'Vintage Cheese' Causes Chaos on the Coast

Vintage Cheese & The Cheesettes

The debut gig nobody quite saw coming.

If you wandered into the Brighton & Seacliff Yacht Club on Sunday afternoon expecting another cover band playing a few pub classics, you were in for a rude shock.

Within minutes, it was obvious this wasn't going to be one of those days.

Adelaide band 'Vintage Cheese' had been quietly building a cult-like following, promising to play long-forgotten cheesy classics that most bands would be too embarrassed to touch.

The gig had sold out seven weeks before, and by the time the band went on stage, more than 250 people (including those gathered on the outdoor deck) had packed the venue.

Heads turned.

Nobody quite knew what was coming next.

An Elvis-style fanfare thundered through the room with all the grandeur of a Las Vegas residency. For a brief moment, you could almost imagine The King himself was about to appear.

Instead, out walked six middle-aged blokes calling themselves Vintage Cheese, dressed with complete disregard for fashion.

They opened the set with one of the cheesiest songs ever recorded.

Beautiful Sunday. (On a Sunday!)

Ridiculous... yet perfect.

The room smiled back.

This wasn't just a concert.

It was three hours of people forgetting how old they were, letting loose and having a bloody good time.

To be fair, nobody acted their age.

Leading the charge were three glamorous women in sparkly gold dresses known simply as 'The Cheesettes' - Vintage Cheese's own party starters.

They didn't wait for someone else to start dancing.

They were the start.

Carrying oversized glass bowls overflowing with Cheezels, they handed them to complete strangers like edible badges of honour.

Nobody questioned it.

Nobody wanted to.

At the centre of all the mayhem was Pete, the band's showman.

Arms permanently outstretched, long black locks flowing, his shimmery black shirt catching the afternoon sun, and a permanent cheesy grin, he bellowed out each song with the confidence of a seasoned cabaret performer.

He wasn't just singing.

He was inviting everyone into the show.

Then came something most bands can only dream of.

Within the opening eight songs, a huge conga line had formed.

It snaked through the room, onto the balcony and back again as complete strangers placed their hands on the shoulders of the person in front, going wild without a care in the world.

They simply went with it.

One older woman joined the conga line, wine glass still in hand, gently steadied by her two grandsons as they laughed their way around the room together.

Moments like that were happening everywhere.

As if on cue, the weather joined the party.

The overcast morning gave way to a spectacular Adelaide winter afternoon, with sunshine pouring across the yacht club for most of the day.

Then all hell broke loose.

Yellow balloons bounced across the dance floor as a modified cordless leaf blower launched entire toilet rolls high into the air.

Everyone laughed.

Many ducked.

Before long, the dance floor was covered in a tangled web of white paper, with people trying to untangle themselves.

Absolute chaos.

Wonderful chaos.

One of the more unusual sights was how many phones were held high...not just to film the band, but to capture the fun unfolding all around them.

The crowd had become part of the show.

Music became the excuse for connection. Conversations flowed as though everyone had known each other for years. Before long, entire sections of the room were singing together, not because everyone knew every lyric, but because everyone wanted to be part of it.

The dance floor remained packed from the first set to the last.

Nobody wanted the day to end.

For a few hours at least, strangers became friends.

As the gig drew to a close, a stunning winter sunset lit up the sky.

It was the perfect backdrop to an experience that had delivered far more than anyone expected.

Walking out of the club, one thing was obvious.

Vintage Cheese hadn't come to impress the crowd.

They'd come to involve them.

Not in a cool way... Just Fun!

Venus - Crowd Favourite

Brown Eyed Girl - Ska Style

Conga Line Kicks Off….

Country Roads- Classic!

Photography: Kate Needs & Ruth Steer

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Dancing Queens take over the Top Of The Ark as The Flaming Sambucas bring ABBA to life

Flaming Sambucas - I Have A Dream @ Top Of The Ark

REVIEW‍ ‍

Storytelling, spectacular musicianship and a packed dance floor combine for an unforgettable celebration of one of pop music’s greatest catalogues.

Some shows entertain.

Others transport you to another time.

From the moment the house lights dimmed and the opening notes echoed through the Arkaba Hotel, it became clear that ABBA – I Have A Dream by The Flaming Sambucas was much more than a tribute show. It was a heartfelt celebration of the music, memories and magic that have made ABBA one of the world’s most enduring musical acts.

As the audience settled in, anticipation quickly gave way to smiles, singing and dancing. Before long, the dance floor was alive with couples and lifelong ABBA fans who simply couldn’t resist joining in.

More than a concert… a journey through ABBA’s remarkable story

One of the production’s greatest strengths is that it doesn’t simply move from hit to hit.

Guiding the audience throughout the evening, Terry Nicholas effortlessly combines keyboard brilliance, vocals and engaging narration, weaving together the story of ABBA’s extraordinary rise with fascinating anecdotes and historical moments.

Behind the performers, a spectacular LED backdrop displays archival photographs and video footage of the Swedish supergroup, creating a visual journey that perfectly complements the live performance. Rather than simply watching a concert, the audience experiences a celebration of ABBA’s legacy.

Vocals that capture the spirit of ABBA

Bringing Agnetha and Frida to life are Anna Kotlova and Katrina Quigley, whose vocals beautifully recreate the soaring harmonies that helped define ABBA’s unmistakable sound.

Rather than relying on imitation alone, both performers bring warmth, personality and genuine enjoyment to the stage. Their chemistry is infectious, and their interaction with both the audience and each other creates an atmosphere that feels authentic and joyful.

Multiple costume changes add another layer of visual excitement, paying homage to ABBA’s iconic stage style while keeping the production fresh from beginning to end.

A first-class band

Supporting the vocalists is an outstanding live band that delivers every classic with precision and energy.

Guitarist Jamie Kuijpers provides crisp rhythms and melodic solos, while drummer Paul Angas anchors every performance with rock-solid timing and infectious grooves that keep the dance floor moving all night.

Together with Terry Nicholas on keyboards, the musicians recreate the unmistakable ABBA sound while allowing the music to breathe naturally as a live performance rather than simply copying the original recordings.

Production values worthy of the music

The Flaming Sambucas have invested heavily in creating a complete entertainment experience.

Professional lighting, haze effects, multiple LED screens, quality sound and carefully choreographed staging transform the Arkaba into a genuine concert environment.

Adding another layer of energy are dancers Aylish and Shana, whose choreography and vibrant stage presence perfectly complement the music without ever overshadowing it.

The production feels polished, professional and remarkably well paced, with every visual element contributing to the atmosphere.

Where the magic really happens

Perhaps the biggest compliment any live show can receive isn’t found on stage at all.

It’s found on the dance floor.

Throughout the evening, more and more people left their seats to dance, sing and relive memories attached to songs that have stood the test of time. Friends danced together, strangers shared smiles, phones were lifted to capture favourite moments and applause regularly interrupted the performance.

Some memorable moments of a whole new level saw audience members being invited onto the stage, reminding everyone that this isn’t simply a performance to watch - it’s an experience to be part of.

That genuine connection between performers and audience is what elevates ABBA – I Have A Dream beyond many tribute productions.

The Limelight SA verdict

There are tribute bands that recreate the songs.

The Flaming Sambucas recreate the feeling.

With exceptional musicianship, polished vocals, engaging storytelling and production values that rival many theatre productions, ABBA - I Have A Dream captures the joy that has made ABBA’s music timeless for generations.

As the final encore concluded beneath the Arkaba’s mirror ball, the audience were still singing, still dancing and still smiling.

Perhaps that’s the greatest compliment any performer could hope for.

The Flaming Sambucas don’t simply perform ABBA’s music…

They remind us why we fell in love with it in the first place.

★★★★★ 5/5

Performer Credits

Terry Nicholas – Keyboards, vocals & narration

Anna Kotlova – Agnetha

Katrina Quigley – Frida

Jamie Kuijpers – Guitar

Paul Angas – Drums

Aylish – Dancer

Shana – Dancer

See The Flaming Sambucas Live

Loved what you read?

Experience ABBA or Elton John for yourself at one of the band’s upcoming performances.

Upcoming Shows

Private Functions & Corporate Events

Looking for unforgettable live entertainment for your next event?

The Flaming Sambucas perform at theatres, clubs, festivals, corporate functions and private celebrations. 

 Enquire about booking The Flaming Sambucas

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Kitty Flanagan Held Up a Mirror... And We Saw Ourselves

Kitty Flanagan Review

A review of Glad Game at Adelaide Festival Theatre — 16 July 2026

It didn't take long to realise this wasn't just a show about Kitty. It was a show about all of us.

Her observations were so relatable that almost every routine had people thinking, "I know someone exactly like that."

I found myself watching the audience almost as much as I was watching Kitty. The sideways glances between couples said it all. More than once I looked across at my partner and thought, "Yep... that's you." Then the next joke would have me thinking, "Hang on... that's me."

Kitty shared the story of a recent show that had to be stopped three times after audience members suffered separate medical episodes. It became a hilarious warning to the Adelaide audience that, whatever happened that night, they'd better remain upright.

Kitty has a knack for taking something completely ordinary and ending up somewhere completely unexpected. And somehow, it all makes perfect sense.

It all started with Kitty describing a yoga instructor. You know the type. Calm, soothing voice. Every sentence delivered like it might just change your life.

Then the routine took a sharp left turn. An exposed male body part somehow led to Kitty inventing a whole new type of man-bra. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. But by then, we were happy to follow Kitty wherever she wanted to take us.

And let's face it... men need all the support they can get.

Kitty talked about a woman in the street who venomously told her she wasn't funny. Most people would've gone home and sulked. Kitty's response? Follow her home like a stalker.

The genius wasn't where the story ended up... it was how Kitty somehow convinced the audience that her actions were perfectly reasonable. Then she justified the whole thing with three simple words.

"She started it."

Next, Kitty turned her attention to the modern beauty standards so many young women now seem to be chasing.

Kitty contorted her face as she described oversized pouty lips, eyelashes so big they'd almost swallowed the eyebrows, and every exaggerated expression added another layer until she arrived at a conclusion that had the audience in stitches.

It was funny because there was just enough truth in it to make people laugh... and just enough to make them think.

Walking out, I realised I'd laughed at the yoga world, beauty trends, bruised egos and men's anatomy. But what stayed with me wasn't one particular joke. It was the way Kitty kept weaving them back into the show, rewarding the audience for paying attention.

Great observational comedians don't just hold up a mirror...

They know exactly when to hold it up again.

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The Moment He Kicked the Fan… You Knew This Was ‘From the Jam’.

From The Jam @ The Gov 2/7/26

The guitar tech wandered on stage for the final soundcheck. One crunchy strum from a black Rickenbacker echoed around The Gov. My immediate thought? Oh yeah... this is gonna be a big night.

Then the band swaggered on stage and launched into Heat Wave. Seconds later, the cooling fan became the night's first casualty. One song in... it was booted. Game on! (See video.)

Within minutes, I stopped thinking of them as From the Jam. For one night, they simply became... The Jam.

The night was packed with standout moments. An unusually raucous That's Entertainment had the whole room singing every word in unison, Town Called Malice reminded everyone why it's still one of the greatest live songs ever written, while The Eton Rifles delivered all the swagger, punch and attitude that made it a Jam classic.

Every chord had that crunchy, aggressive edge that became The Jam's trademark. There are guitar sounds... and then there's the unmistakable snarl of a cranked Rickenbacker. Likeable frontman Russell Hastings attacked every song with loud, raw, unapologetic energy, his guitar cutting through the room with all the subtlety of a chainsaw in a library.

Standing in for Bruce Foxton is no easy task, but Gary Simons nailed that deep, throaty 'Foxton growl', his bass sitting perfectly beneath Russell's guitar. Meanwhile, drummer Mike Randon's silver sparkle Ludwig kit looked almost understated—right up until the kick drum punched you square in the chest.

Fun fact: the bass drum-mounted cowbell even had its own microphone... because let's face it, you can never have enough cowbell.

There was also a genuine warmth throughout the night. Between songs—and again after the gig—the band spoke fondly of Bruce Foxton, acknowledging how much he'd have loved to be on stage doing what he does best. It never felt forced or sentimental—just sincere. Anyone who's met Bruce knows he's one of the genuine good guys in the music industry, making those tributes even more meaningful. Bruce may not have been on stage, but he still put his stamp on the night.

After a generous five-song encore, the band left the stage and the instruments finally fell silent. But the night wasn't quite over. In a classy touch, they returned to the front of the stage for an impromptu meet and greet, happily chatting, shaking hands and posing for photos with fans. The music had stopped. My ringing ears, however, clearly hadn't received the memo.