Pix and review Ali Williams
Coming off the back of years of seeing Regurgitator in every possible configuration, the Jukeboxxin – With A Fist Full Of Fizzers ran through The Backroom at The Great Northern Hotel on February 26 and Miami Marketta on February 27. It felt like watching a band deliberately lean into their weirdness rather than polish it away. Two shows, two wildly different rooms, same core outcome: controlled chaos executed by people who’ve been doing this long enough to know exactly when to let things wobble, reminding everyone why this band has survived trends, formats, and the death of attention spans better than most of their peers.
The Backroom at The Great Northern Hotel on February 26 felt like a house party that got wildly out of control. The following night at Miami Marketta on February 27 was louder, sweatier, and somehow even more unhinged. Same jukebox concept. Same band. Entirely different beasts.
Before Regurgitator even touched the stage, Dem Mob made it clear this wasn’t going to be an audition Their set was sharp, politically charged, and confidently delivered without slipping into sermon territory. The beats hit hard, the message landed harder, and the crowd didn’t need warming up after that. Dem Mob don’t ask for your attention. They take it, hold it, and dare you to look away. As a support act, they were the perfect tone-setter: contemporary, confrontational, and impossible to ignore. They didn’t pander, didn’t soften the message, and didn’t need to. It was the kind of support slot that resets the energy in a room and demands attention rather than politely asking for it.
Then the jukebox kicked in.
For the uninitiated, Jukeboxxin shuffles the setlist, it’s chaos with structure, and Regurgitator thrive in it. Watching them navigate that unpredictability is half the thrill. There’s no autopilot here. You can see them reacting, recalibrating, laughing at curveballs, and occasionally looking mildly terrified by the choices they’ve collectively made.
Front and centre, the experience felt intimate in the best way. In The Backroom, you’re so close you can see the glances between band members as they clock what’s coming next. The room bounced between sweaty sing-alongs and moments where the band leaned into the absurdity of their own catalogue. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t meant to be. It was loose, playful, and very much alive.
Miami Marketta the next night dialled everything up. Bigger crowd, thicker air, and a more feral energy from the jump. The atmosphere became more chaotic, the reactions more animated, and the crowd far more vocal about what they wanted and what they did not. Again, Dem Mob didn’t so much warm up the crowd as snap them to attention. From the front, it was obvious they understood the room immediately. Their lyricism was sharp and held an unfiltered presence that cut through the Friday-night chatter fast. Their set carried weight without ever feeling preachy, balancing cultural pride, political bite, and pure performance. Confidence that isn’t commanded and respect received because they earned it.
When Regurgitator took to the stage, the vibes were high and scene was set and the band leaned in hard relishing in the unpredictability, and riding the wave of whatever the crowd threw their way. There’s a steady calm that comes from knowing your back catalogue is strong enough to survive public democracy.
What stood out across both nights was how well Regurgitator balance humour with musicianship. The jokes land, but the playing never suffers. Songs that could easily become novelty moments are delivered with intent and weight, reminding you that beneath the irony and genre-hopping is a genuinely tight, experienced band. They’ve always blurred lines between electronic, rock, pop, and whatever else they feel like throwing in, and Jukeboxxin only amplifies that shape-shifting identity.
The telepathic interplay between band members Quan Yeomans, Ben Ely, Sarah Lim, and Peter Kostic is undeniable. Seeing that play out onstage is, dare I say it, poetically fucking beautiful.
The way Quan floats between dry humour and razor-sharp focus, sets the scene for the rest of the band to lock onto . Watching him clearly enjoying the freedom to let the sets breathe without over-explaining it, shows us that, just like fine wine, some musicians cure with age to become high end and rare.
Contrasted perfection is achieved with Ben who doubles down all that he is with that unmistakable mix of groove and playfulness, giving the songs weight even when they veer into left-field absurdity. When The Gurge made the decision to include Sarah Lim on a permanent basis, they took a band who was already embedded into the hearts of their fans and leveled that good shit up. She’s been their best addition yet. The way her “key”tar adds textures and that gorgeous hot pink 6 string, adds colour and lift throughout, and of course that majestic mane of beautiful hair have made her an icon in the band and one worth keeping . And of course there’s Pete, on drums driving the whole thing forward. He delivers it with precision and punch, especially in moments where the music moves into heavier and more chaotic turns, Pete provides that familiar and steady tone and becomes the anchor for the rest of the band.
Together, they make the looseness intentional not messy, proving that this version of Regurgitator still runs on trust, instinct, and a shared sense of mischief.
The crowds on each night were different, the rooms couldn’t be more opposite, but the takeaway was the same. Regurgitator remain one of the most adaptable and engaging live acts in the country because they refuse to stand still, and make it look effortless.
Two nights, one jukebox, zero predictability. Exactly how Regurgitator should be experienced.
Peace. Love n Mungbeans fam. 🙏
Tickets for remaining shows https://regurgitator.oztix.com.au/
