Transvision Vamp [Newcastle]

King Street Hotel, Newcastle
15 February 2026

Reviewer and Photographer | Kevin Bull

On a balmy Sunday night at the King Street Hotel in Newcastle, something that felt a little like time travel unfolded. The sold-out crowd – a delighted gaggle of mid-forty-somethings and older, nostalgiac Boomers – packed the venue wall-to-wall, many clutching memories as much as their drinks. When Transvision Vamp hit the stage, it was clear this wasn’t just a gig; it was a reunion with a soundtrack that most of these folks had first heard on cassette or vinyl. For nearly two hours, the band led by the inimitable Wendy James delivered 17 tunes with infectious energy and unabashed joy, leaning heavily into their late ’80s/early ’90s heyday, especially material from Velveteen.

For context, this Australian jaunt marked the band’s first proper tour Down Under in decades – some 30-odd years since they last toured here, an absence that only made the cheers louder and the singalongs fiercer. It was a night where nostalgia met the present, and fans responded as though the years had never passed.

The evening opened with a blast of raw pop-rock fun as Transvision Vamp launched into ‘Trash City’, immediately setting a raucous tone. The crowd, already buzzing from the wait, belted out every word, proving that whether it’s big burly blokes at the barrier or groups of mates in their mid-40s, they still knew these songs inside out. From there, the setlist moved at a brisk pace through classics like ‘Tell That Girl to Shut Up’ (a cheeky cover), ‘I Want Your Love’, and ‘Sister Moon’.

Early on, it was clear how deeply these songs are rooted in this audience’s collective memory. During ‘Pressure Times’ and the velvety power-pop of ‘The Only One’, there was laughter, dancing, and more than a few misty eyes in the crowd. By the time the band hit ‘If Looks Could Kill’, punters were practically singing over the top of Wendy – and why not? Some moments felt more like a community sing-along than a concert.

Half the set was drawn from the band’s Velveteen era – no surprise given its status as arguably their most enduring work. Songs like ‘Born to Be Sold’, ‘Down on You’, ‘Pay the Ghosts’ and the smash ‘Baby I Don’t Care’ (inevitably one of the loudest crowd responses of the night) had arms waving and voices hoarse before intermission. Even the slower or deeper cuts were met with ardent enthusiasm.

James’ stage presence was as magnetic as ever. Thirty-plus years on from the peak of their commercial success – a time when Velveteen hit number one and singles like ‘Landslide of Love’ ruled UK charts – she moved with confidence and a playful wink, clearly enjoying every moment with this devoted audience.

The encore brought out hidden gems and a few surprises. Aside from the beautifully presented ‘The Impression of Normalcy’, James and the band delivered a sultry ‘Bad Valentine’ before closing with the sprawling title track ‘Velveteen’ itself – a fitting cap to an era-celebrating set while giving the crowd one last anthem to shout back at her.

Throughout, the atmosphere was remarkable: you could see childhood friends hugging, partners smiling at shared memories, and a genuine connection between band and crowd that transcended mere nostalgia. There was humour too – Wendy’s charming asides, mischief in her eyes, and the sheer delight as the audience recognised every lyric. It felt like the room was collectively saying, “Yes, we remember this. We love this.”

By the end of the night, it was clear that Transvision Vamp’s return to Australia wasn’t just a tour stop – it was a homecoming party for fans who never stopped loving them. The energy was high, the voices were hoarse, and the smiles were wide as punters spilled back onto King Street, humming choruses that had become part of their own life soundtracks. In a music landscape obsessed with the new and next, tonight was a joyful reminder that sometimes the old favourites are worth celebrating just as loudly. Velveteen, Pop Art and more weren’t just albums in a setlist – they were the stories of a generation who came ready to sing their hearts out and leave with grins as big as the room itself.