As I stomp in out of the cold Brisbane winter and straight under the suspended heaters in The Triffid's beer garden, I instantly cop the full force of what I've wandered into.
It's not my usual Friday night gig crowd – more like stepping into a rainbow-flavoured, internet-fuelled circus. Furries are floating past in partial suits, cosplayers are clinking drinks and gaming chitter is abundant.The Living Tombstone hit Brisbane (4 July) for their first-ever Australian show, and punters showed up with enough neon, iridescent hair dye and glowing LED accessories to make me wonder if they'd just wandered through a glow-worm cave.
Without truly knowing what I'm in for, I do know I'm here to capture a bit of this bizarre, phantasmic vibe with my camera. The liquorice all-sorts of humanity are still pouring in behind the VIPers: Pokémon onesies, cat ears, chunky boots, gaming tees, rainbow hair, flame-coloured wigs – you name it, they're wearing it, and everyone's grinning like they've been waiting for this day forever.
Image © Clea-marie Thorne
It's an all-ages gig too, which I love – the young ones are up on the mezzanine, faces pressed over the rail, eyes wide, already bouncing along. You can feel it – the next generation getting their first hit of live music chaos and I've brought my own childlike curiosity to the party.
The VIP punters were the first to slip inside, before any of us, and claimed prime real estate on the barrier. Little do they know, they're parking themselves there for longer than expected – doors were already delayed, first band not hitting stage until after 9pm, but no one's cracking it.
This lot? They've got dedication levels that verge on dangerous. I chat to one fan who reckons they rocked up at 10am to get their spot. A few convos down the line, I hear whispers of someone else arriving at 6am.
Devotion? Madness? Probably both, but looking around, it feels completely normal in this crowd. At least I'm getting some intel on who – or what – I'm photographing tonight. The diehards are schooling me quick.
Image © Clea-marie Thorne
I now know The Living Tombstone features two primary members: Yoav Landau (aka zero_one) and Sam Haft (aka Rust – also on vocals). The associated characters joining them onstage – the rest of the Tombsonas gang – include Tesla (bass), Armstrong (guitar), and Doc (drums).
Inside the hangar space, the wait turns into its own entertainment. Phones are going up with pictures of characters, Pokémon cards, digital art – cheers erupt, someone else joins in, and the weird little wave of joy rolls across the room.
Plushies appear next – unicorns, all sorts of Freddys – I've lost track, and enough random characters to fill a Toyworld window. It's wholesome, bizarre, and somehow makes the delayed start almost feel worth it.
The Similar is first up, adding to the mystery. Some reckon one of them is from The Living Tombstone, others shrug. No one's really worried about it. The Similar are punching out crunchy, alt-rock with pop-tinged edges, and the crowd's vibing hard.
The Similar - image © Clea-marie Thorne
Phones are up (again), plushies are waving like flags, a surprise guest joins them onstage (no, I'm not spoiling it) and when they bust out a cover of 'Pink Pony Club' (now you've probably guessed it), the room practically combusts. I'm grinning – I wasn't planning to review this gig, but by now I know I've got to write something.
By the time The Living Tombstone finally hit the stage, the place is fizzing. Doc, Tesla and Armstrong stroll out suited up like futuristic glitch gremlins – full LED and neon gear, lit up like they've been yanked straight out of some cyberpunk arcade dream.
When Yoav Landau and Sam Haft join them in character, the roar from the crowd nearly rattles the walls. First-ever Australian show, and it's clear they've dragged half the internet with them.
They waste no time launching into 'I Can't Fix You', as the whole floor erupts. It's mayhem, but the good kind – mosh, rave, karaoke, all tangled up in internet chaos.
The Living Tombstone - image © Clea-marie Thorne
The set's rolling on: 'I Want To Be A Machine', 'Basics In Behaviour' (aka Baldi's Basics), 'Squid Melody', 'Boulder', 'I Got No Time' – every song lands like a sugar-rush grenade, uniting gamers, ravers, rock kids, and meme heads under one, sweaty roof. Hand hearts are popping up everywhere I look.
There's a little instrumental breather, but barely – then it's straight into 'Malibu Pier', 'Epoch' (Savlonic cover), 'Somebody', 'No Mercy', 'Sunburn', 'September', 'Drunk'. The genre boundaries are non-existent, and neither is anyone's personal space.
The whole Triffid's glowing, singing, and bouncing as the young ones up top wave their plushies with just as much energy as the older zoomer heads down the front – their childhood dreams coming to life.
'Orphans', 'Animal', 'Be Alone', 'Goliath', and 'Spooky Skeletons' (Andrew Gold cover) follow – it's not just songs, it's a whole, strange, shared language of inside jokes, fandom chants, and pure, grinning mayhem.
Even the merch shoutout gets a roar, and judging by the earlier line-up, half the room's already emptied their piggy banks – I noticed during the break there's barely anything left.
It's about here I know I'm pushing it. I only planned to shoot a few songs, soak up the vibe; but this weird, wonderful gig's got its claws in me – and the community of TLT devotees have all but convinced me to stick around longer.
The Living Tombstone - image © Clea-marie Thorne
Unfortunately, I can't stay for the encore, but the moment I'm out the door, I already know I've got to scribble this down.
The encore? The set list I snapped confirms my new mates on the barrier got exactly what they were gagging for: 'It's Been So Long', 'Discord' (Eurobeat Brony cover), 'My Ordinary Life', and finally the huge banger 'Five Nights At Freddy's'.
I can picture it now – a full-tilt, neon-dappled, plushie-waving party sending the whole room home beaming. The socials I've scrolled since confirm my fortune-telling skills are still on-point.
The Living Tombstone's first Aussie show? What I witnessed? Weird as hell. Loud. Brilliant. A pixelated, plushie-soaked, neon rave of a gig. Like the internet climbed out of your screen, chugged an energy drink, and threw down its own damn party.
The young ones up on the mezz? Consider 'em officially corrupted – and honestly, what better way to start their live music life than this beautiful, colourful, chaotic mess.
More photos from the concert.
