Review: Augie March at Freo.Social

Augie March at Freo.Social
w/ Davey Lane, Nici Ward
Friday, April 3, 2026

Augie March must be one of the greatest, most underrated Australian bands of all time. They confirmed their enduring legacy over the weekend, proving their timeless, emotive music with poetic lyricism still holds up, with a rousing comeback performance as good as any in their long, illustrious career. It was a Good Friday indeed for those in attendance, as they played their biggest album in full, twenty years on, to an adoring crowd of dedicated disciples.

Released in 2006, their third LP, Moo, You Bloody Choir, marked the high point of their career, with the platinum-selling album’s lead single, One Crowded Hour, taking the number one spot in Triple J’s Hottest 100 in 2007. But beyond the hit was a rich, diverse record full of well-crafted songs with lyrical complexity and musical depth. Its mix of intricate indie rock and beautiful ballads resonated with people strongly at the time. It’s clear twenty years on the love for this classic album is still there, albeit with a mostly older crowd now looking at it from a different life perspective.

The heart of Augie March has always been the poetic brilliance, melodic mastery and literary lyrical genius of lead singer, songwriter and guitarist Glenn Richards, a reluctant rock star who’s never loved the spotlight or sought stardom. This is perhaps why they didn’t seem to capitalise on their fame at the time and never seemed to take it to that next level that they so richly deserved. Perhaps this was how he preferred things, having consistently released eight albums over the course of their career and generally flying under the radar.

It was the start of their national tour to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Moo… and a big crowd descended on Freo.Social early, getting some drinks in while perusing the well-stocked merch desk that featured many of their albums and some tour shirts, including a limited 20th Anniversary release LP.

Nici Ward of local legends Lonesome Dove fame warmed up the early crowd with her brand of 90s-influenced indie rock, great voice and catchy melodies, before Davey Lane of You Am I fame took the stage. An added bonus of this tour: he was following them round the country in support.

Davey doesn’t tour too often on his own these days but has released a string of solo albums going back over ten years, as well as with his other band he fronts, The Pictures, who recently reformed. While primarily known as the lead guitarist for his legendary Aussie rock group, alongside Tim Rogers, Lane is a talented songwriter and multi-instrumentalist in his own right. He wears his classic rock influences on his sleeve but performs with conviction and his own style.

He was a great choice of support, and you could tell most people there were well into it. The charismatic troubadour played a great set that almost seemed too short and held the crowd’s attention like that of a headliner as he moved through his songs and between instruments. A new track, Over, Over & Out, from his album of last year, Finally, A Party Record, is an upbeat, poppy number, and he pulled out one of the You Am I tracks, I’m My Whole World Tonight, from 2022’s The Lives of Others.

Primarily a guitarist, his mastery of the instrument was evident, but a slower Beatles-esque number, Some Other Wonder, saw him sit down at the piano before he strapped on his guitar again for a song he introduced about a relationship, amusingly called Dumbass Feelings, complete with backing track strings. He apologised for not being able to bring a band over with him and said, “You’re stuck with me and a band in a box.” The stripped back, minimal presentation was charming, and it was good to see Davey take the spotlight in this sense.

Several of his songs seemed to be about heartbreak, always a deep well to mine, with another highlight from the new album called God, I’m Fucked Up Over You, which he described as being “from my obsessed with Peter Gabriel file”. Mixing things up, the electric and acoustic guitar, as well as the keyboard, Lane displayed his range before finishing with Not An Option Now, a cover of Elly-May Barnes’s (Jimmy’s daughter) song Love Is Not An Option. He left to enthusiastic applause with an exclamation, “Enjoy Augie March, ‘cause I know I fuckin’ will!”

As the crowd milled about waiting for the main event, there was anticipation and speculation in the air—would they play the whole album? In order? Would they play some hits from other albums? Pretty soon, our questions were answered as Augie March casually took the stage and launched into Vernoona, the last song on the album. With One Crowded Hour being the first song on the album, it made sense that they would mix things up a bit, and indeed they did. Though they did work their way through every song on the album, sequenced in a way that had a nice flow, building up to the bigger and best tracks at the end.

The tragically beautiful Cold Acre was an early highlight, really shining live—the band sounded great, and Glenn’s voice soared, complemented by some nice harmonies. Some of their songs, like Mt Wellington Reverie, are a bit more sombre, meandering and dense, which drew a strange reaction from an impatient (and perhaps drunk) crowd member who shouted out, “Play a fucking real song!” which drew awkward laughs. It was hard to tell if he thought he was being funny, but it seemed to catch Glenn off guard, slightly confusing him for a moment, as he assured us the next song would definitely be real, leading into Victoria’s Secrets.

He apologised for taking time between songs, changing guitars and explaining that one of the challenges of playing the entire album was that “Every song has a different tuning. I thought I was being a clever fucker back then.” The Baron Of Sentiment had a swinging, old-timey music hall piano sound with a sentimental country edge. Kiernan Box on keyboards really added another dimension to the songs.

Ahead of this tour, the band announced that long-time lead guitarist Adam Donovan had decided to step away from the band to focus on other pursuits. An integral part of the band and a wonderful guitarist who knew just what the songs needed without overdoing it, Donovan was there from the start when the band formed in Shepparton, rural Victoria, in 1996, attending school with Richards and drummer David Williams. Richards went on to study literature at Melbourne University, and they drew their name from the classic 1953 novel The Adventures of Augie March by Saul Bellow, appropriately setting the tone for the complex, literary songs they would go on to produce.

Ably stepping in to fill Adam’s big shoes was Dan Luscombe—the well-known Melbournian guitarist, producer and composer, who has played with The Blackeyed Susans, The Drones and Dan Kelly and has played with Glenn before on solo tours. Playing the songs faithfully, he added a slightly heavier edge with his own muscular, lead style. He seemed to fit in effortlessly, and the band sounded fantastic, big and full, with all the instruments sitting nicely in the mix—the melodic guitars bright and clear alongside the keyboards, all locked down by Williams’ percussion and Edmondo Ammendola’s solid bass lines. Compliments to the venue and sound tech, Freo.Social has really become one of the best-sounding venues in WA, and it is a good-sized, open, tiered room.

Bolte and Dunstan Talk Youth is a remarkably beautiful song, probably the most lovely on the album. Despite him forgetting the lyrics and breaking the magic briefly, it was another highlight. For a songwriter as intellectual, intricate and lyrically dense as Richards, this was one of his most straightforward songs, with its touching chorus line, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, to be sitting and talking with you.”

They closed the set strongly with a solid trifecta of three of the best album tracks. First, the subtle beauty of Bottle Baby, its sparse arrangement bringing the crowd to silence, hanging on to every note. Then, they picked things up and rocked it out with Just Passing Through—one of their greatest and most kinetic numbers, with its stomping beat and Richard’s snarling, Dylan-esque delivery of such great lines as “I smile like a bandsaw; I’m sorry, darling, but your roving poet’s just a footloose manwhore who can’t talk the talk anymore.” It was possibly the highlight of the night, were it not for what followed—the moment everyone was waiting for—as they launched into the familiar intro to One Crowded Hour, and all the camera phones came out.

After the delicate solo intro of the first verse and chorus, Glenn stuffed up just as the band were about to kick in, and it all ground to a halt. “Jesus Christ, hang on…” he said, looking down, stating he’d hit the wrong guitar pedal. It completely ruined the build-up and anticipation of that critical moment of their most popular song. The band seemed annoyed, and the crowd were all left deflated, letting out a disappointed mass sigh, but Glenn seemed to find it all quite amusing, hilariously quipping, “Sorry if I fucked up your Insta post.” Was it perhaps intentional? It’s hard to say, but it wouldn’t be off-brand for Richards, who never seemed comfortable with the idea of having one song being a massive hit. Instead of restarting it from the top, he just restarted from the moment he muffed it, kicking straight into the second verse with the full band following in quickly behind him. Whatever the case, the performance of the song was so great everyone forgave him pretty quickly—a huge cathartic moment as the crowd sang as one and a perfect end to the set.

It’s a song that deserves to be held in the same regard as some of the greatest Australian songs of all time, and they played it as good as ever, with the band in fine form and good spirits. Glenn’s voice is truly unique, fragile yet powerful; he sounded superb and in total control as he wrapped his tongue around those wordy verses of poetic grandeur. They left the stage on a high and could have really ended it there, but they soon returned for a brief encore. After thanking the supports, they launched into the only two remaining tracks from the album they hadn’t played. They started with the gorgeous, floaty sounds of Stranger Strange, which conjured a beautiful yearning.

Glenn took a moment to wish a happy birthday to a person in the crowd who had been waving a sign around for a while. Maybe he was waiting so he could lead into his intro of the last track about the “relentless marching of time” for another one of their greatest tracks, Clockwork—a suitably epic finale. It really shone live, starting with a slow, loping pace, before it shifted gears in the second half and took off. It certainly pleased one woman in the crowd, who seemed to be losing her mind (in a good way), screaming as the song took off.

It was a near-perfect performance of the album, cleverly sequenced. You couldn’t really fault the set, but many were hoping they might play a few other fan faves and classics from other albums—Sunset Studies, particularly. When you have songs as magnificent as There Is No Such Place and Asleep In Perfection in your arsenal, it’s hard not to want to hear them when the band is in front of you. But in a way it was nice that for this album tour, they did what not many bands do—they just played the album. Nothing more, nothing less. Hopefully it won’t be so long between drinks till next time. Maybe they’ll do a Sunset Studies tour next? That’d be cool.

But this felt like a landmark moment in their long career—their classic, defining, breakthrough album, done as a faithful tribute twenty years on. It was wonderful to see them play the entire distinguished set of songs so freely and well, with joy and passion. It’s an album that deserves its place in the pantheon of great Australian records, and Augie March have earned their spot alongside our greatest bands.

ALFRED GORMAN

Photos by Adrian Thomson