'If we don't tour, we don't eat': The Drones return after 10 years

'We never broke up': Aussie rock royalty The Drones return as visceral as ever Sun 9 Aug 2026 at 4:30am When The Drones announced a national tour after a decade of dormancy, demand saw their schedule swiftly balloon from seven shows to more than double that. "It was very heartening," guitarist Dan Luscombe tells Double J's Karen Leng. "We just kept adding dates, like filthy capitalists," he deadpans. The tour follows two surprise Melbourne shows last year that similarly sold out in record speed. "We didn't take any of this for granted. It's very surprising and lovely," says Gareth Liddiard, he of the heavily accented, corrugated-iron singing voice and wrangler of agitated guitar and its seasick spasms. He's also one of our country's most revered songwriters. Shark Fin Blues, where Liddiard wrestles with depression and loss in stormy rock, was voted in a 2009 triple j poll as the greatest Australian song by a vast panel of fellow musicians. The feverish reception to The Drones ending their hiatus is proof their absence has only made hearts fonder for their artful racket. Don't call it a reunion Despite 10 years passing between shows and records, the sense of occasion for band members themselves — who "see each other all the time anyway" — is somewhat low-key. "It wasn't like we stepped into a room for rehearsals for the first time in years," says Luscombe. "We probably had a barbecue the week before." "We never broke up. I guess it's a recommencement." So, why step back in the first place? Practical reasons. Drummer Christian Strybosch and keys player Stevie Hesketh have "families, houses and commitments", explains Luscombe. "We wanted to keep going, and it became obvious those guys were not really in a position to keep touring." Liddiard adds: "We didn't want to lean on anyone really hard and piss anyone off either because we were all getting along." Instead, in 2017, Liddiard and his partner, Drones bassist Fiona Kitschen, formed Tropical F*** Storm alongside drummer Lauren Hammell and multi-instrumentalist Erica Dunn. "It sounds cynical, but it's a financial thing. If we don't tour, we don't eat," he says. Tour, they did, extending their reputation as a must-see live act and augmenting The Drones's experimental edge and satirical lyricism on four acclaimed albums. Meanwhile, Luscombe kept busy playing with other groups, writing film and TV scores and, most significantly, producing records. His credits include widely revered albums from Courtney Barnett, Amyl & The Sniffers and Bad//Dreems. Having spent more time in the producer's chair outside the "occasional" gig, he hasn't "had to summon that intensity for a while". Conversely, he's got a good role model. "It's very hard to watch Gaz on stage and not react. You all get swept up in this very visceral thing. It's very contagious." A feral little band In the mid-2000s, before babies and mortgages, The Drones were a compact, easily uprooted unit that would tour relentlessly. "There was nothing tying us to Australia, except legalities. We could up and go at a moment's notice. And we often did," says Luscombe. The ever-pragmatic Liddiard adds: "We were a feral little band … Doing laps of Europe and the States, we made a living. If we'd stopped, we'd have been broke and homeless." Sponsorship and support slots with fellow cult favourites like Meat Puppets, The Jesus Lizard and Built To Spill "opened cool doors" for the band. Signed to the record label of hip global concert series All Tomorrow's Parties also made for a steady stream of festival offers. Although, the attention and exposure didn't always translate to stable commercial success. Case in point: A "really big booking agent" was dazzled at a Chicago show, telling the band's label people: "It's the best f**king band I've seen for years!" Would he sign on to represent the group? "No, I'm not looking for the best band I've seen in years," Liddiard relays. "So, that's the business. It was hit and miss. "There's more hits than misses, otherwise we would've f***ing given up." Despite the knocks, The Drones's singular, tour-hardened chemistry was its own reward. "We became a very good live band," says Luscombe. "There was a telepathic thing happening on-stage. And the music allowed for that, too. "We always had this room to bend and shape-shift. It was baked in." A distinctive discography The Drones formed in the late 90s before Liddiard relocated from Perth to Melbourne in 2000. Following their scrappy 2002 debut, the second Drones album, Wait Long by the River and the Bodies of your Enemies Will Float By, won the inaugural Australian Music Prize. Their next album was already in the can. In early 2005, while funds were raised to buy back Wait Long By The River … from their original record company, the band decamped to an isolated farm on Tasmania's east coast. After turning down the offer of a cold, tin sheep shed "covered in shit," explains Liddiard, they spied an abandoned mill across the field. "We went, 'How about that?" The result was 2006's Gala Mill, which furnished the band's acclaim, threading gothic folk and the sounds of neighbouring birds and dogs into their garage rock bluster. Despite their beloved standing at home and overseas, the band's repute (outside of dedicated pockets) rarely rose above cult darlings, partly owing to cultural barriers. "Americans struggled with it a lot more than Europeans did," reasons Luscombe. "Americans like crusts off their sandwiches generally. "It's a harder sell. Gaz's accent is thick. They'd struggle with that." Those deterred by Liddiard's gnarled drawl missed out on the treasures of his songwriting. His ferocious delivery and lyrical barbs are never dampened, nor his political and social polemic sugar-coated; he's as adept at reminding us of our nation's violent colonial history as he is confronting contemporary Australia's uglier side. Power-hungry barons of malicious media, the dopey masses that consume it, blinkered lefties, jingoistic righties, even prime ministers — nobody is safe from Liddiard's acerbic pen. As staples like Taman Shud or Jezebel frame it, why take sides when all of them are seemingly rotten? Liddiard's knotty voice wraps like barbed wire around a squall that evolved across six literate, lacerating albums from noisy blues-punk to complex beasts taking influence from classical composer Shostakovich (2013's I See Seaweed) and experimental electronics (2016's Feelin Kinda Free). Coming back and what's next? There's little doubting the band's prized synergy is still there. It's just a matter of getting match fit. "The real challenge is for Chris," says Luscombe. "Getting behind a kit after a while is a whole different beast." Liddiard thinks Strybosch, the "band sport-o" should be fine. As for himself? "It's quite demanding. You make up all these songs when you're in your 20s. Then, you're in your 50s," he chuckles. "You can tell the difference!" This despite having stayed very active with Tropical F*** Storm. "The Drones show will be longer, I have to sing more … 72 lines in a song is pretty tiring, whereas now with TFS, I'll make sure it's 20 lines. So, it's more about pacing." Then there's the tantalising possibility of new music. "We will record something," asserts Luscombe. "We've got too much gear between us. It'd be weird to not use all your equipment [and a] free studio, you know?" Liddiard, who once declared he never wanted to be merely a legacy act, is keen on the idea of a Drones soundtrack. "If there's anyone making a movie out there: band is available." The elephant in the room is whether The Drones and Tropical F*** Storm, who've successfully scratched a Drones-shaped itch, can exist simultaneously? "On the same night!? No way!" Liddiard responds before clarifying. "It's not this or the other, it's just whatever. I always see this as trying to stay interested in it. That's what drives it. Each Drones album [we'd] go, 'Let's do something different!' We don't want to repeat because it's tedious. "We always made sure we had adventures in any way possible. So yeah, as long as there's adventure." The Drones start their Australian tour in Melbourne with four shows before heading to Brisbane, Sydney, Adelaide, Perth, Castlemaine, Archie's Creek, Newcastle and Hobart.