There’s something absolutely special about ending a tour with a hometown show and on the 12th of April, Slowly Slowly made sure that not a single soul left Margaret Court Arena without feeling exactly that, from playing intimate clubs to becoming and maturing into a genre defying powerhouse and filling one of Melbourne’s premier venues, equipt with Grit, heart and unmistakable passion and power for each of their songs vocalist Ben Stewart always delivers an emotional performance every single damn time pouring everything he has into their live shows and music.
Grayscale:
There's something quietly powerful about walking into a venue before sunset and feeling the music hit you harder than the lights ever could. That’s exactly what happened when Grayscale stepped onto the stage at Margaret Court Arena, opening for Slowly Slowlys biggest headline show to date with no frills, no pyrotechnics, just the Philadelphia quintet doing what few opening bands can manage. They connected, deeply and instantly.
It’s not easy being first up on a bill this big- Especially while being on the other side of the world, yet as the first chords of ‘’The Hart’’ echoed through the arena, the chatter of the early crowd settled. You could sense a shift in the atmosphere, a communal pause, a recognition that something amazing was unfolding.
Colin Walsh Grayscale’s frontman, doesn't command a room with bravado or theatrics, instead he has this way of drawing you In with precision, his delivery was restrained but has purpose, during ‘’Kept Me Alive’’ he sang with this kind of quiet intensity, that can sometimes be more disarming than a scream. Pairing that with the instrumentals and rhythms from the other band members Dallas Molster, Andrew Kyne, Nick Ventimiglia, and Nick Veno this band has the perfect balance between atmospheric and immediate.
They didn't need to be flashy, their set worked not because it wasn't loud or elaborate but because it was honest. In a city half a world from home, they created a 30 minute sanctuary for anyone willing to step inside. In the grand arc of the night Slowly Slowly may have been the hometown heroes for the night but Grayscale laid the emotional groundwork for the night, they didn't warm the stage, they SEASONED it!
Honey Revenge:
If Grayscale brought the calm before the storm, Honey Revenge brought the chaos! But the good kind, the kind that kicks down the door in platform boots and glitter eyeliner shouting ‘’We’re here’’ with a wink and sneer. As the second band on the bill at Margaret Court Arena, the Los Angeles based duo didn't just follow up a thoughtful opener, they detonated the rooms energy.
From the moment they walked out, you could feel a gear shift. Where Grayscale were inward and measured, Honey Revenge was pure extrovert energy. But don’t mistake that for shallow flash — beneath their upbeat polish is a real understanding of song-craft, showmanship, and how to hold a room that’s still settling into its night.
Devin Papadol, the band’s magnetic vocalist and frontwoman, didn’t just command attention — she made it impossible to look away. Her presence was sharp, playful, and fully in control. Whether bouncing around the stage during “Airhead” or locking eyes with someone in the front row mid-verse, she embodied the kind of confidence that feels earned, not performed.But it wasn’t just Devin — Donny Lloyd on guitar brought a slick, driving energy that made each track crackle. Their chemistry was obvious, not in choreographed synchronicity, but in the way they played off each other naturally. Honey Revenge didn’t feel like they were acting in a show — they felt like they were living one.
Their set was a tight, vibrant blast through their 2023 album Retrovision and more recent singles, each track hitting with clarity and crunch. “Worst Apology” had the kind of chorus that makes people start singing it by the second time around, even if they’ve never heard it before. “Sensitive” followed with a funk-pop bounce that had pockets of the crowd dancing, not because they were told to, but because the music made it feel like the only reasonable option.
Slowly Slowly:
There are good shows, there are great shows — and then there are the ones that feel like they’re carved into your memory before the final chorus even ends. Slowly Slowly’s headline performance at Margaret Court Arena was exactly that. Not just a concert, but a moment. A culmination. A big, beating-heart celebration of everything the band has become — and everything they still are.This wasn’t a band simply playing a bigger stage. This was a band who had earned their place there, and knew exactly what it meant — not just to them, but to everyone watching. From the opening notes of “Blueprint,” it was clear: this night was going to be personal.
Ben Stewart, always a compelling frontman, walked onstage with a mix of awe and purpose. You could see it in his face — the flicker of disbelief, quickly buried under the instinct to give every part of himself to the music. And give it he did. His vocals throughout the set weren’t perfect in the clinical sense — they were better. They were human. Raw, cracked, emotionally exposed. You got the feeling he wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He was trying to connect.
Oh and the audience? They met him halfway, and then some.Songs like “God” and “Nothing On” weren’t just performed — they were felt, shouted back in unison by thousands of people who knew every word, every syllable. It’s one thing to write songs people love. It’s another to write songs people feel ownership of. Slowly Slowly has somehow become that kind of band — intimate, even in an arena. And then, of course, the catharsis. “Jellyfish.” “Low.” “Race Car Blues.” These songs weren’t just encore material — they were release valves. Joy and pain and pride and nostalgia all boiling over in one final eruption of crowd energy. You could feel the floor shake. It wasn’t just the music — it was the collective sense of being part of something that mattered.
Instrumentally, the band was tight but unpretentious. There were no flashy solos or ego-tripping breakdowns. Patrick Murphy, Albert Doan, and Alex Quayle were locked in, playing with the kind of cohesion that only comes from years of friendship and shared vision. They weren’t there to perform for the crowd — they were there to play with them.
All in all the night was a powerhouse from start to finish, this is a concert that I will forever keep in my heart.
