For a quarter-century, Blues on Broadbeach has turned the Gold Coast into one of the Southern Hemisphere’s great free music pilgrimages — four days where surf meets soul, street corners become stages, and blues, roots, funk and rock’n’roll spill out across Broadbeach.
What began as a local celebration has grown into an institution, drawing hundreds of thousands across its history and building a reputation as a festival where legends, lifers, and future greats share the same sun-drenched bill.
From May 14th–17th, the festival marks its 25th anniversary with one of its strongest lineups yet, headlined by The Teskey Brothers, with appearances from Ruthie Foster, Ian Moss, Emma Donovan, The Bamboos, Robert Finley and a stacked cross-section of Australian favourites including Lachy Doley, Hussy Hicks, Mason Rack and Karl S. Williams.
For a festival that has always blurred the line between international showcase and community gathering, the anniversary bill feels less like a retrospective than a living snapshot of what has made Blues on Broadbeach endure.
That sense of history runs through the stories of the artists who’ve grown alongside it.
For some, the festival was a launching pad; for others, a hometown proving ground, a family reunion, or the setting for those rare “pinch me” moments that stay with you for decades.
Ahead of this year’s milestone edition, artists with deep ties to Blues on Broadbeach looked back on the performances, serendipitous encounters and career-shaping memories that made the festival more than just another stop on the circuit.
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Full lineup and ticketing info can be found at the official Blues on Broadbeach website.
Hussy Hicks
I think the highlight for us was probably the 2019 edition. We had played a few BOB’s by then, but it was our first chance at an evening slot on the main stage. It’s always a bit terrifying looking out on such a big space and wondering if anyone will come. We were lucky that night and it seemed the crowd were all about seeing what this local band could do on the big stage. The street went from pretty empty to pretty packed in the time it took us to get plugged in. It was a great feeling looking out at a sea of faces with so many of them familiar from years of Gold Coast life and gigging, the sound was great and we had a ball — looking around at the band and seeing that massive video screen behind us certainly added to the good vibes. It felt like a bit of a coming-of-age or point to prove at home kinda moment.
We’ve been lucky to have had great crowds every time we’ve been back, but that one just hit a bit different. We had to fly to the USA on the following Monday and got the rockstar treatment from the flight hosties who had been at the gig… well, semi rockstar — they could give us the tracksuit and eye masks and drinks and good seats… but not a full upgrade.
Karl S. Williams
Blues on Broadbeach for me always delivers these transportive ‘pinch me’ moments. I find myself looking around and imagining I’m at New Orleans Jazz Festival, or that I’m strolling within the grainy frames of some legendary music documentary. I suppose the feeling is overwhelming gratitude that it’s actually happening right in that moment, in the place where I live instead of half way around the world or in the distant past.
One such moment for me was seeing Jon Cleary and his Absolute Monster Gentlemen just a couple of years ago. Real heavy players carrying that lineage of great New Orleans piano cutting back through my favourites Dr. John and Professor Longhair. I was dancing with a bunch of friends and the whole park was leaning back into the effortless cool… It was magic.
Similarly for effortless cool, I hark back to the great Wiley Reed (RIP.) He was such an icon as a local touchpoint connecting back to the home of the blues, and as a local blues player it was amazing to have someone like him playing the circuit. One of my first Blues on Broadbeach experiences was walking down Surf Parade and seeing Wiley laid way back in his seat playing the keys and singing in the way that you can only do with a lifetime under your belt. There were chairs out in the streets everywhere, the venues were all bursting and people were sitting out on their balconies up high. Once again I felt transported to some imagined version of the French Quarter. It was revelry at the swampy pace of the blues and the atmosphere was jubilant. I had to really take stock in that moment and appreciate that I’m on the Gold Coast, Australia and the blues is alive and beloved.
Lachy Doley
Every time I think about Blues on Broadbeach, I catch myself smiling. There aren’t many festivals in the world that feel like this one does. It’s not just a lineup or a weekend — it’s a proper community. Musicians, crew, punters… it genuinely feels like a family reunion.
I first played there back around 2005, on Hammond with Aussie blues legends Chase The Sun. At the time, I had no idea how much that festival would become part of my life. Over the years it’s been the backdrop to some pretty major moments — meeting my wife Jem there in 2009, and then stepping onto the main stage in 2016 to perform and record what would become one of my most career-defining performances and albums — Lachy Doley Live at Blues On Broadbeach. That was one of those shows you never forget.
Luckily we filmed the show, not really knowing what would come from it. But those videos ended up changing everything. Millions of views, new audiences all over the world, invitations to festivals we’d only dreamed of. That moment opened doors we’re still walking through.
What’s been incredible is the way the festival backed us. We started small — duo sets on street stages in 2012, then trio gigs in pubs and clubs the following year. By 2014 and again in 2016 we’d worked our way onto the main stage. Then in 2017 Lachy Doley and the Horns of Conviction, the powerhouse 11-piece version of the band debuted lighting up the main stage once again.
Honestly, without Blues on Broadbeach taking a chance on us, things could’ve turned out very differently.
Coming back in 2026 feels pretty special — ten years since that famous 2016 show, and 25 years of the festival itself.
Can’t wait to be back.
Mason Rack
Nothing compares to a lasting home town festival. After years of gigging , touring and trying to make an impact, a home town festival is a blessing in every way. People, our people get to see the show we have grown into — greatest moments are these moments — and then the festival grows exponentially and the chances, gifts and experiences also grow. Like playing a show right before Eric Burden and the Animals — an icon entity that shaped by musical endeavour — 30,000 people and we landed a great show only to be blessed enough to then watch Eric Burden “live”… one of many experiences.
Due to Blues on Broadbeach, bringing my 5yr old daughter Evie on stage, her stealing the show — (the) crowd going wild as she salutes the crowd with “rock fingers”. Or seeing my brother at the merch station first time in five years. (Those are) just a few unforgettable moments that come to mind.
Blues on Broadbeach for me is much more than a festival, it’s a cornerstone of my musical existence… Thanks to the directors, organisers, stage hands, sound technicians, volunteers, and the punters.
