Live Review: Beat The Drum - Triple J 40th Anniversary

As the music shifted genres and generation-hopped from act to act, you possibly got some idea of one of triple j’s greatest strengths - and greatest weaknesses. This one truly national brand is trying to hit as broad a range as possible.

Local hip-hop seems equally lauded and loathed by their audience, the eternal argument of whether there’s too many or too few guitars, the merit or otherwise of mostly electronic noise you can dance to. And then there’s even the ‘Youth Network’ label – as the station hits middle-age.

Pic by Averie Harvey.

That aside, the day had the usual festival delights: overcrowded, under-catered, bar and toilet queues that felt like a voyage of the damned, and those shirtless boys – Southern Cross tattoo optional – who alternately shove by you, or want to hug you and call you ‘maaaaaate’, before taking three steps toward the stage and falling over. Ah, #Straya.

But hopefully you find a spot to watch the actual entertainment unfold, as Ball Park Music offer the first of many “Hello, Sydney, how’s it going?”, and the first of many guest cross-pollinations as the ever-dapper Dave Faulkner strolls on for a fairly faithful run at the Gurus’ Like Wow - Wipeout.

Then there’s pop that may well be first exposed by the hosts, but then goes beyond them. Vance Joy seems a nice boy. To roll out the similarly clean and tidy Bernard Fanning for a duet of Australian Crawl’s Reckless is almost polite, before Vance’s entry into the mass consciousness, Riptide, gets the crowd singalong treatment, with nary a water bottle thrown in anger. The next between-band interlude offers their biggest crossover star of recent times – Gotye in minimalist mode avoids that song about previous acquaintance, but Heart’s A Mess is close.

The Preatures are all rock and roll attitood, reflected in Isabella’s affixed sunglasses, and rolling out Divinyls’ Mark McEntee and Boys In Town for their homage to another time. Sarah Blasko and Paul Dempsey follow doing Crowded House’s Distant Sun, which begs the question ‘Did that ever get played on the station in question?’                                                                                              

What was needed as you wonder if your friends were ever going to make it back with that $9 beer they went for 45 minutes ago, some of that old timey rock and/or roll. Myf and Wil do the enthusiastic introduction and Tim Rogers thanks the station for “…Giving we kids a chance to play”, and You Am I do what they do. With friends: Joelistics for a bit, Adalita does the crowd surf as a brocade-jacketed Rogers handles the Jewels And Bullets guitar solo, and Courtney Barnett grins through Mr. Milk. This is fun as the sun dribbles away.

Oh look, it’s Peter Garrett. Is he gonna sing? And better yet, dance in the old fashioned way? Nope. He’s just introducing that once most youthful discovery of the youth network: Daniel Johns. On piano. With harpist. Covering Smells Like Teen Spirit. Again: Smells. Like. Teen. Spirit. Wistful overwrought ballad-stylee. For nigh on eight minutes. Some of the crowd are transfixed, others detecting a rumbling sound in the background which may have been Kurt spinning in his grave.

Hilltop Hoods. Pic by Averie Harvey.

It’s then into the night’s home run of some of the J’s biggest acts, each having their champions, and/or those people who decide their set might be time to risk those portaloos or something consisting of some sort of bread roll and some sort of alleged pulled pork. The resurrected Cat Empire is still the ethnic family down the street’s block party, with Owl Eyes guesting on Kylie’s Confide In Me – again, not sure if that one ever got played on the station in question either. But, ironically, they insert some Hotel California into Chariots. ‘Fun’ fact: no station in Australia played The Eagles standard more than ye olde Double J – those outrageous boundary pushing rebels! Or maybe just a reflection of just how musically conservative the country was before that head exploded.

The Presets are the electronic dance act suitable for backyard barbeques. But they really do make some great pop songs. Hermitude helps on Ghosts, but then Megan Washington magnificently takes on This Boy’s In Love, and she is singing it just to me. No, not you – me. Back off. And then DZ Deathrays have a go. And all of the people – stop and watch 20,000 of said people bouncing in unison. Big music.

Finally, possibly the most divisive of Kingsmill’s fiefdom. Hilltop Hoods – love them or hate them – are a world class act. They are huge, and the audience moves in waves. Cosby Sweater and The Nosebleed Section – with Seth Sentry, Drapht, Tkay Maidza and your ever-popular many others – are the final face-slaps needed that made many overlook the shortcomings of the event - or the station that spawned it.