Lebanon Hanover and Body Maintenance: a glorious gloomy somber celebration. Words/Pics By Mark J.

LIVE REVIEW: Lebanon Hanover + Body Maintenance

170 Russell, Melbourne — Friday 18 September 2026

Few acts in the current darkwave/coldwave underground carry the weight that Lebanon Hanover do. Over more than a decade, Larissa Iceglass and William Maybelline have built a catalogue that never sits still — pulling minimal synth, post-punk austerity and gothic rock into something that always sounds distinctly theirs. Where a lot of the genre leans on grim nostalgia alone, this pair keep pushing the sound forward release after release, most recently with material that shows no sign of them coasting on past glories. That colourful and dynamic restlessness, paired with a stripped-back two-piece setup that somehow fills a room the way a full band would, is exactly why they've become such a reference point for the scene rather than just another act working within it. Their influence runs well beyond their own output too — you can hear their fingerprints in a new generation of coldwave and post-punk acts internationally, this city's own included, which makes a night like Friday feel less like a gig and more like watching the source material at work.

170 Russell doesn't get talked about enough for how well it's run. Been coming here for years and the staff still operate like a well-oiled machine — sharp, efficient, no bullshit. That matters when the room's about to hold two acts operating at very different frequencies of the same darkness.

Body Maintenance were a complete unknown to me walking in. They've walked out as a new favourite Australian band, full stop. In a scene absolutely drowning in mediocre post-punk right now, this lot are operating on another level entirely. Tight, locked-in, and dropping one classic-sounding tune after another — this is songwriting that only comes from serious studio and stage mileage. The result is instantly catchy in that dark, addictive way that doesn't announce itself, it just sinks in.

The DNA is all there if you go looking — early Cure, The Chameleons, The Sound, Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus, a thread of Joy Division and Echo & the Bunnymen, even flickers of Christian Death, Killing Joke and The Damned. Layer in the distinctly Australian dark alternative lineage — These Immortal Souls, Died Pretty, The Church — and you've got a band drawing from a genuinely strong well of influence without ever sounding derivative of any single one of them.

It's intimately bleak, moody, vivacious and — crucially — catchy. Jangly riffs that never tip into cheese, a rhythm section that sits right up front alongside vocals and synth work that both punch well above their weight. Every track shows the focus and the chops, and there's a confidence to the way they hold the stage that you don't often see from a band this early into building a name — no filler, no wasted movement, just a set built entirely on song strength. A band with a real catalogue behind them (check out their releases; all are absolutely stellar), and one that translates perfectly live. Keep an eye on this lot, because on this showing they won't be a support act for much longer.

Lebanon Hanover were the whole reason for the night, and I'd missed them the last time round, so this one mattered. This is only their second run through Australia, following a debut tour that by all accounts left a real mark on the local scene — and Friday's crowd made it obvious why. This is a city that has taken Larissa Iceglass and William Maybelline to heart in a way that goes beyond a passing trend. There's something in Melbourne's own relationship with grey skies, laneway melancholy and a long-running love affair with post-punk and goth that maps almost perfectly onto what this duo does.

And that's the thing worth sitting with — neither of them is from Berlin, yet the city's fingerprints are all over their sound and image. It's not mimicry, it's kinship. Melbourne has its own version of that same nocturnal, urban grimness, and when a band channels that aesthetic honestly rather than as costume, this city recognises it instantly and claims it as its own. That's exactly what happened here.

They didn't hold back on the set either — deep cuts and fan favourites both got a run: "Gallowdance," "Kiss Me Until My Lips Fall Off," "Come Kali Come," "Alien," "Ice Cave," "Totally Tot," "Saddest Smile" and more. What's remarkable is how much joy and depth two people can generate — programmed elements and synth slot into the guitar and bass work seamlessly, and the perfect dual vocals carry the whole thing with real weight.

Iceglass and Maybelline work as true foils for each other on stage — her voice cold and detached, his slightly warmer and more grounded, and the tension between the two is where a lot of the emotional pull of the set actually lives. More than a decade into doing this, they've clearly refined the show into something that reads as effortless even though the craft underneath it is considerable.

The build across the set was the story — starting subtle and moody, climbing steadily into full underground Berlin goth-club territory. Sombre but as punchy as Bauhaus, as bleak as the darkest Siouxsie and the Banshees moments, all wrapped in a fog of hard beats and morbid electro work. One of the best shows in ages, and a genuinely perfect bill. Lebanon Hanover remain, unquestionably, the king and queen of darkwave/coldwave.