Review: JD Garrahy
Rock ‘n’ roll is dead, you say? Yeah, sure—I’ll believe that when hell freezes over. It’s not dead; there just hasn’t been anyone worthy enough to fill the void since the rock gods of our parents’ era ruled the airwaves.
It’s been eight long years since we’ve had the immeasurable talent of Machine Gun Kelly grace our shores, and for the final stop of the Lost Americana Tour, every stop was pulled out. I’m going to try and describe it—so forgive me if I miss a few details.
Thanks to the brilliance that is the Gold Coast stretch of the M1 motorway, I arrived fashionably late and missed opening act Will Swinton. From what I heard from those on the barrier, I was poorer for it—an incredible artist commanding a stadium-sized crowd. He’s definitely on the radar next time he hits a venue in my city.
Taking the stage next was main support HUNNESTAV (stylised as honestav). With only the catwalk of MGK’s massive setup to work with, the Missouri native wasted no time whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Sure, many were there for the headliner, but honestav had die-hard fans scattered throughout the venue, shouting every lyric back at him. Every ounce of energy thrown his way was captured, nurtured, and returned tenfold. The enthusiasm was infectious—come back soon, you’ll be welcomed with open arms.
Lights out. Intro track engaged. Curtain drops. There he is—Machine Gun Kelly—cigarette in hand, smoke billowing as his Lost Americana Les Paul descends from the ceiling. This is what we came for. As Outlaw Overture surges through the venue, it’s immediately clear he isn’t here to mess around. Eight years is a long time, and MGK is making up for every second. Launching into Starman, the energy in the room becomes undeniable—this crowd is here to have the best night of their lives. No negotiation. And for many, that’s exactly what happens.
On a personal note, I’ve got a deep attachment to Machine Gun Kelly’s albums Tickets to My Downfall and Mainstream Sellout. These records hit hard when I first heard them—angsty, raw, and authentic in a way that other bands in the pop-punk revival never quite delivered for me. Tonight was about living in that moment and embracing the songs that carried me through some rough times. But enough of that—we’re here for the music.
There aren’t many artists who can command a two-and-a-half-hour set and touch every corner of their career, but MGK does it effortlessly. El Diablo, Forget Me Too, 27, and Times of My Life all land as highlights, while his cover of Paramore’s Misery Business ignites a massive singalong—proof that even when it’s not his song, he can own it and do it justice.
It would be remiss not to mention the number of families in attendance. Kids everywhere, completely captivated—watching what might just be one of the defining performers of this generation. At one point, MGK pauses to take it all in, joking, “it’s like f**kin’ Nickelodeon in here tonight,” drawing huge laughs. Later, during Bloody Valentine, selected fans are brought on stage to dance—including one young girl absolutely living her dream beside her idol. Gifted a guitar pick and told, “your smile makes my soul warm,” it’s a moment that melts the entire room. Beyond the spectacle, it’s a reminder that MGK isn’t just a performer—there’s genuine heart behind it all.
As the set powers on, there’s barely a moment to breathe. Whether it’s cuts from his extensive back catalogue or newer material, nothing feels wasted. The choreography during Cliché is sharp, the production flawless, and the sound consistently on point. Addressing the long gap between visits, MGK promises he won’t leave it so long next time. Bring it on.
Leaving Brisbane Entertainment Centre is always chaos—long waits, slow exits—but as fans blast Machine Gun Kelly through their speakers with merch clutched tightly in hand, there’s a shared feeling in the air. This might just be the gig of the year for a lot of people.
Eight years is a long wait, Colson. Let’s not make it that long again.
– GALLERY –
