A perfect mid-winter's day in a paddock out back of Byron. The smell of dope in the air, dust up your nostrils,cloudless sky, and a camping ground right outside the front gate.
We throw down a few coldies and get amongst the grey moodiness and bloodied stomp of Sunk Loto. They're running on pure adrenalin, as those rock solid riffs hit you head on and let you know that the fury is all part of the plan.
The arvo poppers are having a ball at the DJ Teepees as we cruise on over to the dance side the trees. Thoughts of early Livid fests come to mind. The air is cruisy and the vibe is is even more so...
Brisbane's George spare little time in winning over the home crowd with their beautifully mellow, sparse cascades. Hypnotic, operatic, floating soundscapes that are as light as a feather and so very easy to swallow. Passion drenched, and a total drug.
Groove is what it's all about over at the big top, as locals Couch Funk put on the perfect lounge party.Drilling rap monologues that contrast with sweet seductive vocals, all over samples and a slick backbeat that has all manner of fingers in the collective pie. Fun fun fun, and very cool to boot.
Superheist come on so hard you'd swear it was their last day on this mortal coil. A cutting, bludgeoning slice of sound that's so chunky you could carve it. Energy plus, raw assaults, and perfect dynamics. So honed, so professional, so full to the core. Amazing.
It's a hard act to follow, but Magic Dirt manage to pull it off without a worry in the world. Scathing guitars and laden with a full tank of juice that's just begging for a live match to be thrown into the equation. Firing on all cylinders.
The smokey, phat beats of King Kapisi lure us back over to the big top, where the big man himself is holding court with only a turntable, some samples and a steady groove that's smothered in soul. Very smooth stuff from the big fella.
Something For Kate are another of those bands that have really found their way, and today they are one big, electric, maturo, pop factory.The kids go nuts and we all walk away with a fucking big smile on our dial.
Endorphin keeps it all trippy and visual as per usual, and it's a wicked spell that he casts on the brethren. Frenzals on the other hand, prefer to beat it into your weary carcus. Snotty, loud, wickedly grotty tunes that scrape at your skin and have you itching all the way to the bar. DOn't ever change guys!
Ex Pavement axe man Steve Malkmus strolls on like he's done it a million times before. Its a festival, but it could well be some tiny bar in the back of buggery.Concentrated slacker pop is his ilk, with plenty of jangle and a more than serious edge to the game.
28 Days take the opposite approach, marrying mayhem with menace, in a way that only they can do. A beautiful balance of man and machine, ahead of Spearhead's semi-spiritual rhythms and big warm wraparound doona of sound. Happy happy happy!
And to take us out tonight, it's a real hero's welcome for the true masters of musical style, Powderfinger. Polished till they glisten, it's a varied smorgasbord of hits and rare misses that punch the night air with all the penache and passion that we'd expect. Showmen? You betcha.
One wicked day that took the best part of many not so wicked days to get over. Splendid!
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