Review: Spiderbait at Ice Cream Factory

Spiderbait at Ice Cream Factory
w/ Blush, The Gnomes, The Meanies
Saturday, July 11, 2026

Celebrating thirty years since the release of their seminal, multi-platinum-selling album Ivy and the Big Apples, 2026 ARIA Hall of Fame inductees Spiderbait came west on Saturday night with the seeming intent to destroy any remaining eardrums their Perth fans may still have had, whilst also giving the soundproofing of the Ice Cream Factory’s warehouse an almighty workout.

Local four-piece Blush began the night, selected for this gig after a social media call-out from the headliners, who had asked their followers to suggest up-and-coming Boorloo acts. Blush were earnest and energetic in their approach to the evening and performed with acres of charisma to spare.  Their music indicated distinct influences from The Runaways to Heart, through Elastica and The Breeders, and perhaps even The Bangles at that band’s hardest edge.  Standout tracks were My Mind, Embarrassed 4 U, and especially the set closer I Choose the Bear; the latter’s already full-throated chorus raised to a near-scream from frontwoman Skye Sam—as its delicious venom continued to reverberate across the venue, the song easily held anthemic potential for this messiest of decades.

Next up were The Gnomes, first-time visitors to Perth from Frankston, Victoria, who had already toured Europe two months ago before deigning to cross the Nullarbor. The group were a glorious throwback to less complicated times, with the lyrics and chords of the sixties, the glam rock swagger of the seventies, and the nineties revival of both; that last decade itself more retro than most of tonight’s crowd would care to admit.

As lead vocalist Jay Millar channelled either his best Lennon or McCartney, the performance was as effortlessly cool as mop-top hair, handlebar moustaches, synchronised jump kicks, and sunglasses indoors. The Gnomes took most obvious inspiration from The Beatles, Supergrass, or Jet, with smatterings of blues and even surf rock in the mix, as the band demonstrated a magpie-like dedication to uncovering the treasures from each of their forebears.

This may have been The Gnomes’ first trip to the state, but on the strength of this appearance alone, there was a fervent wish amongst much of this evening’s audience that they would return soon and often.

Switched from the newness and all the potential futures of the first two acts, the primary support slot tonight was given to a more veteran affair, The Meanies. Formed in Melbourne in 1988, these punk elder statesmen provided a visceral and frenetic set, the music tight yet played at a million miles an hour whilst frontman Link Meanie sang at very nearly the same speed. Link then promised to slow it down, only to bait and switch with a track even faster.

At another point, Link asked the backstage crew, out loud on the primary microphone, how much further their set had to go. Given the answer, twenty minutes, the band suggested they could extend their current longest song, all of four minutes, to cover that time. The audience were either on board and fully committed to The Meanies’ performance as it stood or had found a quieter corner of the venue to question what was happening, but whether it was seen as chaotic unravelling or merely relaxed and loose, all could firmly agree on the extremely high energy the group provided for this gig.

After a break of twenty minutes while the crowd wound down from the intense punk revival they had just been swept up in, the epic trumpets and synths of Fanfare for The Common Man, better known in this country as the nineties’ Channel Seven sports theme, ushered headliners Spiderbait to the stage. In case anyone had forgotten who they were here for, the band name was in bold white letters on the screen behind. The fans surged forward to occupy the previously unfilled spots near the front as Janet English, Kram, and Damian Whitty launched directly into the album all were here to hear, without further ado.

Lead tracks Chest Hair and Hot Water and Milk were warmly received by the audience, followed by the flat-out oddness of hearing the six-minute instrumental When Fusion Ruled the World played in full, which allowed the dancers in the venue to get some grooves in. However, it was not until Calypso, five songs in, that the fans truly began to find their voices, to which English wryly noted, “You know the words.”

Kram himself stated early in the piece that some of these songs had hardly been played live at all in the intervening years, seeming to ask forgiveness for any rust—not that the audience could tell; the trio still fully in sync with each other after all these decades, come together once more as one complete unit. The front of the crowd, not quite a mosh pit, was an odd mix of sweat below and cameras above, which made one wonder, not for the first time this year, how on earth concertgoers survived before smartphones.

Sometimes, to bring a specific album on an anniversary tour and then to play it fully through in order, there can be a tendency to view it as nostalgia bait or mere fan service, but tonight, Spiderbait, with Ivy and the Big Apples, effortlessly reminded those in attendance how experimental and filled with variety this project actually was. From the alt standards and indie darlings, as those genres were understood thirty years ago, to some pieces almost heavy metal through to what could absolutely fit into a rave, the album, both studio version and live, remained a constantly evolving creature throughout its runtime, a musical microcosm of the mid-nineties.

With the album now played through completely, give or take the hidden tracks, the band left the stage to several minutes of distorted feedback before returning for what was less an encore, more a second act, containing many of Spiderbait’s non-Ivy essentials.

The band hadn’t been especially chatty between songs so far this evening but now spoke of the past, present, and future as embodied in the showbill tonight—Blush and The Gnomes were announced as the present and future, while Kram spoke of himself, his bandmates, and The Meanies as the past. A truly rocking past, to be sure, but nonetheless, more in the rear view than the forward.

Further history was given about Spiderbait’s first concert ever, at The Tote in Collingwood in 1990, in which The Meanies assisted in selecting the lineup that long-ago evening, which had helped cement a career-long association between the two bands. There appeared nothing but respect, support, and care therein before a rollicking, extended, and very loud version of Old Man Sam, an older track and firm fan favourite.

Fucken Awesome was sung as loudly by the audience as they had attended to Calypso during the earlier set, and the song, barely two minutes long from the studio, was given the extended treatment live, to the absolute delight of the crowd. Spiderbait completed the gig with Black Betty—could it have been anything else—and continued to rattle the decibels upward through to the utter end.

Taken all as one tonight, this gig was a fierce statement of intent by all four bands, individually playing to their strengths but collectively better together. Spiderbait should be congratulated on weaving the old and new here so perfectly, as much as on their own musical contribution to it, obviously. The fans had arrived hungry for absolutely everything, and the band had sent them merrily home, totally satisfied.

PAUL MEEK

Photos by Adrian Thomson