Tim Minchin's latest tour is special. In Songs The World Will Never Hear he is deep diving into the undergrowth of his back catalogue, airing compositions written in the 1990s when he was a struggling performer dreaming of playing the Sydney Opera House. It's an eclectic, electrifying, entertaining evening charting the evolution of one of the world's finest musical comedians.
Yes, musical comedian. It's the most workable way of describing Minchin, but it doesn't do him justice. As he says onstage, this gig marks 20 years since his UK breakthrough and as a birthday treat to himself he is not going to try to decide what genre he belongs to any more. Music, comedy, he transcends both.
This felt closer to a rock gig at times though, as he was joined by a five-piece band lending a kick to the upbeat numbers. After a spectacular entrance and an expletive-peppered demand that everyone turn off their phones and be in the moment, footage took us through Minchin's career, from nerdy newbie to arena filler.
It wasn't just the audiences that got bigger, the hair did too. At 49, he still sports a thatch that trails spectacularly down his back. The songs, on the other hand, often exude a trademark intimacy alongside their lyrical dexterity. Peace, for example, was a haunting ballad about finding calm amid modern world madness.
The set shuttled between favourites and early songs rebooted for his album, Tim Minchin Time Machine, out later this month. Minchin has always had fun with contradictions. On Confessions he sang earnestly about believing that women should not be viewed as sex objects then admitted a liking for "boobs" in the chorus. On Canvas Bags to went full posturing rock god while asking people to avoid using plastic carriers when shopping.
Between tunes his preambles were touching and ticklish. Before Lullaby, he explained that the song was written for his first child, but admitted that, let's face it, lullabies rarely send kids to sleep. He has not lost his dark side. His latest single, You Grew On Me, is about love resembling a disease. Yet he is also tender. Introducing Apart Together he talked movingly about his mother's death and how families were split during Covid.
A recurring theme was the notion of connection. Minchin paused stagefront to suggest that whatever AI brings, live performance where fans and artist come together will always thrive. The Abba Voyage producers may disagree, but he made a persuasive point.
And Minchin most definitely connects, whether telling a teen to be nice to his parents or grinning at a spontaneous clapalong to the jauntily infectious Revolting Children from Matilda the Musical. I see lots of shows where standing ovations feel like an obligation. Here everyone was up with the last note still ringing out.
This was no Oasis greatest hits package but there were enough familiar gems to keep his devotees onside, from White Wine In The Sun, an ode to missing his family back in Australia, to I'll Take Lonely Tonight, about his love for his wife Sarah. He has a major sentimental streak, but it never slips into cheesiness.
Mixing comedy and songsmithery is not always easy, but Minchin gets the balance right. Come for the self-deprecating stand-up, stay for the musical virtuosity.
Songs The World Will Never Hear is touring. Tickets and information here.
