arms-around-your-mates kind of vibe – voices loud, glasses raised, everyone lost in it together. 'Class Celebrities' slams straight after, still dripping with the tongue-in-cheek bite that made it a Y2K classic – the crowd eating it up.
'Live Without It' keeps the momentum going, those iconic lines firing out, Ella prowling the stage like she owns every inch – which, let's face it, she does. The opening riff of 'Real People' sparks a cheer from the back bar right through to the barrier rail – fists pumping, a couple of old emo types already crying into their ginger beers.
The whole place is moving, and Ella's in total command. Eyes wide, arms out, dancing like she's part wind, part fire. It's loud. It's sweaty. It's love. 'Jon's Song' follows and just when it feels like we've hit the peak, Ella's tossing her hair and spitting lines like it's her last gig on Earth.
Killing Heidi - image © Matt McLennan
'Black Sheep' kicks in, the crowd loses it – that riff still hits like a brick to the chest. Ella's grinning, pacing the stage like a punk priestess. It's like getting slammed with all your teen angst at once. Beautiful chaos and a great false end to the set.
They leave the stage but no one's moving. Encore chants fire up quick and loud. They come back smiling, and launch into 'Calm Down', which does nothing of the sort. 'Heavensent' lands like the damn time machine Jesse mentioned earlier.
Half the crowd's closing their eyes, mouthing every word. The other half's pogoing like their knees still work. Jesse's guitar cuts through with that fuzzy edge, all heart and grunge-era glory.
By the end, Ella surveys the room like a high priestess whose sermon just rewired the congregation, ginning at us like we're old mates – and honestly, it feels like we are.
Who needs a time machine? Killing Heidi has dragged The Tiv kicking and screaming back to 2000 – smudged eyeliner, burnt CD mixes, all that glorious teenage chaos we never really outgrew. We've all taken a few knocks since then – turns out, so have they, but they're still standing. Still belting it out. Still bloody ours!
More photos from the concert.
