Frenzal Rhomb
The Gov
13th August 2026
This might be Frenzal’s show, but it’s Handouts’ night. Probably the best night of their lives, and at 14 & 15 years old, that’s probably not too surprising.
Handouts are Tanu on guitar & Zak on drums, and they play under a massive Centrelink logo (“We’re sponsored by Centrelink” calls Tanu. Probably Family Tax Benefit at this point).
It’s all energy, hair and a pretty well-warranted confidence in ability. The songs are exactly what you want to hear from a couple of Year 9 kids, mash-ups of everything from Pennywise to Pegboy to The Bronx. They’d be drowning in cease and desists if these went on record, but the crowd is right behind every move. And it’s a great crowd, the Gov is already filling out to the beer garden in expectation of the returning golden-dreaded headliners. The front row for Handouts are an adorable bunch of schoolmates and supportive parents (and grandparents!) while the turn-out is the now-standard representation of grizzled surfers to fresh-faced pre-teens.
There’s a solid amount of between-song banter, but we only have a single support tonight and the crowd are happy to indulge, so we’re treated to meaningful and uplifting commentary on how “people are shit”, “don’t be a shit person” and “don’t be shit to yourself”.
8 or 9 tracks of unbridled enthusiasm before Zak crash-tackles Tanu and they drag each other off. Check back in 4 years and I think you’ll see something pretty special, the kids have potential.
Now…”Let’s get down to the nitty gritty.”
It’s 23 years since Frenzal put out ‘San Souci’ (peaking at #42 on the ARIAs) and they’re dragging the horse around the nation in celebration, playing in full and adding a curated sprinkle of fan favourites. Jay points out early that the album isn’t being delivered in order so “Don’t write a fucking shit TripAdvisor review”.
After the initial burst of ‘Stand Up and Be Cunted’, ‘Russell Crowe’s Band’, the almighty ‘Punisher’ and ‘Ballchef’ (“true story”, apparently), it’s time to get down to the real business of what we’re here for. The banter.
Lindsay gets a roast from Jay when he ignores a newly minted stagecraft rule about mentioning the day of the week. Jay recounts a tale of their “biggest fan” accosting him in the pub on Hindley Street earlier in the day, yet having no idea they were playing the show tonight.
Then we’re into ‘5000 Cigs’ from 2011, the best year of Jay’s life, no explanation given.
Frenzal Rhomb have always been a band to keep their meat and potatoes separate. This is Pop Punk, but the Pop bits are proper pop, the Punk bits really punk, and the other stuff (Ska, Metal, Country) just finds its way in through and under. ‘Mr Charisma’ always takes its time to get to the hook, but the crowd are here for it, loud and proud. There are more feet in the air than on the ground, limbs everywhere.
Then, when we all thought the kids were safely tucked into bed, Tanu from Handouts is back onstage to guest guitar on ‘Bucket Bong’.
“Can I do the girl bit?” he asks, Lindsay obliges with a rapid-fire response. Apparently a couple were engaged to the song at Froth & Fury earlier in the year, Lindsay wonders if the 14-year-old on stage is actually their child.
And then it’s straight back into it. Gordy is, as ever, showing what nearly 30 years of playing together does to a man. All drumming power without breaking a sweat, making sure that every joke gets a properly cheesy “b’dum-ting”.
‘Looking Good’ rips through the outback in a busted-up Fairlane, Slim Dusty on a harder tip, out-Supersuckering the Supersuckers.
Not that we ever knew we needed it, but we’ve been gifted the best song about industrial poisoning in ‘Lead Poisoned Jean’. There are stories for everything, all inside jokes everyone’s in on.
“Ooh baby baby, it’s a white white world!” This may be a jab at their ’90s contemporaries, certainly sticking a finger up at white privilege.
There’s a running gag all night about how albums are mostly killers at the top and filler at the bottom, a dangerous thing to say when you’re playing one of your albums in its entirety. This is not at all proven by ‘Rehab’ and ‘Gone to the Dogs’. The latter is the band ripping on most cylinders, with plenty of backfires and loose riffing, the crowd are still throwing themselves around, off and over anything.
There’s an impromptu happy birthday on behalf of Michael from Darwin, but Lindsay has forgotten who it’s for, and then ‘Cocksucker’. Lindsay reckons it could have been a massive hit if they hadn’t used a naughty word.
This is immediately followed by ‘World’s Fuckedest Cunt’. Irony is not dead.
Then it’s ’60 Beautiful and Mine’, a loving tribute to Paul Kelly & Paul McCartney that has the added seasoning of these guys being contemporaries at 53. ‘Not My Friend’ follows, apparently the hit paid to lower Jay’s Subaru.
Then the music stops, and the kid with the impeccable punk hair is on stage, caught in the spotlight.
“Oh, that’s so cool. We call it musical fuckery where it’s like musical chairs. But the song stops and then you’re on stage. It’s awkward. It’s fine. You’re fine, man. I don’t remember your name, but I know your Instagram handle is salami.”
Except he’s not just run aground mid-set, he’s here to help out on guitar for ‘Punch in the Face’.
He does it solidly, throws horns and chucks himself back into the melee.
‘Punch in the Face’ is next level. It’s a waterfall of bodies over the front, the kind of chaotic, unnecessary cartoon violence that makes a Frenzal show a Frenzal show. Australia does punk really well, and this track is right up in the pantheon of absolute ferocity.
Michael ‘Dal’ Dallinger is playing frontman on bass tonight, crossing the stage back to front, side to side, then front to side. Slinging his bass overhead, tying his fingers in knots with determination. Tidy Dal, realllll tidy for a Thursday.
“I told you not to mention the day of the week!”
We’re rounding this out with hit after hit, reminding us that all the kids will, eventually, go to jail. Especially as none of them want to be cops.
‘Never Had So Much Fun’ was nominated for an ARIA in 2000. Best Pop Release. Not Pop Punk, Pop. Everyone loves it, every word. Great end to the show, no encore.
As far as I know, Handouts kid is still surfing. I know, for a fact, he’s never had so much fun.
