Powderfinger, Beware The Curse Of The Reunion (Naked City)

Maybe it was a slow news week – hardly considering the chaos and mayhem happening all around the world. Nevertheless, a number of our major news providers, both TV and print, persisted with a ‘rumour’ that Brisbane rock band Powderfinger would be reuniting for concerts – after sixteen years in the cultural wilderness.

Newscorp‘s Kathy McCabe reported:

“Powderfinger are seriously messing with us. The beloved Aussie rock group has sparked a frenzy of speculation among their rusted-on fans that something big is about to happen, after mysterious electronic billboards popped up in Melbourne, Sydney and the band’s hometown of Brisbane this week.”

That was the strategically planned PR preamble and then came the earth-shattering announcement that yes Powderfinger would be reforming and rocking their way around Australia in 2027. Second comings of course don’t come cheap and ticket prices for their shows have already been announced – between $140 and $233 with even more expensive VIP packages available.

Obviously it was a carefully planned and highly effective media blitz to announce their tour but you have to wonder just what motivates rock or pop bands to front the fold back wedges after years away from the public spotlight. I can’t speak for Powderfinger but obviously money is a big attraction, with nostalgia a great catalyst in prising open the wallets of long-time fans. With some bands and performers it could also be a kind of middle life crisis, an overwhelming desire to relive the glory days and prove that you still have some relevance in the present day.

Who knows, but whilst there have been some highly successful reunions in recent years there have also been a number of notable tragedies. Rock bands often split up in the first place as a result of acrimony amongst members and reforming is a bit like getting a divorced couple together for a night out on the town.

Those old anxieties can easily resurface as was the case when members of Jane’s Addiction got together in 2024 in Boston for a much-celebrated reunion.

Maybe it was an argument over the choice of back stage rider but tensions soon boiled over on stage with frontman Perry Ferrell physically attacking guitarist Dave Navarro. The rest of the tour was promptly cancelled and the back stage goodies probably went begging, unless the rapacious ever hungry roadies moved in.

Closer to home we have often seen once popular US bands and singers imported here, to capitalise on their popularity from decades ago. The Brian Jonestown Massacre emerged out of the early 90s psychedelic rock scene and cranked out an impressive 20 studio albums over the following decades. Their Melbourne date at the Forum in 2023 was to feature founding member Anton Newcombe, now in his early 50s and a seasoned musician who once boasted, “I’ve lasted longer than most of my heroes – yet I get zero respect”.

That respect was obviously absent in our southern capital, at least when it came to Anton’s interaction with the group’s guitarist Ryan Van Kriedt. Another argument over the backstage rider – who knows? What fans did witness was a good old onstage fistfight, which even spread to Newcombe abusing his dedicated Aussie audience.

A year later Anton suffered a massive heart attack, which (always good for a one liner) he described as “like an elephant was standing on my upper arm and chest”. After double bypass surgery and months of recovery he is currently back playing music but with no indication he is looking for the support spot on the Powderfinger tour. In fairness however the band did return to Australia for a kind of redemption tour earlier this year, minus Ryan Van Kriedt.

Needless to say one of the most notorious reunion gigs we witnessed was Meatloaf’s appearance at the 2011 AFL Grand Final at the MCG. Whilst he later claimed he was beset by a haemorrhaging vocal cord, his once powerful voice was reduced to an embarrassing whimper. He died musically on stage that day in Melbourne but his real death came in 2022, supposedly from the effects of Covid, after refusing vaccination and shunning masks. Shortly before his death he told one reporter, “If I die, I die, but I’m not going to be controlled”.

When it comes to band reunions in Australia, one of the least discussed but most bizarre was the 2011 ‘get together’ of Melbourne band, The Stomach Staplers. Originally formed by a group of cosmetic surgeons and paramedics in the mid 80s, they achieved notoriety with a series of outrageous pub and warehouse performances which invariably involved a climax of theatrical regurgitation.

After a disastrous tour to Sydney in 1991 during which lead singer Fidel Gastro was rushed to hospital after choking on a regurgitated Chico roll, and nearly died, they decided to call it quits. Two decades later, with most of the band in their early 60s, they suddenly decided to get back together with a string of semi-underground gigs around Melbourne.

After only two paying customers turned up to their initial gig in an old Carlton warehouse, they engaged a brilliant young computer nerd to erase every mention of the band online. Don’t try Googling their name as it just won’t appear. What they have done, and perhaps what many old school rock bands thinking of a reunion should consider, is to create an instant self oblivion.

In the words of writer Jack London:

“To be able to forget means sanity. Incessantly to remember means obsession, lunacy”.