A mixed bag of Gen Xers and millennials drift into Brisbane's The Tivoli alongside a heavy wave of Gen Z, all funnelling toward the bar, the merch desk, the pit, all carrying that same twitchy anticipation.
There's a sense of something being rewound and replayed tonight (30 April). Superheaven is finally back on Aussie soil after a long stretch in the void, and the room is filling like people know this one's not a casual drop-in.
Sydney's Secret World kick things off, settling into that hazy, layered wall of sound without wasting time.
Dennis Vichidvongsa (guitar), Ryan Pond (vocals), Tom Maddocks (guitar), Josh Campiao (guitar), Adrian Kelly (bass), and James Watroba (drums) build it thick and moody, guitars stacking like fog rolling in low. The set is devoured by the crowd on the floor.
Just before 'Everywhere Now', Pond shares how Superheaven threw 'em a slot to a sold-out show when they were over in the States. You can feel that gratitude bleeding into the set
Pond can't keep off the edge of the stage or from getting up close to punters on the barrier. The crowd love the close interactions. While the early crowd is still filtering, heads inside are nodding and bodies moving as people clock they're not just filler, they're setting a tone.
Secret World - image © Clea-marie Thorne
They finish the set with 'Good Faith' and an invitation to sing-along to 'Living Less' while also being reminded to "be kind to one another". I genuinely feel this is the vibe of tonight's crowd.
Stage change happens as fans create a loud din of chatter and laughter. I notice the queues inside: loo lines are non-existent, merch line is steady and the bar line winning the popularity contest.
It's not long before Angel Du$t tear in, flipping the whole room on its head. This is not hyperbole. The energy is intense, urgent and sheer insanity.
Justice Tripp (vocals) is pacing, twitching, barely containing it as they rip through 'DU$T' straight into 'Space Jam', not giving anyone a second to settle. The leaps and high kicks are jaw dropping.
Steve Marino (guitar, vocals) is bouncing between melody and chaos, the whole band moving like they're plugged into the same dodgy, erratic power source. 'Take My Love' and 'The Knife' each land hard, but it's 'The Beat' where the first proper bodies start flying, the crowd loosening up, that polite early energy getting absolutely stomped out.
Tripp is getting onto the barrier more than once as the fans point their fingers in the air, screaming into the mic when he does. By the time 'Cold 2 The Touch' and 'Love Slam' roll through, it's getting messy in the best way.
Angel Du$t - image © Clea-marie Thorne
People are shouting every word to 'Love Slam' – arms are slung over mates, beers sloshed, the floor turning into that half-controlled shove where everyone's grinning through it.
'Brand New Soul' hits like another warped sing-along. Next is 'I'm The Outside', dragging the sound somewhere a bit more jagged before they kick back into gear with 'On My Way' and 'Set Me Up'.
Tripp barely pauses, just driving it forward, and when 'Sippin' Lysol' lands, it's pure chaos, bodies piling, security already earning their pay. They wrap with 'Stay' and a loose, punchy 'Stepping Stone', leaving the room buzzing, cracked open and ready.
No questions. I'm wrecked and I'm only watching. This set is hitting as my first proper taste of live Angel Du$t and yeah. . . it's converting me on the spot.
A break to catch our breath. Then Superheaven step out; no theatrics here, just plugging in and letting 'Sponge' rip – the shift is immediate. The crowd surges forward, the floor tightens, and even the balcony brigade upstairs are leaning hard over the rail, locked in and watching it all unfold like it might reach the second level.
Superheaven - image © Clea-marie Thorne
'Leach' and 'Cruel Times' roll in thick and heavy, that signature fuzz just swallowing the room whole. Taylor Madison (vocals, guitar) and Jake Clarke (vocals, guitar) trade those worn-in vocals like they've never stopped doing this, everything sounding massive but still loose enough to breathe.
'Around The Railing' and 'Numb To What Is Real' drag the room deeper, people closing eyes, swaying, then snapping back when the riffs hit that little bit harder. 'No One' and 'Room' keep that push-pull going, the pit shifting between slow churn and sudden bursts.
'Downswing' kicks that decision out the door, bodies moving again, shoulders knocking, that shared energy building without needing to be called out. Then it clicks for me about demographics.
Superheaven - image © Clea-marie Thorne
'Youngest Daughter' starts creeping in and the reaction is instant, like a switch getting flicked. Phones appear everywhere, voices are getting louder, younger crowd absolutely losing it, every word getting screamed back like it's been living in their heads rent free.
It's messy, loud, a bit chaotic with all the screens in the air, but it's also unreal watching a track blow up a second life like this. This is the crossover moment, the one dragging a whole new wave into the fold, and they're grabbing it with both hands.
From here it's just rolling. 'Crawl' hits raw, 'Stare At The Void' stretches things into that hypnotic, droning headspace, the room almost floating before 'Long Gone' pulls it back into something tighter and more grounded.
We are warned there is no encore, just two more songs. Fans are cheering and in seconds 'In On It' punches through with that familiar grit, and by now no one's standing still, not really, just different levels of movement depending where you're wedged.
Superheaven - image © Clea-marie Thorne
They close with the fan favourite 'Poor Aileen', and it lands heavy, not just loud but weighted, like everyone's emptying whatever's left into it. Voices are cracking, arms are up, people clinging to each other, and when it cuts, it doesn't feel finished so much as wrung out.
Punters then spill out into the Brisbane night, ears ringing, shirts sticking, a bit dazed but grinning like idiots, like they've just been let in on something again that never really left, just went quiet for a while and came back louder, thicker, and somehow hitting harder where it counts.
