Australia’s stages have always been crowded with talent — and some of the most unforgettable moments have come from bands where the chemistry between female and male members makes the music feel both balanced and electric. These aren’t just reviews. These are snapshots of being there, in the sweat and sound.
Camp Cope – Emotion That Isn’t a Pitch
It was a night at the Corner Hotel in Melbourne, the air heavy and restless before the first note. Georgia Maq stepped up to the mic without warming up the crowd — no small talk, no easing in — just straight into “Jet Fuel Can’t Melt Steel Beams” like it was burning a hole in her chest. Kelly-Dawn leaned back into her bass, eyes half-closed, while Sarah Thompson’s drums punched through the room like a second heartbeat. When Georgia sang “I’ve been seeing other people / And I’ve been seeing myself”, every head seemed to nod — not in time, but in recognition.
The Waifs – Folk Roots with Vocal Strength
A winery in Margaret River, the smell of vines in the air, and The Waifs turned it into a lounge room. Vikki Thorn bounced between harmonica and vocals as if they were the same language, Donna Simpson’s harmonies slipping in perfectly beside her. Josh Cunningham’s dry humour kept everyone grinning between songs. When “London Still” closed the set, the crowd didn’t just sing along — they harmonised back. For a moment, the music seemed to linger above the vines before disappearing into the night.
Moaning Lisa – Canberra Grit with a Grunge Edge
In a dimly lit Fitzroy club, Moaning Lisa turned a short festival slot into a full-on coup. Charlie Versegi’s guitar tore out of the monitors in “Carrie (I Want a Girl)”, Hayley Manwaring grinning wide at the front row. Ellen Chan’s bass was steady, grounding the chaos, while Hayden Fritzlaff’s drums felt like they might rattle the walls apart. By the third song, strangers had their arms around each other, singing along like old friends.
The Clouds – Harmonies That Hover
Sydney, anniversary show — The Clouds stepped up as though no time had passed. Jodi Phillis and Trish Young stood side-by-side, voices weaving in and out like a conversation only they understood. “Hieronymus” rang out, instantly transporting the room back to the early ’90s. There was no showmanship for the sake of it — just two voices carrying years of history on their backs.
Divinyls – Charisma on Edge
One of the last times I saw Chrissy Amphlett was in a cramped, grimy pub, dressed in that notorious school uniform. The crowd pressed forward the moment the opening riff of “Pleasure and Pain” hit. Chrissy’s stare pinned the front row like she was daring them to look away. Mark McEntee’s guitar tangled around her vocals, the tension between them as much a part of the music as the notes themselves.
Hot Machine – The New Wave of Grit
Melbourne EP launch night — Hot Machine didn’t just step on stage, they detonated on it. The riff of “Leather and Steel” had people abandoning their drinks to get closer. The room turned into a tangle of movement and sweat. Banter between songs was quick and cheeky, the kind that says we know exactly what we’re doing. By the finale, half the crowd was on stage dancing, and nobody looked ready to stop.
What ties all these gigs together isn’t just the presence of female players — it’s the feeling that these bands create complete worlds on stage. Whether it’s the tight harmonies of The Clouds, the bare-bones emotional punch of Camp Cope, or the all-out sonic grit of Moaning Lisa and Hot Machine, these are nights that linger.
Because in the end, the magic isn’t about gender — it’s about the moments when the music locks in, the air changes, and you realise you’re part of something you’ll remember long after the amps cool down.
