The way he calls me “Chris the Journalist” always sounded like a slur. And yet that’s what he’s always called me. Since our first interview in 2011, which ran 90 minutes overtime, and we debated whether the demo version of Vibrations in Air is superior to the album version, to the numerous times we have caught up to discuss his art, his life, and the state of the Australian music industry. And I don’t mind, because in 2025, “singer/songwriter” also sounds like a slur.

Why do we treat our man-with-a-guitar acts like garbage in this country? Ben Lee, Alex Lloyd, Bob Evans… the moment they aren’t writing radio hits, we confine them to history, whilst bands are allowed years to grow and evolve. We are obsessed with mediocre rock bands in Australia, and I honestly think that if Josh Pyke had released his music under a moniker like The Pykes...(The Turnpykes actually sounds pretty cool), triple j would have supported him for two decades.

It's a good reminder that a good part of this industry is luck. The Vines had one singular good album and were branded… no shit… the Saviours of Rock - purely because the industry needed one. When does Australia really need an intelligent album of folk songs about love? And make no mistake, whilst he’s pretty handy on the harmonica, has mastered the finger-picking guitar style of his hero Elliott Smith and can triple-track vocal harmonies better than Fleet Foxes, people are sitting here in front of him twenty years later because he’s smarter than the average bear.

Tell me what other Australian musician can use the word ‘soporific’ in a song. Okay, maybe Paul Dempsey. But that’s about it. Pyke has always had that rare ability to write originally, to put his words in an order they haven’t been said before, to make his songs sound truly unique and impactful. Do you know how many love songs there are in pop music? Do you know how many lovelorn songs there are? Do you know how difficult it is to make them sound fresh? Josh has somehow made an entire career out of this party trick. And it’s one worth seeing again and again. Apparently, I am not the only one who thinks so.

It’s one thing to honour the anniversary of an album, it’s another, bit stranger thing gathering to celebrate a mini-album. I’ve never understood why Pyke didn’t wait until he had written three more songs and release Feeding the Wolves as his proper debut album - but it doesn’t seem to matter as the Melbourne Recital Centre is filled to the brim regardless. He tells us that he’s billed the night “Feeding the Wolves and other stories” as he plans to intersperse the night with anecdotes about the songs, what they mean to him and his rise to fame from that first release.

But with his effortless charm and sense of humour so evident, you wonder why he hasn’t made this part of his show earlier. With a video montage opening the night with early career footage, including him extolling the revolutionary virtues of MySpace and the internet, you can tell his self-effacing, cheeky smirk is one of the few things that hasn’t aged. Audience included.

These shows are so commonplace in the industry now that the structure is well-worn: play the album/EP/mini-album we are all celebrating in full and then do a greatest hits set. And this is where Josh shows his generosity. He could have indulged us all in the nostalgia of Feeding the Wolves and then used that second set to plug his newer material. Most artists couldn’t resist this strategic play.

But instead, knowing the age of the average attendee of a 20th anniversary show, Pyke crafted a greatest hits set that brought back deep cuts from his first two albums, like Buttons, Make You Happy, and Sew My Name, to really give the punters the trip down memory lane they were looking for.

That’s not to say all was smooth sailing for our former lighthouse keeper. Supported by his longtime collaborator and multi-instrumentalist Elana Stone on accordion and keys and Zoe Hauptmann on double bass, the new arrangements were a bit all over the shop.

I don’t know what went wrong with the sound mixing, but the bass was everywhere. This is no slight on Zoe’s obvious talent, but all night she oscillated between either dominating the song like it was a Josh Pyke covers night at Dizzy’s Jazz Club or going completely MIA and leaving nothing behind Josh’s acoustic guitar. The fluctuations from song to song were jarring and a constant distraction.

The accordion was also an odd choice. Josh goes to great lengths to explain to us how the band can tune all their instruments to the typical 440Hz, which is the international standard for concert pitch, but because Elana’s accordion is tuned to 442Hz, it makes his harmonica “sound 2% shitter” – which is funny. And interesting. And a cute story. Until he stops telling it and you realise how right he is and how much that bloody accordion completely fucks Memories & Dust and is probably the reason he doesn’t even try to play it on Leeward Side. Which begs the question, why persist with the damn accordion when the people have paid good money to hear your harmonica and guitar in perfect harmony?

It's an odd night. On one hand, what a remarkable songwriter. Perhaps the most underrated and undercelebrated in the country. Listening to him play some of the songs off Feeding the Wolves, like Staring Down The Sun, Goldmines and Fill You In that he has not played in so many years, what hits me the hardest is the maturity in songwriting at such a young age. These are songs most musicians would struggle to write at their creative peak. And Pyke was just an ex-punk kid still living with his parents and trying to save up enough money for studio time.

And his best work is unimpeachable. The three release run from Feeding The Wolves, to Memories & Dust, to Chimney’s Afire is a hot streak very few in this country have matched, and I feel he never got his flowers, as people were too busy in 2008 listening to that one good song Empire of the Sun released.

Don’t get me wrong, the guy is famous. As he regaled us with stories from slimy British music agents telling him that he could be the next Coldplay, it’s obvious we weren’t the only ones who noticed his prodigious talent. And he has carved out a wonderful career touring with various orchestras and has played almost every venue there is to play from coast to coast. But he still deserves more.

His best songs are pound for pound as good as any in Paul Kelly’s discography. I’m sorry, they are. We have immortalised that beautiful bald man in the last twenty years because too many Aussie men have daddy issues, whilst this generation’s Paul Kelly is right here in front of us. That’s not a fuck you to poor Paul; he’s collateral damage here as I die on this strange hill. I am certain that Josh Pyke is one of the most talented musicians Australia has produced this century, but if I had to prove it in court, I wouldn’t be using this gig as evidence.

Despite a perfect setlist, his natural warmth and wit, as well as songs that are destined to become Australian classics, the night never tied it all together. Sadly, it felt like a rehearsal. Disjointed harmonies. A sound mix that never found balance and some baffling arrangement choices (more harmonica!) meant that it was also a good reminder that even after twenty years, we are all still learning. Including Chris, the journalist.