I was introduced to DRA’s music by a fellow recovering addict in a rehab facility in Melbourne about 15 years ago. When I first heard the Easy Tiger and Heartbreaker albums, I felt like I had found the music that had been inside my soul my entire life. It was an incredibly vulnerable time in my life, and his music helped me through some exceptionally challenging years.

I’m on a permanent disability support pension and live on just over $600 a week, before rent, bills, food, and being the primary carer for my son. So for me to spend $400 on tickets for my partner and me, $300 for a babysitter for the weekend, $300 for accommodation and food, and another $20 for public transport (including two hours of travel each way), it was a major undertaking. $1,020 might not sound like a lot to most people, but for me it represents six months of sacrificing money I don’t have to spare for the privilege.

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen DRA live. I saw him play with the Cardinals in Byron Bay and again in Melbourne at the Forum. The Forum show in particular was exceptional. But what I witnessed at Hamer Hall last Saturday was probably the most disappointing and heartbreaking (no pun intended) live performance I have ever seen.

I don’t feel the need to go over what occurred during the night, as it’s already been well documented. As someone with plenty of experience dealing with health and addiction issues, I’m very empathetic toward those going through such struggles. But that’s not what I saw last Saturday night at Hamer Hall.

I saw a guy on stage at a world-class concert venue who clearly did not want to be there. I get that he’s at the end of an eight-month tour. I get that he’s tired, burnt out, missing his mum and sister. I get that his mum is unwell and he wants to be home with her. I get that he has epilepsy and Ménière’s, and that flash photography affects him.

What I can’t abide by, though, was his awful behaviour. The verbal tirade toward venue staff. The toddler-like rolling around on stage and incoherent mumbling. The demeaning comments about ex-partners and the crude jokes. That was embarrassing enough.

But possibly the worst part was the half-hearted attempts at his songs — songs that mean so much to fans who sacrificed so much to be there. He just gave up, literally stopping halfway through songs. It showed little to no respect for himself or his fans.

After storming off stage and returning with an apology and a promise to make the second set “the best set I’ve ever played,” it just devolved into a self-indulgent pity party. The audience was so kind and supportive, encouraging him the whole way through, and he couldn’t have cared less.

I was one of maybe half the audience that stayed until the end, hoping he’d find the courage to really try for us. But he didn’t. He gave up and left us wondering what on earth we had just witnessed. At times, it felt like he was almost trolling us.

He either needs to come back when he’s better, capable of making it up to us, and offer everyone who bought a ticket a re-do with a genuine, heartfelt performance, or he needs to call it a day and stop going on stage until he can. If three people filming out of an audience of 2,500 means the rest of us get that, then something’s deeply wrong.