Riding on the success of their ‘festival within a festival’ live set at Splendour in the Grass earlier this year, it was only natural for Canberra-siders Peking Duk to embark on a national tour of similar crowd-pleasing proportions. So began a month-long clubbing onslaught that would end on the other side of the country, shirts off, tits out and fans peaking.
The second-last show of the 99 per cent sold-out Peace, Love & Sweatiness tour hit Villa Nightclub on Saturday, with Perth homegrown talents Tina Says and Time Pilot opening the night while the numbers streamed in. As it edged closer to 1 am, Melbourner Yeo took to the stage donning a synthesizer and a microphone. The DJ emitted one hell of a good vibe, which had everyone from the alternative beanie wearers to the Bob Marley lovers swaying.
Despite performing some ridiculously catchy beats that had all three tiers of Villa packed, it was clear the audience was hanging out for the main act, with one disrespectful punter throwing a glass on the stage during Yeo’s set – bad form, if I do say so myself.
LDRU pumped the crowd up with his remix of Broods’ Bridges, had them dropping to Ball So Hard, and played some older tracks that had ’80s and ’90s kids feeling the love.
By this time it was getting reasonably harder to move, with every inch of Villa crawling with Duk enthusiasts.
Insert a cosmic beam of light that filled the entire dance floor – the Dawn of Man blasted through the sound system – as the Duks made their dramatic entrance. The boys’ versions of Hey! Ho! Let’s Go and Shout! got everyone ready for an erratic set featuring heavy drops and Beyonce’s Crazy In Love, Outkast’s Hey Ya! and Drake’s Started From the Bottom, while sound grabs from the The Lion King (wimoweh, wimoweh, wimoweh, wimoweh) melded throughout.
It wouldn’t be a Peking Duk gig without a few guests, so it was no surprise the Duks came with a cavalry of friends. Along with Yeo and LDRU, secret weapon Culture, dressed in bright white high-waisted jeans and one boobalicious bralette, joined the boys for an energy-injected rendition of Feels Like.
It escalated from there, with Adam, wielding a cordless microphone, proclaiming that the security guards would kick out anyone who didn’t take their shirts off, before getting down on one knee and proposing to one of the high vis staff members in the middle of the stage.
By the final song – no other than the Double Platinum record High – everyone was on everyone else’s shoulders, tops were off and bras were flying. With the power to make grown girls undress, Peking Duk’s live show was the perfect end to one jam-packed tour, and a staunch reminder that Peking Duk not only tastes good, but sounds even better.