Jimmy Barnes – For the Working Class Man 40th Anniversary tour
With Ian Moss
Reviewed by Jeremy Elwood; photos by Rachel Matthews
The “album anniversary tour” is certainly having a moment. Just last week, The Pogues marked 40 years of Rum, Sodomy and the Lash with three NZ gigs, and KT Tunstall, Fat Freddy’s Drop and Happy Mondays are all hosting long-player birthday parties later in 2026. It’s more than just a new way to sell tickets to returning fans; in the streaming era, it’s a reminder of how albums were once meant to be listened to – in order, and in their entirety.
For the Working Class Man, the second solo album from Jimmy Barnes, is also 40. Released in 1985 with the goal of breaking him into the US market, it didn’t go entirely to plan, failing to break the Billboard top 100. But back home in Australia, it became a bona fide number one, seven-times platinum, smash hit. It peaked at #2 in New Zealand, kept off the top spot by the Dire Straits behemoth Brothers in Arms and Grace Jones with Island Time – and I suspect the majority of this Spark Arena crowd wore out the copies they bought at the time.
In the spirit of celebrating his musical past, Barnes has his own brother in arms open the show. Cold Chisel’s founder and guitarist Ian Moss had a number one album of his own in 1989 with Matchbook, and he draws on both that and Cold Chisel in a hard rocking, at times endearingly imperfect, 50-minute set. He may be playing an arena, but he proudly displays the pub rock attitude that got him here. Tracks like Choirgirl and Tucker’s Daughter do their job, getting the crowd in good voice and setting up a guest appearance from the headliner before, to use the enduring originality of Australian nicknames, “Mossy” hands things over to “Barnesy”.
Jimmy Barnes is a survivor. From the darker moments of his youth to his personal demons at the height of his success, beautifully self-documented in his two memoirs Working Class Boy and Working Class Man, to ongoing health issues culminating in heart surgery in 2023, at one level it’s incredible that Barnes is here at all. The fact that his voice completely retains the raw, gravelly power that makes it arguably the most distinctive in Australian rock, is miraculous. He bellows his way through two hours, still with the piercing scream and those vocals that straddle the line between melody and shouting. Seriously, his vocal cords need to be left to science; how he’s managed to maintain this level of power and projection is a medical marvel.
You may have just picked up that the show lasts two hours, while the original album clocks in at under half that. There are essentially two sets tonight; For the Working Class Man in its entirety (although not in the original track order) and a set-plus-encore covering hits from the rest of his career either side of that release.
The album tracks hold up well, four decades on. From opener I’d Die to Be with You Tonight through the signature Working Class Man, the album plays hard, fast and loud. Some feel surprisingly prescient; Thick Skinned is pure Americana, despite predating that musical boom by nearly 30 years, and Boys Cry Out for War wouldn’t feel out of place on a Black Keys or White Stripes album. In large part, this is thanks to the musicians Barnes has surrounded himself with.
Jimmy Barnes may share a musical brotherhood with Ian Moss, but his touring band are literally family. His wife Jane sings backing vocals, alongside daughter EJ. His son Jackie plays drums, and his elder daughter Mahalia, an acclaimed artist in her own right, makes a couple of superb guest appearances. Mahalia’s husband Ben Rogers is one half of an elite left- and right-handed guitar duo with Danny Spencer…who as far as I can ascertain is not a Barnes relative. Clayton Doley plays keyboards, and then, oddly, there is little or no introduction for the bass player (who I believe to be Micheal Hegerty?) and a third guitarist/second keyboard player. The duelling guitars generally steal the show, only getting briefly overshadowed by the appearance of duelling bagpipes, played by Jane Barnes and the kilted, mysterious “Dougie”.
With the birthday album done, the party continues with a set of solo and Cold Chisel hits, including a series of duets. Mahalia steps up for Too Much Ain’t Enough Love¸ and the Easybeats cover Good Times is a proper family affair, featuring Mahalia, EJ and some slick drum fills from Jackie. Moss returns for the by-now aptly titled Merry-Go-Round. Everyone plays their roles perfectly – during Lay Down Your Guns, the only moment in the entire show where it felt as Barnes might be tiring a little, the backing vocals and guitars were so strong his high notes didn’t matter.
If I had one tiny complaint, it’s that the whole gig was played on one level – Barnes’s dial doesn’t seem to go down below 9, and the band don’t let the intensity drop an iota, until two Cold Chisel classics provide the closest thing to contrast – Flametrees is Barnes at his most melodic, and everyone seems to be having such a good time on Khe Sahn that it almost tips into self-parody.
But look, it’s the last night of the tour, and Barnes has something to prove, never more evidently than on the newest song of the night, 2025’s Defiant. It’s a howl in the face of his own recently glimpsed mortality, a statement that the Working Class Boy is still standing, still screaming, and still here to put on a show. By the time the stage fills with Ian Moss and his entire band for the finale Goodbye (Astrid Goodbye) any doubts about his ability to do that have been beaten into submission.
