Live Review: Paul Kelly, Steve Earle, Middle Kids

The sun is setting over Riverstage as Sydney indie rockers Middle Kids warm up proceedings, a rose hue cast over the vista as early-comers take up prime vantage spots for the evening ahead. A small-but-devoted crew gather at the very front of the stage to devour the opener's catchy fare from up close, then there's a big gap of concrete to where the bulk of people take their spots on the huge hill, the youngsters' bringing their brief set to a satisfying conclusion as the hazy pop of Edge Of Town builds to a massive crescendo before the urgently catchy Never Start brings it all home.

Soon enough the unmistakable figure of Texas-raised outlaw country icon Steve Earle ambles into view - his untamed grey beard seemingly wilder than ever, the singer sporting a single red poppy on his black vest in recognition of Remembrance Day - and he grabs his acoustic guitar and opens with all guns blazing by kicking off with his '80s smash Copperhead Road. "Well, that's fuckin' sorted!" Earle chuckles at the hit's conclusion, as he embarks on an incredible one-man voyage through his long and decorated career. Tracks like The Devil's Right Hand, Someday and Guitar Town drip with hard-earned wisdom from a life well-lived, while the heartfelt Now She's Gone and the profound Goodbye's All We've Got Left bring poignancy (almost pathos in places) to proceedings. It's not an easy task holding a huge crowd with just voice, guitar and harmonica, but Earle pulls it off with consummate ease; even a triumvirate of brand new songs - So You Wanna Be An Outlaw, Lookin' For A Woman and The Firebreak Line - getting a warm response from the growing crowd. It's as if Earle and tonight's headliner have lived parallel careers on opposite sides of the planet for decades, the unlikely union proving a masterstroke as Earle closes with the world-weary Tom Ames' Prayer and the ever-jaunty The Galway Girl, raising his fist in triumphant salute as he disappears back into the backstage recess.

Tonight Paul Kelly and his accomplished band are introducing his brand new album Life Is Fine - incredibly, after 40-odd years and over 20 albums, his first-ever collection to top the Australian charts - and they open the night by playing the record in its entirety. Not many albums are strong enough to be played start-to-finish like this and hold attention (although this gang pulled it off a decade ago when touring Kelly's Stolen Apples), but this one goes down a treat, with Rising Moon, Finally Something Good and Firewood And Candles proving the perfect opening salvo. The Bull sisters are in incredible voice from the outset, Vika pouring so much drama into My Man's Got A Cold despite the seemingly innocuous subject matter, before they grab maracas and a cowbell to add extra percussion to the punchy Rock Out On The Sea. The gentle lilt of Letter In The Rain transfers wonderfully to the live realm - as does the sprightly Josephina and the beautifully wistful Petrichor - and this opening gambit finishes with Kelly in solo acoustic mode, his voice soaring as he belts out the album's title track into the delighted darkness.

The crowd has happily come with him on this first stage, but as Paul's nephew - and long-time musical companion on guitar - Dan Kelly returns to start tackling his uncle's immense back catalog the mood lifts noticeably, the evergreen From St Kilda To Kings Cross prompting huge and fitting crowd harmonising having long ago ingrained itself in the national psyche. "You guys are sounding good tonight!" Kelly beams as his extended band return to take their respective positions, the light rain that is now falling becoming suddenly appropriate as they embark on "a rain trilogy" comprising Midnight Rain, Love Never Runs On Time and the perennially popular To Her Door. We go from the recent past to the distant history as Kelly dusts off Shakespeare's Sonnet 60 - from recent historical excursion Seven Sonnets And A Song - before we jump back to relatively contemporary times with the ageless Careless, keyboardist Cameron Bruce now taking the baton of the song's falsetto parts that Dan Kelly held with distinction for so long. Towards the back of stage the veteran rhythm section of Bill McDonald (bass) and Peter Luscombe (drums) hold things down unobtrusively, but with purpose and panache as hits like Before Too Long and Deeper Water inspire more crowd vocals and the staple Dumb Things gets the whole hill dancing.

You can't help but notice and take great solace from the diversity of the crowd - this timeless music clearly striking a chord across generations, with entire families gathered en masse and connecting over this shared musical bond - and the bangers just keep coming, with the Bull sisters dancing up a storm during Sweet Guy and the whole hill losing their collective shit for Christmas fave How To Make Gravy. It's hard to imagine things getting any better from here, until Steve Earle re-emerges and the pair pay homage to the late, great Tom Petty (and some of his equally well-credentialed friends) by tearing through a killer joint rendition of Traveling Wilburys' late-'80s standard Handle With Care to finish the set proper. The whole band (and their guest) gather in a line at front of stage to link arms and soak up the rapturous response, collectively beaming as they file off stage for some brief respite.

We know there's more to come because Kelly senior already spilled the beans that they'd be playing right up until the 10pm curfew and we still have half an hour to go until that deadline arrives, and just when you thought that things couldn't get any more Aussie the singer and his nephew return and ease into cricket anthem Bradman - Dan off slightly in the shadows as the twin spotlights hone down on Paul - the pair paying educational homage to probably our greatest ever sportsman. There's still so many great songs left in the kitbag as the full band return for the touching When I First Met Your Ma and the classic Look So Fine Feel So Low, the indefatigable Kelly rocking out on the drum riser as if the night's just starting as they finish for a second time with a rousing rendition of Darling It Hurts. There's just enough time left in the kitty for Kelly and his crew to soak up one more heroes' welcome as they return for the unifying brilliance of Kev Carmody co-write From Little Things Big Things Grow, the track one part sociopolitical treatise on the Indigenous plight and one part killer singalong revelry. All in all it's an incredibly uplifting experience, one that makes you marvel at how fortunate we are to be Australian and have unfettered access to and understanding of this incredible body of music: long may this Kelly gang prosper.