PETER BIBBY
- ballpointpressbne
- Mar 21
- 4 min read
Updated: 5 days ago
GIG REVIEW: BUTCHER / HAIRSTYLIST / BEAUTICIAN 10TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR | THURSDAY 13TH OF MARCH | BLACK BEAR LODGE
Words and Images: Aysha Swanson (@s1int1over)
Peter Bibby doesn’t just play a gig—he drags you headfirst into a wild, beer-soaked singalong where the line between performer and audience blurs into something real, something shared, something loud. Thursday night at Black Bear Lodge was no different. This was the second stop on his latest tour and from the moment he stepped on stage, sweat already glistening under the deep red lighting, the room belonged to him.
The dimly lit venue was seething with anticipation as the first act, C.A.R.E, took the stage. With deep, raspy vocals and gritty guitar, they set a moody, hypnotic tone. They delivered a heartfelt set, raw and brooding. The second support act, Black Dog Cat Band, brought impeccable musicianship, instruments weaving together in a seamless marriage of melody with a surprising country jam that had the audience linking arms. Both bands built the perfect foundation for what was to come.
Opening with Goodbye Johnny, Bibby didn’t waste time easing in—he threw himself into the set with that signature rasp, voice frayed at the edges but bursting with character. Everyone knew the lyrics and every word was hurled back at the stage like a chant, a conversational energy that persisted throughout the set.
With Nick Allbrook on drums and Johnny Baird on bass, Bibby ploughed through fan favourites like Home Alone and Hates My Boozin. The latter, a tongue-in-cheek lament on self-destructive habits, was especially rowdy. His vocals cut through the air like sandpaper, giving weight to his uniquely raw and unfiltered storytelling. Sustained guitar solos sliced through the set, with the stripped-back instrumentation amplifying the visceral, unpolished nature of the performance.
His solo section was a highlight—The Arsehole, Batteries, The One and Hippies—each played like a half-drunk confession, teetering between self-deprecation and defiance. The Arsehole, in particular, stood out, a track that transforms everyday frustrations into a raucous singalong. The lyrics “I know I’m an arsehole, but so are you” turned into a call-and-response with the audience, reinforcing the unfiltered honesty at the heart of Bibby’s work. This moment was my favourite of the night, where it was just Bibby and his guitar, stripped of the full-band chaos, allowing his storytelling to shine in its rawest form. It was intimate yet raucous, vulnerable yet rough—a perfect encapsulation of what makes Bibby’s performances so compelling.
The audience didn’t just watch; they participated. Friends saw two audience members jump up onto the stage, wrapping arms around each other and belting out the words alongside him. It was a moment emblematic of the night—uninhibited, joyous, and authentic. The room was a pulsing, swaying mess, not a single still body in sight as friends hugged, kissed, and shouted lyrics at one another’s faces.
Bibby broke up the album with a cover by Hayley Beth – “This is a fucking cover—we’ve now done half of the album so just going to divert for a bit”, he announced. “This is by WA chick called Hayley Beth, we used to do this song fucking back in the day when we were a little baby band in Melbourne”. It was a nostalgic nod to his earlier days, a rare glimpse into the softer side of an artist who revels in the rough and chaotic.
As the set roared towards its conclusion, Bibby launched into Cunt, Medicine, and finally No More Sleepovers – “Back in the day we never played this live—too hard”, he admitted. But the performance was seamless, a testament to how tight and locked-in the band has become. No More Sleepovers, a song drenched in bittersweet nostalgia, captures the moment when youthful recklessness gives way to the weight of experience. Its refrain— “No more sleepovers, I’m too old for that” —hit harder in a room filled with fans who’ve likely grown alongside Bibby’s music.
With sweat dripping down his face, Bibby looked out at the sea of devoted fans and grinned. “Round of applause for yourselves, you fucking legends”. The crowd roared back in appreciation, as the band left the stage—but they weren’t done just yet. Chants of 'one more song' filled the air, and soon enough, they returned for an encore, ending the night on an explosive high.
It was a gig that felt more like a raucous gathering of friends than a performance—exactly what makes Peter Bibby such a force in the Australian music scene. As the lights dimmed and the sweat-drenched bodies finally stumbled toward the bar, one last quote from Bibby hung in the air: “You ever meet someone at a bar and go back to their place and just play cricket all night? Come back to my place, I got a cricket net in my bedroom”.
Classic Bibby. Messy, funny, and unforgettably brilliant.
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