Review: Split Enz at RAC Arena

Split Enz at RAC Arena
w/ Vika & Linda
Friday, May 22, 2026

With their last original material released more than four decades ago, their most recent concert in Perth having been at the Burswood Dome in 2006, and eight years since keyboardist Eddie Rayner said that everyone was far too busy for another reunion tour, New Wave icons Split Enz, undoubtedly New Zealand’s greatest musical export of the twentieth century, made an improbable, imperious return to the west on Friday night.

Self-styled ‘Frenz of the Enz’ Vika & Linda were the opening act this evening, and the Bull sisters low-key commanded the stage as effortlessly as if they were the headliners themselves. Performing in immaculately crisp white suits, amazingly not ruined in their luggage on the flight from Melbourne earlier in the day, the siblings brought to the arena a powerhouse set, strongly influenced by blues, soul, and gospel, their voices spectacular with harmonies tight as much now as they had ever been.

Vika and Linda introduced the classic When Will You Fall for Me, the first single from their debut album, as written for them by ‘Tim’s brother’s bassist’s brother’, an implied five degrees of separation from another Australian legend, Mark Seymour. The sisters also gave insights from their journey across the Antipodean music sphere; these tales were shared with an ease and authenticity that was delightful.

The title track of the new album, Where Do You Come From, was a stridently direct challenge to the casual racism prevalent in this country that showcased a harder edge to Vika and Linda’s songwriting that the more casual listener of their work may easily miss. The Parting Song was another stunningly mature piece about death with dignity and the respect of loved ones’ wishes, without doubt the emotional core of tonight’s set.

There seemed to be a direct song request from a fan in the front rows, as if this were an overly relaxed pub gig, which the sisters delicately turned down on the reasoning that there had been enough downer tracks in their appearance already—which led to an almost ready-made mention for their own tour later in the year.

Leaving the spotlight, Vika and Linda gave all credit to their headliners, who had been the siblings’ number one band of their pre-teen years—yes, even above ABBA—and reiterated the absolute honour of being on the very same stage tonight as their one-time idols now turned lifelong friends.

After a twenty-minute break during which a red digital curtain fell, on which visions of the band’s first television outing in 1973 were played, the house lights went down, the stage lights went up, and a glossy orange traffic cone danced for the audience, akin to any of the weirdest Olympic opening ceremonies. Split Enz had arrived.

With the original members’ hair now as grey as their legendary I See Red music video suits, the group blazed through Shark Attack and History Never Repeats to begin, seemingly in as much of a rush now as they were in their twenties.

Tim Finn came up for air to banter with the audience, stated it was great to be on the Indian Ocean side again, and took the arena back to 1975 for the band’s first visit to Perth. Tim extolled the virtues of the long-gone Sandgroper Hotel, spotted some of its former denizens in tonight’s crowd, and remembered his first experience of forty-degree heat during that summer spent here. Neil Finn piped up, acting the wag, and advised his belief that the band still owed the Sandgroper money.

Poor Boy, with its odd lyrics full of alien love via radio astronomy, seemed to predict both Wi-Fi internet and the male loneliness epidemic. Tonight, played live, Rayner’s epic keyboard solo continued to speak to the vast, haunting emptiness of the universe, softened under the glossiest of pop-perfect sensibilities. The dichotomy of a song about extreme isolation being shared with several thousand audience members all at once perhaps gave the track even more power than when listened to alone.

One cannot talk Split Enz without mention of their avant-garde sense of fashion. Set against the musical backdrop of instrumental Double Happy—Rayner’s first songwriting contribution to the band—the sartorial greatest hits were provided on the large LED screen behind, their unique hair and make-up also included. Worthy of any formal museum exhibition, this collection reminded those watching that Split Enz were always as much about the art as the music.

Noel Crombie, both percussionist and the band’s visual stylist, was given all his deserved flowers at this point and had also put together the tour look for 2026, six distinct looks for all players on stage. Tim was in tartan, either a mustard or caramel base depending on how the light hit; Neil was resplendent in bright blue pinstripe, and new bassist James Milne wore the most spectacular houndstooth.

Tim Finn sat at his piano and presented Stuff and Nonsense to the arena. One of those tracks that sound gentle and sweet yet contain the most bitter lyrics, it was written by Tim at age 26 about a relationship he was only half invested in. He further described it as a love song but brutal, which his bandmates could hardly believe was placed on the album. Out of many emotional highs across the night, this was right up there in the rankings.

From the sublime to the ridiculous, and next was the band’s infamous appearance on Kiwi talent show New Faces; the actual footage played as the introduction previously. Known as Split Ends at that time, they didn’t win, and the judging panel barely knew what to do with them. The band tonight played one of the songs from that performance, Matinee Idyll (129), and the vision on stage of Neil Finn concentrated over a mandolin whilst Crombie swapped between kazoo and triangle was absolutely, deliciously surreal.

As Split Enz made their way through the setlist, it became more apparent how challenging this material must have seemed to 1970s New Zealand and how relocation to Australia, or a London on the very precipice of punk, made obvious sense.

This thought was quickly followed by another, of a band that had been on the cutting edge of rebellion and turned now into the establishment, beloved by all. Of what happened when the enfant terrible became a grandparent. But, when the fans had given up hope for another tour ever again, it was time to live in the absolute present—those other thoughts could be pushed down for a while longer, at the very least until the concert’s end.

Rayner was once again magnificent on the keyboards as Pioneer began, another epic overture which led into that jauntiest of sea shanties, Six Months in a Leaky Boat. Another jolly song, Tim whistling and all, was surrounded by both an intro and an outro that again signified a great emptiness, this time that of the Pacific and Southern Oceans.

This was followed by I Got You, nominally the biggest of their hits and the one that has remained in the public consciousness the longest. The audience were in fullest voice at this point, and the most phone cameras of the night were trained on the stage.

The main set ended on I See Red, and it was as if Split Enz had somehow conserved enough energy from the rest of the show to go full out for it. The screen behind turned a thousand shades of scarlet, the instruments were played ever faster, and the audience took to Neil’s call and response with relish and near manic abandon. Chaos, noise, and utter brilliance—this was music played to eleven in absolutely every sense.

The three-song encore, great as it was, was more an exhalation of breath, a wind-down, after the electrified atmosphere that had come immediately before. The night ended with Strait Old Line, another classic in a show overflowing with them, as Crombie began on the drums for the first time all evening before he ended front of stage, playing the spoons on the Finn brothers’ bodies. This was Split Enz personified—weird until the very last.

All credit must go to the newer members of the band, drummer Matt Eccles and bassist Milne. It must have been daunting to be picked for such a legendary group, but they both were fabulous in their own ways and leant into the chaos often around them. After all, what would modern music be without its spine of drum and bass?

As for the originals, apart from the true colours of their hair now showing, they all performed as if still at the peak of the band’s powers. Crombie and Rayner were both fantastic; their skills or muscle memory on some seemingly very complex pieces are second to none, whilst with Tim and Neil, one could very easily argue there is nothing more musically satisfying in this part of the world than seeing the Finn brothers in tandem, simultaneously goofing off and playing note-perfect.

An evening that many fans thought would never come again, tonight’s performance was outstanding in every aspect. Five stars to the production, sound, visuals, song selection, the band themselves, and even the lore they brought forward—Tim Finn giving the history of Split Enz in his own words, supplemented at times by the others, gave the tales so much more power than basically anywhere else could.

The night was everything anyone could have asked for from these performers, and the audience was ever so grateful they gave it one more whirl, coming out of retirement for just one last heist. We may never see their like again.

PAUL MEEK

Photos by Adrian Thomson