Once again, Sydney was enamoured by Peter Bibby’s yarns

Peter Bibby is a special kind of breed. Although I’ve only recently stumbled upon this delightful corner of Australiana, the Perth-based poet has been cultivating his cul-de-sac inspired balladry for some time.

His 2014 debut Butcher/Hairstylist/Beautician beguiled the masses with a great many ruminations on life and all of its affections and frustrations, delivered raw and unencumbered. Bibby has a beautiful way of telling it like it is.

peter bibby live happy mag dani hansen lansdowne
Photos: Dani Hansen

One can’t help but be enamoured by Peter Bibby’s yarns. If you’re fortunate enough to see him play in some dingy pub (his choice of locale), you’re in for a real treat.

Since then, he’s been touring on and off, and writing his follow up which suffered a few stalls, including label upheavals and a two-month trip across the Nullarbor in his shitty van named Long Paul. But finally Grand Champion was released this September, having eased up on the booze and such but carrying on in the same reliable larrikin way.

I caught him for the first time recently at Sydney’s Lansdowne Hotel and sat beside myself for the entire thing. Arriving at the tail-end of Buddy Dingo’s spot, the tone had been clearly set with his own particular brand of Aussie anecdotes. These guys have played together in the past so it just made sense to see them reunited once again.

Up next was absolutely rocking act The Buoys. The femme four piece rolled in with a hefty amount of fuzz and surf ‘tude which left the room feeling mighty riled before Bibby and his Dog Act ambled on stage and proceeded to work their way through the new album in straight chronological order.

Such a typical Bibby move; the man lives and breathes practicalities. Flitting between sweet, unbridled rock and roll and affectionate banter, it was a sensory feast to watch it all unfold.

Bibby further made chummy interactions with the crowd like every single person in the room was an old friend, calling on one particular front row punter regularly (Damo, the “dreadlock headed fuck”), like he was brewing up another story in real time.

This amazing but all too brief evening was rounded out by a few older numbers at the behest of the crowd, ending on Red XF Falcon which had the entire place in a steaming patriotic uproar. Buddy Dingo and The Buoys stormed the front for the grandiose finale.

Diehard fans were chanting along and spilling the stage. And that night, I became one of them.

peter bibby live happy mag dani hansen lansdowne