Live review: Elton John’s Australian farewell at Suncorp Stadium, Brisbane
Saturday night in Brisbane was a concert for the ages, in which a glittering showman summoned every bit of his ability and experience to deliver his final Australian performance.
It was a concert for the ages, attended by about 45,000 music fans of all ages, in which a glittering showman summoned every bit of his ability and experience to deliver a towering performance.
At Suncorp Stadium on Saturday night, Elton John said: “This is our last ever show in Brisbane, and our last ever show in Australia – so we’d better make it a good one!”
That they did. Backed by a sensational band, the British singer-songwriter gave a masterclass in piano-led rock ‘n’ roll. The setlist unfolded with the familiarity of a worn-in pair of jeans or a favourite film: more than one million tickets were sold to the Australian leg of this tour, which began in 2019; this last lap around the world has occupied the past five years of his life, including a pandemic pause.
Most in attendance would have known in advance that the show would start with Bennie and the Jets and end with Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Rather than rob the night of suspense, though, this aspect added a curious top note of urgency to an absorbing concert undeniably driven by the frontman but followed with loyalty and precision by his fellow players, who were directed by guitarist Davey Johnstone.
The hits were in abundance, and the decision to air two titanic numbers – Tiny Dancer and Rocket Man – within the opening bracket retained its breathtaking power. It spoke to the depth and quality of his songwriting catalogue that these could please the masses early, and still be followed by two hours of radio standards.
After the latter song, about 45 minutes in, John rose from his instrument, walked to the lip of the stage and took in an extended applause break. With the house lights up, we could see that every seat was filled, all the way to the top row. This was already a superlative show in an arena, but a stadium is where it belonged, especially for the finale.
Perfectly mixed so that each instrument could be heard at all times, the biggest surprise arrived as the first song of the encore, when John sat and watched us while the PA boomed out Cold Heart, a recent chart-topper remixed by his “Australian buddies” Pnau, the Sydney dance trio. “It feels so good to have a No.1 around the world at 75,” John noted with undisguised glee.
It was essentially a karaoke moment, with the full-throated crowd accompanying Dua Lipa’s vocals in the chorus, but a beautiful one shot through with his entire history as a recording artist. At any other show this may have come across as naff; here, it was an emotional celebration for the man at the piano, whose contribution to popular culture looms large.
“Tonight is the 278th show of this tour,” said John before the final song. “Tonight is my 232nd show in Australia, and my last. It’s been an amazing experience coming here since 1971. Thank you for your loyalty, kindness and support, for buying the records, and tickets, because I love playing live. But this is it for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with my family, and making records. You are a most incredible country. Be safe, and be kind to each other. I wish you all health, happiness and prosperity. Goodnight and farewell.”
The final glimpse we got of this great artist was of him ascending on a motorised lift, waving and smiling as he was pulled toward the back of the stage, before the follow-spot was clicked off and he disappeared from our sight.
The pure finality of this spectacle was inspiring. How often does any of us know with certainty we are doing something for the last time? Nights like this one quicken the heart and jolt us awake. All we have is today, and we will all walk that yellow brick road, hoping to extend our strides as long as we can, outpacing the inevitable … A peculiar and grim rip-tide in which to be caught after a rock ‘n’ roll show, perhaps, but a valuable and not unwelcome one.
Artists come and go in this life. Very few have the songs, the stamina and the hunger to be filling stadiums five decades after their name became globally known and loved. Lit up like a Christmas tree, that stage and everything emanating from it on Saturday night was a reminder to rage, rage against the dying of the light. He’s still standing, and so are we.
More Coverage
