Puppets, a choir and broken chairs were to be expected at TISM's Sydney Opera House debut.
The famously anonymous Melbourne provocateurs have spent decades mocking Australian culture, so watching them take over the country's most revered cultural landmark was a very ironic dichotomy (10 April).
TISM have been creating waves of political commentary via witty diatribes and facetious lyricism since the 80s. Their blend of rock, dance pop and electronic sounds has created one of the most dedicated fan bases of any Australian act.
Just over 30 years since its release, TISM played their 1995 hit album 'Machiavelli And The Four Seasons' in full. 'Machiavelli' features some of their biggest hits, including '(He'll Never Be An) Ol' Man River', 'Greg! The Stop Sign!!' and 'All Homeboys Are Dickheads'.
It was an extra special occasion, with a large majority of the album's tracks not having featured on a set list since the mid-'90s – aside from a surprise warm-up show they did at Howler in Melbourne a few weeks prior.
Before the show even began, the Opera House's Concert Hall buzzed with anticipation, banter and a sea of 'GREG' shirts. When the lights dropped, cheers erupted, then instantly died as a full choir marched onstage.
A canvas sign reading 'Phillip Glass's Arse' was also paraded around the stage, which was the first of many title cards hurled into the crowd. The choir launched into a surprisingly beautiful choral piece about the American composer.
The acoustics of the Hall gave their harmonies a cathedral-like resonance, which was a surreal contrast to the absurdity of the lyrics. It was a perfectly TISM opening: confusing, theatrical and deeply unserious.
Once the choir exited, the real show began. Vocalist Ron Hitler-Barassi appeared in a five-foot tall sparkly black hat and a comically-large hoop skirt, mimicking the Opera House sails.
As he began the night's first diatribe – about the wankery of Sydney – keyboardist Eugene de la Hot-Croix Bun slammed the house organ from high above the audience. The extraordinary resonance from the organ was breathtaking, especially over Ron's vulgar rambling.
As the rest of the band walked onto the stage, wearing the same pointy attire, the opening notes of '(He'll Never Be) Ol' Man River' made the crowd erupt into cheers.
Within seconds Ron and one of the dancers, Les Miserables (II), launched themselves into the crowd, destroying their elaborate costume and ending up in nothing but sparkly balaclavas and boxer shorts, an outfit they'd keep for the rest of the night.
Ron crowd-surfed all the way to the back of the Hall as the band rolled into 'The Last Soviet Star' (also known as 'Russia'), the unreleased track from 'Machiavelli' cut for being too similar to The Beatles' 'Back In The U.S.S.R'.
The sound mix at this point was still settling; the guitars were slightly buried and the vocals occasionally clipped, but the band powered through with the same energy and buffoonery fans have grown to love.
When Ron finally returned to the stage, he delivered his second two-minute diatribe, this time on white nationalism and class inequality. Pacing in his underwear, he spat lines like: "What you lack is justice, not SU-f...ing-Vs" and "the thing about the workers is they're heroes and they're louses. It's one big contradiction, like TISM at opera houses."
From there the show only escalated. 'Garbage' saw dancers flailing newspaper-stuffed bin bags, dumping their contents across the stage. The sound issues lingered through the first few tracks, but the band's energy never dipped.
Once the techs wrangled the balance, the improvement was immediate: the punchy synths cut cleanly through the Hall, the guitar gained definition and Humphrey B. Flaubert's vocals finally sat where they were meant to.
The band then tore through 'Lose Your Delusion II', 'All Homeboys Are Dickheads' and '!Uoy Sevol Natas'. The latter was a standout musically. Humphrey sang the song with a theatrical intensity, while the dancers mock-crucified Ron with small crosses. By now the once-seated crowd was fully alive, cheering at the escalating craziness.
One of the night's biggest eruptions came with 'What Nationality Is Les Murray?'. Not just for the song, but for the arrival of three giant puppets dressed in the same costumes as the band.
They lumbered and danced around the stage, occasionally attempting to hug or fight each other, while Ron and Les once again ventured into the crowd. This time Ron walked along the seat backs as his boxer shorts slowly slipped down, exposing most of his arse by the time he reached the sound desk.
The set list sprinkled in classics from across their discography: 'Saturday Night Palsy' and 'I'm Interested In Apathy' from 'Great Truckin' Songs Of The Renaissance' (1988); 'I'll 'ave Ya' from 'Hot Dogma' (1990) and 'Strictly Loungeroom'.
Despite the chaos, the musicianship was undeniable. Eugene's synth work was especially impressive, as well as his vocals which were bright and articulate even during the most frantic moments. Humphrey's distinctive voice also carried effortlessly across the room, and Vlad II, the newest member, proved himself a worthy successor on guitar.
The energy in the room when at the opening of 'Greg! The Stop Sign!!' was seismic. The crowd's chant nearly drowned out the band, bodies bouncing in unison. The dancing here was at its best, with seemingly the whole band moving their absolute heart out to the 1995 classic.
Worth noting, Les II's athletic ability cannot be understated, as he managed to scale the four-metre-high back wall behind the stage and crawl his way through the back seating.
They closed the main set with 'Aussiemandias' and 'Whatareya?', leaving to a chorus of boos, the affectionate kind only reserved for TISM, accompanied by several voices bellowing "TISM ARE WANKERS!".
After a suitably dramatic pause, they returned for an encore with 'Old Skool TISM', their tongue-in-cheek ode to their 2022 comeback. Ron ad-libbed a jab at Opera House pricing – "How about these tickets, 7,000 f...king bucks" – before launching into the encore staple 'Defecate On My Face'.
Mid-song Ron spotted a fan in a 'GREG' shirt and hauled him onstage. The fan flawlessly sang the song's second verse while dancing with Ron, Les II and Jon II, before being unceremoniously thrown back into the front row, breaking a seat on impact. He proudly held up the severed seat back like a trophy as Ron laughed and finished the song.
The night ended, as 'Machiavelli' does, with 'Give Up For Australia'. One last burst of chaotic enthusiasm swept the room, including a fan in one of the boxes stripping down to his jocks.
As TISM walked off for the final time, the crowd let out a final wave of boos, exhilarated and fully aware they just witnessed one of the most absurdly entertaining performances of their lives.
