Lime Cordiale Kicked Off Jim Beam Welcome Sessions In Style With A Massive Hometown DJ Set
This year’s high-profile musical events are well underway, with Sydney’s own Lime Cordiale helping to kick off the 2023 edition of the Jim Beam Welcome Sessions in February.
Image: @jessgleeson
BRITTANY JENKE
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This year’s high-profile musical events are well underway, with Sydney’s own Lime Cordiale helping to kick off the 2023 edition of the Jim Beam Welcome Sessions.
First announcing their current roster of events earlier this year, Jim Beam Welcome Sessions entered 2023 in a big way, expanding upon their initial activities in recent years. In 2022, undertakings expanded to Australian shores, with beloved artists like Flight Facilities, Client Liaison, and The Veronicas all performing before the homegrown crowds that have admired them since day one.
Needless to say, the memorable experiences it provides for the artists at the centre of the performances are matched by the fans in attendance, witnessing the magic happen thanks to the folks at Jim Beam. Deeply personal, for fans and artists, these majestic undertakings have provided and fostered a deep sense of community for all involved, ensuring that the magic of music continues to affect even when not performing in a traditional sense.
Closing out the opening weekend with a bang, the 2023 series of gigs officially kicked off, with Lime Cordiale taking over The Island in Sydney for a DJ set on the afternoon of Sunday, February 12th. Appearing against the stunning backdrop of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, the pair turned the iconic venue into a celebration of their own world-beating music, paired with other beloved classics as they dished out a stunning DJ set before an adoring crowd.
For those who knew the band, it was clear that this was always going to be a memorable affair. After all, the group said so themselves when Oli Leimbach spoke to Rolling Stone last month. “It’s pretty special, and a DJ set is a good one to take all your friends to, so you can have a lot of fun,” said Liembach. “It’s special playing at home, for sure.”
Indeed, it was this sort of homecoming atmosphere that the pair wanted to ensure the Sydney crowd experienced as they descended upon The Island for an afternoon of good vibes, good tunes, and refreshing Jim Beam beverages.
Impeccably dressed as always, Oli and Louis Liembach appeared before a crowd who felt born for the summer afternoon. The voracious punters were eating out of the palm of the Liembachs’ collective hands, adoring every single track that was played. It was impossible for anyone in the crowd to stand still, or to wipe the smile off of their faces, with Lime Cordiale taking time to point out individual members of the audience during their set.
As the harbour breeze enveloped all in attendance, so too did the sonic majesty of Lime Cordiale wash over the crowd. Pairing classic hits with their own material, and even a few remixes here and there, the Liembach’s ensured that everyone’s musical tastes were taken care of. As Oli explained recently, they’ve been working hard to ensure their DJ sets are something for fans to remember forever.
“They’re always pretty fun,” Oli told Rolling Stone of the group’s previous DJ sets. “Louis gets incredibly nervous for a DJ set, but then doesn’t have any fear when we’re playing live at a big festival, which is pretty hilarious.”
As expected, Lime Cordiale’s appearance for the 2023 edition of Jim Beam Welcome Sessions was all about vibe curation. It wasn’t enough to simply turn up before a hometown crowd and expect the kudos to roll in (though it well may have). No, the pair worked hard to ensure the voracious crowd had their afternoon soundtracked by smooth tunes, the trademark brand of Lime Cordiale humour, and the sort of high-energy and musical expertise that only the familial duo can provide.
By the end of the day though, what had occurred wasn’t just a musical showcase of the Liembachs’ own influences and favourites; it was a communal experience that would remain unmatched. Getting up close and personal with fans, it provided the pair with a chance to speak to their devoted fanbase, while also giving the average punter a rare opportunity to rub shoulders with some of the country’s biggest musical exports.
In true form, the pair’s planned meet-and-greet which closed out the affair was so popular that it went into overtime, with the brothers ensuring they met everyone they could in order to thank them for attending, and to help further the sense of community that has accompanied their rise to the top.
For further information about Jim Beam Welcome Sessions, head along to their official website, or stay tuned to Rolling Stone for more updates.
In partnership with Grill Mates and Stubb's BBQ Sauce.
There’s something unmistakably raw about William Crighton. It’s there in his voice—deep, cracked, like bark peeling from a eucalypt—and in the stories he tells, steeped in red dirt, rolling hills, and river ghosts. But beyond the music, there’s another side to Crighton that’s just as grounded in the Australian bush: cooking.
To him, the fire pit and the fretboard aren’t all that different. “I approach music similar to how I approach cooking ,” he says, “which is, I don't know too much, and going back to that childhood curiosity and wonder.”
Bush Songs and Backyard Smoke
Crighton’s music is often shaped by time spent in nature—walking through scrubland, sitting by creeks, or staring into campfire flames. His songs are rooted in place, and so is his food. He’s not about complicated recipes or kitchen gadgets; his ideal cooking set-up is a cast iron grill over coals, a sharp knife, and the open sky.
“There’s something about the bush that strips things back to what matters,” he says. “It’s the same with cooking. When you’re out there, it’s just you, the fire, and whatever you’ve got on hand. That’s where the magic is.”
And while Crighton’s approach is humble, it’s far from bland. A believer in bold, honest flavour, he’s quick to call out two essentials in his campfire toolkit: Grill Mates seasoning and Stubb’s BBQ Sauce.
“I’m not a chef, but I know what tastes good,” he laughs. “Grill Mates have that smoky hit that just works with anything—lamb chops, kangaroo, even a grilled zucchini. And Stubb’s? That stuff’s got soul.”
Smoke and Soul
For Crighton, cooking is more than just survival—it’s ceremony. Whether he’s on tour or out bush with his family, there’s a rhythm to it. Gather wood. Light the fire. Let it burn down. Season the meat. Cook it slow. Sit, talk, eat, listen. It’s the same process as writing a song, he says. “You don’t rush it. You let it build. You taste as you go.”
That sense of time, patience, and presence defines both his music and his meals. There’s no room for distractions when you're working with fire and feeling your way through a song. It’s tactile. Sensory. Honest.
“A little bit of not knowing, that's where the best s*** comes,” he says. “Too much heat, too much spice, too many words—it’ll burn out or fall flat. But when you hit it just right? It’s unforgettable.”
Music, Meat, and Meaning
Ask Crighton about the perfect cook-up, and he won’t talk about sous-vide machines or reverse searing. He’ll talk about standing barefoot in the dust, his guitar nearby, kids running around, a bit of Stubb’s soaking into a thick ribeye as the sun drops low.
It’s not just about what’s on the plate—it’s who you’re sharing it with, what the day’s been like, what you’re listening to Will tells us. "Food and music are both about creating a moment. That’s the stuff people remember.”
As his songs continue to resonate around the world, from the stages of Nashville to the paddocks of New South Wales, William Crighton remains committed to that core philosophy: stay grounded, keep it simple, and always cook with heart.
Because whether he’s crafting a haunting verse or searing a steak, Crighton knows—the good stuff happens when you let the fire do its thing.
In partnership with Grill Mates and Stubb's BBQ Sauce.
There’s something unmistakably raw about William Crighton. It’s there in his voice—deep, cracked, like bark peeling from a eucalypt—and in the stories he tells, steeped in red dirt, rolling hills, and river ghosts. But beyond the music, there’s another side to Crighton that’s just as grounded in the Australian bush: cooking.
To him, the fire pit and the fretboard aren’t all that different. “I approach music similar to how I approach cooking ,” he says, “which is, I don't know too much, and going back to that childhood curiosity and wonder.”
Bush Songs and Backyard Smoke
Crighton’s music is often shaped by time spent in nature—walking through scrubland, sitting by creeks, or staring into campfire flames. His songs are rooted in place, and so is his food. He’s not about complicated recipes or kitchen gadgets; his ideal cooking set-up is a cast iron grill over coals, a sharp knife, and the open sky.
“There’s something about the bush that strips things back to what matters,” he says. “It’s the same with cooking. When you’re out there, it’s just you, the fire, and whatever you’ve got on hand. That’s where the magic is.”
And while Crighton’s approach is humble, it’s far from bland. A believer in bold, honest flavour, he’s quick to call out two essentials in his campfire toolkit: Grill Mates seasoning and Stubb’s BBQ Sauce.
“I’m not a chef, but I know what tastes good,” he laughs. “Grill Mates have that smoky hit that just works with anything—lamb chops, kangaroo, even a grilled zucchini. And Stubb’s? That stuff’s got soul.”
Smoke and Soul
For Crighton, cooking is more than just survival—it’s ceremony. Whether he’s on tour or out bush with his family, there’s a rhythm to it. Gather wood. Light the fire. Let it burn down. Season the meat. Cook it slow. Sit, talk, eat, listen. It’s the same process as writing a song, he says. “You don’t rush it. You let it build. You taste as you go.”
That sense of time, patience, and presence defines both his music and his meals. There’s no room for distractions when you're working with fire and feeling your way through a song. It’s tactile. Sensory. Honest.
“A little bit of not knowing, that's where the best s*** comes,” he says. “Too much heat, too much spice, too many words—it’ll burn out or fall flat. But when you hit it just right? It’s unforgettable.”
Music, Meat, and Meaning
Ask Crighton about the perfect cook-up, and he won’t talk about sous-vide machines or reverse searing. He’ll talk about standing barefoot in the dust, his guitar nearby, kids running around, a bit of Stubb’s soaking into a thick ribeye as the sun drops low.
It’s not just about what’s on the plate—it’s who you’re sharing it with, what the day’s been like, what you’re listening to Will tells us. "Food and music are both about creating a moment. That’s the stuff people remember.”
As his songs continue to resonate around the world, from the stages of Nashville to the paddocks of New South Wales, William Crighton remains committed to that core philosophy: stay grounded, keep it simple, and always cook with heart.
Because whether he’s crafting a haunting verse or searing a steak, Crighton knows—the good stuff happens when you let the fire do its thing.
