Live Review: The Blurst Of Times Festival

When a festival is named after a gag from The Simpsons, you know it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Much like nicotine-addicted monkeys on typewriters, this year’s Blurst Of Times line-up is unbelievable, unpredictable and sort of really genius.

For the first time since its 2013 launch, the festival is spread across Fortitude Valley’s arguable holy trinity of live music — the smoky Brightside, the tartan-carpeted Foundry and its punky older brother, The Zoo. There’s a real communal joy in traversing the three-block radius, chatting to fellow wristbands or catching a bite alongside the headlining acts at Ben’s Burgers or Lucky Egg.

At 4.30 on a Saturday afternoon, most of the crowd at The Brightside’s carpark stage have probably just rolled out of bed. Everyone’s busy fuelling up on their liquid breakfasts at the bar, and festival openers These Guy are tasked with piquing their interest. Not a problem. The solo-bedroom-project-come-real-band by prolific Brisbane musician Joe Saxby (and his equally talented bandmates, Josh Coxon and Eddie L’Estrange) showcases an infectious brand of experimental, lo-fi synth-pop. The beat-up MacBook by Saxby’s side, plastered in music stickers, is more-or-less a visual representation of their sound. Technical yet humble, and a little bit makeshift.

Over at the Foundry, the enigmatic Ciggy Pop (aka Gabe Webster, aka that drummer from The Creases with cool hair) entertains the crowd with a slew of ‘70s covers. “It was really hard writing these,” he quips. “Seems like it’s been 40 years.” In what could be considered Brisbane’s version of a supergroup, Webster is flanked by familiar faces from The Creases (Aimon Clark), The Jungle Giants (Andrew Dooris), Babaganoüj (Charles Sale) and Major Leagues (Jacob Knauth). Their high energy performance of Ziggy Stardust — “dedicated to our mate, Davo, rest in peace” — gets the crowd moving almost as much as Webster himself. He’s climbing off the stage. He’s on the floor. And, his pants are off.

That guy from These Guy, Josh Coxon, reappears at The Brightside in the guise of ‘80s electro-pop ace Simi Lacroix. He continues to camp up the night with his piano-key suspenders and cheeky ‘stache but, surprisingly, he sounds even more retro than he looks. It’s that boogie-ready, lovelorn stuff your dad used to play on the car stereo, but, like, actually cool. The Best Of Me is a banger and a half, so all is forgiven when he nearly offs the audience with an out-of-control swinging microphone.

Come sunset, and psychedelic noise rockers Twin Haus dial up the ambience factor in the packed carpark of The Brightside. The local lads have shown major growth since their 2013 inception, and apparently playing to a full capacity venue is now no big deal. Their carefully curated set is a transfixing experience, building from intricate guitars to prog-rock riffs and thunderous jams — each note executed with clinical precision. You can feel the bass line pounding through that organ somewhere in the left of your ribcage. It’s show of serious musicianship, and it’s a welcome interlude from the night’s campiness and costumes.

On the other end of the spectrum, Brisbane teenagers The Goon Sax are all about the observational tongue-in-cheek sing-talk, like a trio of cheap wine-loving Courtney Barnetts. Music media are particularly fond of name-dropping frontman Louis Forster’s father, Robert Forster of The Go-Betweens, as if wry lyricism is hereditary or something (eh, maybe). But tonight’s jangly performance proves they’ve got their own thing going, and the constant comparisons ought to be getting irksome for a band that’s burgeoning in their own right.

Perth natives Methyl Ethel play the type of dreamy, nostalgic tunes you’d probably want to wake up to on a rainy Sunday morning. Actually, there probably already exists a Spotify playlist for that. Frontman Jake Webb’s echoed vocals — often likened to Animal Collective — blend seamlessly over his loopy guitar tapestries and Thom Stewart’s punchy bass lines. Mid-set, These Guy’s Joe Saxby (god, they’re everywhere) joins the trio on stage for a Twilight Driving saxophone solo — a spontaneous cameo apparently arranged only an hour prior, through pure musical bromance.

Another bromance, Sydney two-piece Polish Club, takes The Brightside stage 15 minutes late — tech issues, perhaps — but their soul-inspired garage rock is well worth it. This is probably the loudest the venue has been all night, and there are only the two of them. But it’s not all aggression and brash, heavy riffs. Vocalist and guitarist Novak, like some rock’n’roll pastor, instructs the crowd to turn to the person next to them for a big hug. Aw. By the time Beeping hits, the audience is loved up and losing it.

Then comes the night’s big decision. Messy moshing with local legends Dune Rats or mellow art rock with Sydney provocateur Kirin J Callinan? Porque no los dos? Of course, there’s also electro-pop Sullivan DJing at The Zoo, and suddenly three-way human mitosis sounds like an entirely plausible idea.

For those who choose Mr Callinan, the avante-garde guitar maverick and Laneway Festival’s 2016 MC, they’re in for a show. In a kilt, sneakers and that damn enviable prison mullet, he is no less than a deity on the Foundry stage. Callinan is joined by his two mysterious turtleneck-clad ‘brothers’, keyboardist Tex Crick and drummer Dave Jenkins, Jr, and suddenly the whole thing feels a little cultish.

For an act that relies so much on showmanship and visuals, a lot of the experience is lost in the narrow layout of the venue. Unfortunately, the vertically challenged sardines at the back of the crowd miss out on Callinan’s nonsensical onstage banter (“What's Humpty Dumpty’s wife’s name? Michelle Obama”), prompting a clueless game of Chinese Whispers. It’s a weird set — perhaps weirder than the Dunies’ inflatable pool toy romp across Brunswick Mall — but nobody here expects anything less. It all reaches peak Kirin J when he spends a good five minutes chanting about being a toddler (“not a baby, but not yet a boy”), but then the clock strikes twelve and the fairytale is over.

Brisbane owes a big thank you to Mr Burns, the thousand monkeys and everyone else who was behind the success that was Blurst 2016. Thanks for transforming an otherwise overcrowded, stiletto-heeled Fortitude Valley Saturday in into an impeccably soundtracked Choose Your Own Adventure. Same time next year?