Review: Shepparton Airplane at Seasonal Brewing Co.

Shepparton Airplane at Seasonal Brewing Co.
w/ Life Cult, Spacerhead, False Cobra
Friday, September 12, 2025

What might otherwise sound like a joke band by name, Shepparton Airplane, brought a serious case of Melbourne-forged post-punk to Perth on their first WA tour. Supported by three Perth acts—macho pub punk, goth revival and acerbic post-hardcore—this was a night that proved Perth more than holds its weight in the punk game.

False Cobra got things rolling in a typically feral, beer-swilling style. If you’ve seen them before, you know the deal: blistering riffs, hollered urgency and rhythms snapping like a coiled spring. The vocals were clearer than at their previous gigs; whether down to the mix or the system, it revealed how sharp their gang choruses can be when in sync. “Like a Japanese businessman, you have my permission to disregard society,” their drummer-frontman declared, as though shedding the week’s grind was part of the service.

There was comedy in the carnage too—the centre-stage bassist gyrating with comical earnestness, a cheeky bow to the Shepparton Airplane gents seated up front with their dinner, and the running gag about which Perth highway their next track referenced (Canning Hwy, btw). All up, an apt starter for a night of bands going for broke in the Brewery’s back room.

Then Spacerhead, fresh from a Melbourne run, delivered six brutal cuts that shredded the very air. Opener Morals set the scene with punishing pressure, the trio already expending themselves physically. From Petrol dogs and Thread bare, Lindsay Claridge’s screams felt unrestrained yet strangely controlled, tethered by hypnotic rhythmic pulses. Live, there’s a communication happening onstage that’s more than musical cues—it’s a physical, emotional language only a bonded band can pull off.

Disco’s relentless bassline blurred menace with groove, like My Disco grappling with an existential crisis: “Scared of talking, don’t look at me!” There is unbottled rage here for sure, but it’s not vitriol; it’s release. By Kettle Boils, they’d descended into swampy, dirty textures—laconic vocals against thrashing drums, sweat dripping—followed up with the new split single Apparent Squares. The comical posturing of the drummer belied the intensity of the mood—the trio dragging themselves from primordial muck, recalling McClusky at their sharpest. Ending the set with a thrown guitar, overlaid by a gently placed bass, Spacerhead’s dichotomy was laid bare: ferocity and discipline.

Life Cult shifted the gears again. Their goth-indebted sound drew heavily on reverb and tone, Alex Nilsson-Faulds’s deep baritone rolling between comfort and menace. The new single Life Is Love leant into sombre balladry, while Apparition and Never Again indulged their Joy Division and Sisters of Mercy leanings. The crowd thinned after Spacerhead’s storm, their syrupy goth spell possibly less suited to the pre-Shepparton Airplane slot, but the music’s Twin Peaks roadhouse vibe cast its own spell. By the finale, The Death Bell, a song about the end of the world, they’d surrendered fully to their own mood—infectious in its own funereal way.

After a tour of quality local bands, Shepparton Airplane arrived on stage to much anticipation. Opening with the melodic number No Prize, led by drummer vocals and a charismatic centre-stage bassist, we were almost full circle with a setup mirroring False Cobra. Lines bellowed from behind the kit, “No rest! No prize!”—a reminder that it takes hard work to look this effortless, but the Naarm four-piece were clearly in their element on stage in WA for the first time.

Across a 15-song set that celebrated their latest record, Forecast, vocals were a joint affair, adding to the variety and camaraderie on stage. Hell No (delivered almost like a casual “Hell-o”) carried echoes of vintage pub rock, while Scribbles and Noises bounced Wire-like in discordant fun. Septic Dream—a nightmarish concept—sparked with eerie guitar effects, speed and ferocity coming to the fore. Even when riffs threatened to take the band off the rails, the punk frame held everything taut.

Highlights stacked up quickly—Forecast’s dry, bass-led vocal recalls the goth tones of earlier support Life Cult; Someone to Blame, with its cathartic tirade and screaming feedback grating against the comparative pop tones of Stereo Youth, bassist-led again, punching between maturity and rollicking energy. There was humour too—the request for a cup of tea later in the set reminding us these aren’t quite fresh-faced punks despite the fervent energy on stage.

The late-set thrash of So Cool, What It’s Worth, and Congratulations—three Sharks-era tracks blasted out in barely five minutes—was exhilarating, a ferocious reminder of the band’s raw punk roots. A little birdy tells us Shepparton Airplane started out as a Wire rip-off band, and the comparison isn’t far-fetched: What It’s Worth’s call-and-response between emphatic lines and quirky guitar twangs was sharp, abrasive, and a whole heap of fun in the Wire vein.

Rounding up the set, Heaven Will Take Us In kicked off with an almost My Sharona beat, toying playfully with rhythm and bass, while closer No Stars consolidated the set with a sound both vintage and spirited.

If False Cobra were fierce, Spacerhead visceral, and Life Cult indulgently goth, Shepparton Airplane tied the night together with a set that proved punk can be melodic, feral, funny, and deeply human all at once. Their first Perth show felt less like a cherry-popping and more like a long-overdue landing—turbulent, noisy, and absolutely triumphant.

CAT LANDRO

Photos by Linda Dunjey