Live Review: Troye Sivan @ Sidney Myer Music Bowl, Melbourne

Having just performed a full clean-up at the ARIA Awards with Album of the Year, Best Solo Artist, and Best Pop Release for his latest instalment, Something To Give Each Other, Aussie pop sweetheart Troye Sivan is currently in high demand. Bringing his show to Melbourne, the superstar aims to provide a night of flavourful fun.

Younger brother Tyde Levi and Sydney-based indie star Nick Ward have tagged along to get a crowd buzzed and ready to feel the rush! Both artists blend dreamy, almost lo-fi melodies with syncopated drumbeats and a guitar thrown in for good measure. All Your Life by Nick Ward is a highlight, and Tyde shines on the Ruel-sounding Open Up My Mind. 

Anticipation builds amongst a crowd packed tighter than sardines wearing assless chaps. “TROYE” lights up the screen behind the stage as the tempo suddenly builds and builds with intrigue as seven sturdy men walk out onto stage, moving with the beat as the self-proclaimed twink sashays onto stage starting, with the Shooting Stars sampled Got Me Started. “Melbourne, let me hear you fucking scream!” beckons the Grammy nominee before enacting microphone fellatio on one of the dancers.

Without a moment to breathe, things are taken up a gear on the euro dance punch of What’s The Time Where You Are? where an exhausted Troye throws it to the crowd to finish as he catches his breath from an amazingly complex dance breakdown. My My My is next, with its confident swagger and seductive melody compelling the dancers to swerve and curve and strike a pose.

A giant bed is wheeled out onto the centre of the stage as the tracks take a more chilled tone on In My Room as the crowd is taken literally inside his bedroom. “Shout out to this twink who knows every single word,” he exclaims, receiving wild screams and laughter. 

“Alright, Melbourne, you fucking maniacs, let me hear you fucking scream,” he beckons.

As a DNB blitz explodes on Rager Teenager, Troye and his boys are pounding the floor before he’s lifted high into the sky on the shoulders of his crew. “This one’s for the gay people,” Sivan teases. It’s the salaciously penned title track Bloom off his second LP.

Troye saunters and flicks around the stage to the juicy bubble-gum pop banger before diving into Can’t Go Back, a sombre Lo-fi build with an interlaid vocoder mourning, “Can’t go back baby,” against a blinking purple and blue screen. “Are there any blue neighbourhood girlies here,” Troye teases, setting off the Broods collab EASE.

A woman appears on screen as the sound of stilettos clacks against tiles. The temptress picks up the phone as it rings to reveal that this sultry character is, in fact, Troye himself in outrageously convincing drag. The screen lifts, revealing Troye in a corset straddling a chair. One Of Your Girls is as rambunctious as it is raunchy, and the crowd is eating out of the superstar’s palm as he eats out of his dancers. “This shit won album of the fucking year,” he proclaims. 

“I party here; I know how fucking feral you can get,” the exhilarating Silly blares through the speakers, leading to an adrenaline rush as the dancer’s body parts are burnt onto the screen and the crowd’s retinas at a supersonic speed between a seizure-inducing light show that transitions to club-ready hit You.

It’s a European nightclub brought to you on a Thursday night packed with sweaty men and red lighting. Troye questions his masculinity on STUD whilst feeling up men and throwing himself into a seductively enriching dance break props to the choreographer working overtime on this performance.

Queen of Brat Charli XCX gets a shout-out on the duo's collabs 1999 and Talk Talk (Remix) in a thumping club rendition with an extreme BPM. It’s a sweaty rave of hits culminating in a messy Thursday night on the hills of Melbourne and a crowd practically begging for more. 

“Sorry that took so long; I was doing a tequila shot backstage,” the rowdy boy jests before toying with the camera on Honey, a glittery electronic tune wrapped in a sort of longing and nostalgia. A pounding drum erupts through the music bowl, signalling the final track. It’s the viral smash hit Rush.

“I feel the rush,” he roars, and boy, you certainly can; there’s a definite high in the air as patrons transform into pogo sticks. It’s hard-hitting and punchy with a not-so-subtle suggestive wink that sees a dozen shirtless, sweaty boys titillate the camera before revealing Troye, giving a passionate smooch to a mystery heartthrob. 

It is high camp, high art, as Troye and the dancers contort and synchronise with the beat, creating suggestive shapes in symmetry. It is a wonderful display, though with a short run time and more time spent pointing the microphone out into the crowd or chatting up the audience, it does leave a little to be desired in terms of a concert experience. The hits are there, and the dancers are phenomenal, never missing a beat and moving like a well-oiled machine. It just felt like perhaps Troye was somewhat disconnected. The boy from the Blue Neighbourhood is now larger than life and coming to a city near you.