I'm geared up for a Sunday session of live music with a bloke who happens to share my birthdate – just 22 years earlier.
This dude's had me singing along to his gutsy voice since I was still in single digits. It's the English-born soft rock, disco, blue-eyed soulful singer-songwriter turned Aussie resident (since 2004) and proud citizen since 2009 – Leo Sayer.
Brisbane's The Tivoli hosts the Still Feel Like Dancing? tour (5 October), and the place is packed with older gens lining up rows deep at both bars, clearly still in fine drinking form. I'm looking at the faces around me here for a kind of matinee sit-down shindig, feeling that weird mix of 'I feel way too young for this', and 'hell yes, I'm exactly where I belong'.
The room's anything but hushed. So many Boomers, alongside my Gen Xers and a smattering of millennials, and maybe some younger, are buzzing with loud chatter. The clock tells us it's still daylight outside, but it's nighttime inside and the aircon is cranking.
Image © Clea-marie Thorne
Under dim lights, the drum kit silhouette is casting a shadow across the bottom of a minimalist black-and-white digital backdrop of Sayer's name and head, 'fro and all. It reminds me of bits in his video clip for 'How Much Love'.
The crowd roars at the sight of Sayer in joggers, blue jeans, a chambray shirt and a pin-striped vest with a patch on the right that reads 'Don't be afraid to be different'. Oh, and his hair? Yep it's still doing exactly whatever it wants to! The cheers for Sayer are rowdy and heartfelt.
The set kicks off with cheeky banter, Leo getting the lighting guy to swing the beam up onto the fans in the mezzanine. He grins and reckons his songs sound better when you've been drinking – and judging by this crowd, they won't know tonight to compare cos most already have. LOL!
Kicking it off with 'Bedsitter Land', Sayer's controls those strong-as-an-ox vocals in a way that gives the lyrics a soaring, fragile edge while still being hell loud and clear. There's definitely no straining to hear him. I feel the weight of emotion behind every line he delivers.
Image © Clea-marie Thorne
Sayers band tonight are Bill Risby (keys), Paul Berton (guitar), Adrian Violi (drums) and Mitch Cairns (bass), playing tight and fluid from the get-go, like they've been jamming together all their lives.
As Sayer grabs his mouth harp for 'Giving It All Away', the crowd's cheering, the atmosphere swaying. Punters close their eyes, as does Sayer, mouthing the words, their personal memories pressing to the front of their minds.
The band keeps an instrumental interlude rolling as Sayer stops to chat. He's laughing about being 77, becoming forgetful and admitting he still stuffs things up now and then. He jokes that although he's got no kids, his nieces and nephews keep him in line. He reckons he feels like Benjamin Button on the inside and fair play, it kinda shows on the outside too.
Liz Violi (yep, sister of the drummer) and Olivia Nathan join in for this one, as the song continues so do they, layering harmonies so sweet a few fans start wiping tears in the dim golden light.
Image © Clea-marie Thorne
Next, a song about to hit its 50th birthday, 'Endless Flight'. Sayer spins a short yarn mid-song about writing it with David Courtney, who he tells us hates flying. There's humour, warmth, zero arrogance.
Next, he's tweaking the groove with a hint of reggae sway shifting the mood and getting toes tapping, hips wriggling in seats. It's like he’s saying, 'yeah, we can revisit this old thing, but let's make it live'. I certainly feel like dancing now!
Then that Crickets cover 'More Than I Can Say' lands and smacks the nostalgia nerve clean on. Fans clap it in. The backup singers hover, the band holds its breath in those long pauses. You can spot the ones who fell in love in 1980 who are sneaking a side-eye at the person who's still putting up with them all these years later.
Sayer cops some friendly heckling, even encouraging it! After telling us the next song goes back to '74, one bloke near the front tells Sayer and the room (lol!) he was born in '74. Sayer grins and fires back that by '74 he reckoned he was already past his sell-by date, then launches into 'Train' from that same year. The room takes it all in, the band keeping it tight, even while jammy at times.
Image © Clea-marie Thorne
We get the real ending to the story behind 'Moonlighting'. Sayer confesses he is a lair. That he romanticised the true story of Dave their roadie and his police daughter girlfriend's thwarted escape cross-country for the sake of writing a song with a happy ending. The lie is so much sweeter, and thankfully hearing the truth doesn't take that away.
'One Man Band' comes at us and heads start nodding, lips mouthing lyrics half out loud. He slips into a few bars of the Boudleaux Bryant cover 'Raining In My Heart' to start it off gentle on mouth harp with Berton playing silky guitar behind him.
Then it's just Sayer's voice, jagged with emotion with the backup singers taking a break offstage, leaving it all bare. Berton's guitar weeps while Risby lets the keys tinkle with tears. The room's hushed, utterly still. It's one of those moments where all the years collapse. Me transported to my single digits, head beside Mum's hi-fi speakers spinning this same melody, all of it flooding back.
Keeping the mood subdued, 'When I Need You' washes over with longing, that key moment where couples grab hands amidst the warm hush that is intermittently broken by the odd karaoke queen belting from the balcony or side of the floor.
Image © Clea-marie Thorne
Sayer's singing is strong but achingly tender and perfectly controlled. We get a bit more delicious mouth harp for good measure. Throughout the set, you can see the flickering flame of youth reignited by the music and memories shifting across faces, proof these songs left marks on their souls that never faded.
As the evening is crashing the day outside, inside there's been no straining for glory, just mastery crashing about our ears. You can tell Sayer's pipes would deafen you if he ever let them loose in the mix. I'm loving the way he's honouring every song yet bending them with a live infectious twist that's served up just for us and fluidly with such ease.
His humour is the icing on the cake giving a full rounded performance experience. That's the end of set one and I gotta tell ya, the vocal chops this 77 year old has would put plenty of 21 year olds to shame.
Our brief intermission follows. People natter loudly in seats, others off to empty bladders and refill glasses. Skoll and repeat could be an emerging pattern for some here on in. Ha!
Image © Clea-marie Thorne
Before long, lights dim and Sayer returns with something darker, glossier for set two. His presence shifts into a sharper, more commanding performer. The backdrop is flicking through historic images of his legacy to date. He's even changed into all black and looking flash in Broderie anglaise shirt, light jacket and pants.
The guys who were 20 in 1977 are sitting taller now, wide-eyed as 'Thunder In My Heart' hits. Its disco pulse is alive and well and those freshly lubricated lips are now singing every line.
'Dancing The Night Away' lifts the mood higher, hips swaying, feet tapping. Sayer's smiling, gesturing as he crosses from each side of the stage, daring the room to feel the rhythm. He even stops to hold hands, shake hands and dish out high fives to those close to him. Sayer is not shy of phones in his face either – why should he be, he looks damn fine and is spritelier than some of my mates!
Then another personal favourite 'Orchard Road', that has the room singing along before the mellow tones of 'Have You Ever Been In Love' washes in. It bathes us under rose-tinted light, bittersweet and glowing. "Yeah, I have, Sayer and I might still be," I think to myself. In love with the emotion of his voice that is.
Image © Clea-marie Thorne
He closes the main set with 'You Make Me Feel Like Dancing', and of course nature calls – I may have missed 'Long Tall Glasses' (I cannot confirm) but I emerge just before 'How Much Love' as the lights shift to rose and gold, and I can see there's no stopping anyone now.
Those few who are still seated are tapping their knees, shoulders swaying as the backup singers coax "come on, just sway!" It's joy, plain and simple.
The encore is cheeky. He disappears, the room hollering for "two more songs!" before returning with a grin a mile wide for 'The Show Must Go On'. Let's face it – it simply must. Then 'I Can't Stop Loving You' (quiet, gentle), a perfect full-circle slow closer, looping back to childhood, youth and everything in between.
Some couples stand leaning in, holding hands, smiling at each other. You hear it ripple around: "He's still got it." For those of us who grew up with that voice, that sound, it's reunion, grief and joy all tangled together.
Sayer and the band gather at the front of the stage, taking in the fan adoration. Sayer the true natural performer with that old-school showmanship, is taking it all in and there's even flowers!
Image © Clea-marie Thorne
Fans celebrate a set that's been equal parts heartfelt and hilarious, the banter rolling easy with that twinkle in his eye, to watching him share a moment with Marshall Hamburger ('Australian Idol' 2025 winner) onstage, even if it was briefly, it still feels like a special treat.
Sayer's voice shows few signs of age – those smooth curves, that falsetto reach still cutting clean through. The band rides with him, never overpowering, always playful. The whole room feels sacred, like we've shared something old and precious, stirred up again.
I walk out with ears full, heart full, even if the set list was a couple of songs shorter than I expected. I'm 50-something now, but tonight this kid of the '70s is laughing, crying, and dancing under the ghost of a blue-light disco mirror ball.
Sayer's songs still hold my inner child the same way I've held them – and all the memories – in my heart. That's the magic Leo Sayer brought to the world, and still brings.
More photos from the concert.
