“Melbourne, you cheeky bitch,” grinned Yungblud as he flirted with the crowd of his Tuesday performance in Melbourne for his Idols World Tour. Yungblud’s performance was brazen, chaotic and cathartic from the moment he set foot on the stage. Opening with ‘Hello Heaven, Hello’ he set the tone for the night with lights glaring and confetti raining down. Yungblud arrived with nothing but attitude, delivering rebellion, punk and sweat throughout the almost two-hour, 13-song set list.

Throughout the night, Yungblud blurred the lines between chaos and vulnerability; with his hair flicking all over his face while singing ‘The Funeral’ followed by ‘Idols Pt’ 1, he was screaming one minute and intimately confessing the next. It felt deliberately unpolished, almost confrontational. He swung between feral punk chaos and soft vulnerability, voice straining just enough to feel dangerous when singing ‘My Only Angel’.

The setlist barely gave the crowd a chance to breathe as we were all in a head spin when he sung favourites like ‘Loner’, ‘Lowlife’, ‘Fleabag’ and ‘Braindead!’ which ripped through the audience, each song feeding the next with zero restraint, not to mention literal fire spurting from the stage. Every second felt manic and alive; somewhere between glam-rock grandeur and raw punk chaos. Mirroring that push/pull between confidence and collapse, Yungblud really put on a show, running from one part of the stage to the next.

He yelled for everyone to get on their shoulders, stand on chairs, stick their tongues out and “make it feel like the ’90s”. He wasn’t being reckless for the sake of it, he wanted Melbourne to forget etiquette and remember instinct – to turn the room into a sweaty, disorderly shared memory instead of a neat Instagram clip. The people listened and participated, with everyone embracing the moment.

At one point, he vanished into the crowd, lit up a smoke (like the rules were optional) and turned up in the pit. Everyone went into a frenzy when he went out onto the lawn and sung amongst the crowd, breaking the fourth wall, refusing distance. Then came ‘Changes’, a tribute to the great Ozzy Osbourne. This one was raw, emotional and pure ecstasy as Yungblud shed tears during the heartful performance to his late mentor. 

Before he sang ‘Monday Murder’, he spoke about Mahsa Amini, the young Kurdish woman from Iran whose death became a global symbol of resistance. He acknowledged how the movement that followed has been led by women and powered by communities refusing silence. Raising awareness of the fight for equality, bodily autonomy and the right to exist freely, he stated, “Nobody is free until we are all free”, which was a powerful statement. The encore came quietly with ‘Zombie’. After the chaos the room softened, with lights dimmed, voices cracked and everything slowed. He let the song breathe; no theatrics, just feeling. It landed heavy and honest. Sweat, tears, laughter and fists in the air summed up the Yungblud gig. It didn’t feel polished or perfect – it felt real. Melbourne didn’t just see a show, they experienced history: a true performer made for the stage. One that kept you on edge, wondering what he’d do next. Yungblud definitely left his British punk rock mark on all the Melbournians in attendance.

Written by Adriana Perri @leblondefox