His lead role in Jesus Christ Superstar inspired Michael Paynter’s latest project – a national solo tour of great Australian songs.

Michael Paynter has spent the better part of the past decade standing just off-centre stage – close enough to the fire to feel the heat, skilled enough to be indispensable, humble enough not to make it about himself.
He has been the guy behind the guy – singing with Jimmy Barnes, anchoring the modern incarnation of Icehouse, stepping seamlessly into lead Jesus Christ Superstar to somehow make a role people think they know feel freshly human.
But now, after years of service to the great Australian songbook, Paynter is stepping out from the wings and into the concert spotlight — not to promote new originals but to sing the songs that shaped him. His Great Australian Songbook Tour 2026 begins in Perth on February 8 and plays Adelaide March 4, the Gold Coast March 20, Brisbane May 2 (sold out) and 3, and plenty of other locations, winding up in Tassie in July.
“’I have had the honour of being employed by some of these great Australian artists,” Paynter says. “And I’ve spent the last 15 years of my life being a session guy and a songwriter and a music producer. It has been a long time since I’ve put my name on the poster and stuck my proverbial neck out. But Jesus Christ Superstar reminded me of how much I love singing. It reminded me that this is what I need to be doing. Whatever spirit there is out there reminded me, ‘This is what you’re born to do’.”
That production of Superstar – raw, physical, emotionally punishing – became a kind of reset. Eight shows a week. No hiding. No phoning it in.
“It’s like having a newborn,” Paynter laughs. “Your entire life revolves around it. Sleep when you can. Don’t go out. Everything builds toward that moment on stage.”
What followed was clarity. If not now, when? If not me, who?

The result is The Great Australian Songbook Tour 2026 – a solo tour stripped back to voice, piano, guitar and memory. No band. No safety net. Just Paynter interpreting the songs he grew up with and, in many cases, grew into – from Cold Chisel and Farnham to Silverchair, Powderfinger, Missy Higgins, Sia and Alex Lloyd.
“These aren’t songs I picked because they’re famous,” he says. “They’re songs that live in me. Most of them I’ve been singing my whole life. The bonus is I have worked with a lot of the people who wrote them, so I can tell those stories too.”
Paynter’s CV reads like a guided tour of Australian music’s past 40 years. He joined the Icehouse touring band in 2011. And given his pivotal spot in Jimmy Barnes’ band, he has learned what it means to sing next to a force of nature.
“Jimmy’s a freight train,” he says. “There’s no easing into it. It’s full throttle for two hours. My job is to thicken the melody – thirds, fifths, high gospel parts – and survive.”
Survival sometimes comes with a literal shove.
“If you’re at the front playing guitar, he’ll put you in a headlock or kick you toward the mic,” Paynter laughs. “First few gigs, I wasn’t ready. You lose your balance but you cannot miss a note – he hates clams.”
The payoff is the moments musicians dine out on for a lifetime: playing Bow River with Barnes and Ian Moss, following Mossy’s beautiful phrasing by watching his shoulders for cues; singing Great Southern Land at the Sydney Opera House as the harbour glows behind you.
“Those are the moments where you think, ‘I can’t believe this is my job’,” he says.
At the emotional core of Paynter’s musical life sits John Farnham – the voice he still calls “objectively the best singer this country’s produced”.
“My first memories are Chain Reaction, 33⅓ – that album is his best singing, hands down,” he says. “He’s so free on it.”
Paynter toured with Farnham, stood side-stage watching him dismantle songs with casual brilliance, and once had the surreal experience of receiving feedback from Farnham on a song Paynter had written.
“Chong Lim called me from the studio and said, ‘I’m here with John – he loves it.’ That’ll stay with me forever.”
It’s that lineage Paynter is honouring on this tour – not in a museum-piece way, but as living, breathing songs that still carry emotional voltage. His versions aren’t carbon copies. He searches for the hidden harmonic turn, the unexpected phrasing, the place where the song fits him.
“It’s like trying on jeans,” he says. “Some look great on the rack but don’t fit. Others surprise you. I don’t want it to feel like covers, I want people to hear what these songs mean to me.”
That honesty has struck a nerve. Several shows sold out within days, something Paynter admits he didn’t expect.
“I honestly thought I’d lose money,” he says. “This is self-funded. It was a risk. The fact people want to come … I am incredibly grateful.”
There will be stories. There may be surprise guests. But the heart of the night is the voice, unfiltered, uncorrected, no auto-tune. The tour hits the road soon and winds its way across Australia.
“I’ve been so lucky,” Paynter says quietly. “This is just me saying thank you and singing them the only way I know how.”
Michael Paynter Great Australian Songbook plays The Garden of Unearthly Delights (Adelaide Festival), March 4, 9pm; Sopo Southport, Gold Coast, March 20; and Lefty’s Music Hall, Brisbane, May 3.
This article may be shared online or in print under a Creative Commons licence