Rob Thomas – 19th November 2019 @ Margaret Court Arena, Melbourne VIC
Rob Thomas
Margaret Court Arena, Melbourne VIC
November 19th 2019
Some artists walk on stage and immediately feel familiar. Rob Thomas has that kind of presence: part rock star, part storyteller, part old friend you haven’t seen in years but somehow still know by heart. By the time he stepped into the light at Margaret Court Arena, the crowd was already halfway to standing, voices rising in unison like they’d been waiting all night to meet him there.
From the first song, it was clear this wasn’t going to be a night built on spectacle. It was about connection. The lights were soft, the sound warm and perfectly mixed, and Thomas’s voice, that unmistakable blend of rasp and soul, cut straight through. I Love It and Lonely No More kicked things off, smooth and confident, with the band locked in and the crowd singing like a choir.
There was an ease to the whole thing. Between songs, Thomas cracked jokes, shared stories, and spoke about gratitude in that effortless way that made a 7,000-seat arena feel more like a conversation than a concert. He’s the kind of performer who can pivot from charm to heartbreak without changing tempo, and the setlist mirrored that balance perfectly.
The Matchbox Twenty favourites hit hard. When 3 A.M. started, the crowd sang every line louder than he did. If You’re Gone brought out the lighters and phone lights, that slow, collective sway that only happens when a song has been living in people’s lives for decades. Unwell felt especially poignant, a whole arena quietly confessing their own imperfections together. You could see it in the faces: that shared nostalgia of teenage bedrooms, road trips, and late-night radios.
His solo material slotted seamlessly alongside the classics. Her Diamonds shimmered under soft blue light, his voice breaking just enough on the final chorus to make it feel real. Pieces and Can’t Help Me Now carried that polished, heartfelt energy that defines his solo work: honest, unshowy, but deeply felt.
Midway through the night, Thomas sat at the piano and talked about growing older, about perspective, about the people who’ve stayed with him through all of it. It wasn’t rehearsed. It was just him, open and reflective, the way great performers sometimes let you glimpse the person underneath the polish.
And then came the encore. Smooth arrived like an earthquake, Santana’s legendary groove reimagined for the stage, with the entire crowd turning the chorus into a celebration. People danced in the aisles, laughed, sang, held their phones up high. It was pure joy, the kind that doesn’t feel dated, just familiar in the best way. He closed with This Is How a Heart Breaks, driving and defiant, the perfect full stop to a night that never really sagged.
As the final chord faded, he looked out at the crowd and simply said thank you. Not a big speech, not a bow, just a quiet acknowledgment between artist and audience. And maybe that was the point. Rob Thomas doesn’t chase moments; he lets them happen, trusting the songs to do what they’ve always done: connect, comfort, carry people through.
And with that, the show was over, but the feeling wasn’t. It might not have been the biggest production or the loudest set of the year, but it was one of the most human. Some gigs light up a night; this one left something glowing in its place.