On a cold-to-the-bone stormy Saturday in July, fans of The Neighbourhood leapt over overflowing gutters in their platform boots, shielded their smokey-eyes from the rain under their uniform boxy pleather jackets as they hustled into Margaret Court Arena for the band's second show in Melbourne for their World Tour.

Right upon entering the floor I had no doubt these fans had done their time with the band. You could tell from the giddy atmosphere that many of the attendees were there for the Neighbourhood’s major early successes that soundtracked the glory days of the black and white filtered Instagram posting crowd on Tumblr back in the day, or at least have been introduced to the band's music with the recent boom in 2010s nostalgia online. 

As a peripheral fan during these years, I was definitely inclined to monitor the longevity of their music catalogue at least amongst a setlist dipping into corners of their entire discography, for an audience I had assumed were more partial to their hey-day, either because they were loyal fans back then, or the sounds now invoke fond memories of a “simpler” time.

The show opens with a meditative introduction from a disembodied voice, who explains they will be guiding us through the experience. A large screen captions her words and an orange aura pulses the frame.

“Hello. Can you hear me?” 

The audience erupts in cheers.

“Okay, that's good. I’m Iris. I’ll be watching over you tonight.” 

After some more gentle words from Iris, the band embarks on the stage to a thunderous energy from the venue, frontman Jesse Rutherford casually drifts to the microphones and starts the setlist with their dreamy-pop track “Hula Girl”, the first track from the band’s most recent album (((((ultraSOUND))))) (2025). The song is sweet, catchy and contains The Neighbourhood’s classic lyrical conventions: describing a girl and asking her to do things to them. This time, a plastic dashboard hula girl, “hula girl go ahead hunny, treat me like your crash test dummy.” 

The editions to the setlist from their newest record, such as “OMG”, “Zombie”, “Lovebomb” and the dreamy synth track “Planet” (which they appropriately play in front of a hypnotising visual of a glowing earth spinning behind them), do seamlessly blend into the indie pop sound they became famous for in their early albums I Love You. (2013) and Wiped Out (2015). 

The real noticeable deviations to the untrained ear contain the singles and most streamed tracks from their 2020 album Chip Chrome & the Mono-Tones, their foray into electro-funk and attempt at a Ziggy Stardust esc concept album in reply to “social media”, wherein Rutherford is depicted in the music videos from this era painted head to toe in silver, very a la Goldfinger. Now in 2026, the band's sound seems to have dipped a little from their last experimentation back to ye old reliable, their fans don't seem mad about it at all, they sing the new songs with enthusiastic fervor, though admittedly not as emotionally charged as the massive hits like “Daddy Issues” or “R.I.P. 2 My Youth”, but I assume with time they could marinate. 

“It’s the perfect album for them” a young fan in the crowd gushes to a friend who asked about their newest release, which perhaps sums up the fans' reception to the bands work now which seems to exist within a winning formula. They enjoy the perpetual feedback loop of The Neighbourhood's older music sonically informing the new, an ouroboros Rutherford’s ever sweet, clear voice and moody back tracking. 

Iris keeps the audience company between songs, sometimes with disclaimers like, “we are now entering the ballad section of the evening, if you aren't trying to get emo now is the perfect time for bathroom break” or by repeating “I love you” a few times in the quieter musical transitions between tracks. The robotic voice is quite a sterile addition to the show given the more blasé approach the band members have to being on the stage. Especially Rutherford, who plays bongos sporadically during one of their standout singles—the guitar-driven and groovy “Devil's Advocate”—and ring toss with his tambourine on every mic stand in sight, or at the end of songs he just throws it as high as he can and tries to catch it. 

While I have no grudge against Iris (she's just doing her job after all) the more organic transitions throughout the setlist were much more memorable. Like the drawn out atmospheric outro in “Baby Came Home 2/Valentines” leaving the crowd in suspense of what was to come in next, the screen behind the band began to fade in visuals of rolling waves making the audience break out in excited squealing, taking this as a clue for the beloved “The Beach”.

A wonderful moment to highlight as well, the first beats of “Sweater Weather” (their most streamed song, the third most streamed song on Spotify as of 2026 and an absolute anthem in mid 2010s indie culture) played towards the end of the night and the crowd fully took control. They sang the entire first verse as Rutherford stood back to listen and joined in only at the pre-chorus. I have never heard a crowd that clearly. 

I can’t believe I'm writing this, but until the band started to play the first few bars of the final song of the night, I had genuinely forgotten about “Softcore”, the synthy alternative pop track from their self-titled album which still remains amongst their most streamed and cherished. Not only from being a standout from their third album, but also thanks to some good old fashioned Tiktok virality flaring up around 2022. The crowd was more than satisfied with this finale—all rhythmic drums and hazy guitar—being the choice to play out the night. 

The Neighbourhood knows how to keep a good thing going. Who couldn’t truly balk at some heartwarming/wrenching music both old and new played with all the enthusiasm and carefree verve we remember feeling when we first heard them?