Splendour Day Two: Reviews, The Amish And Doing The Time Warp

Thoughts, notes and reviews from Splendour's second day for 2013.

MITCH KNOX: AMISH BIG BROTHER, THE TIPI FOREST DUALITYAND THE HAPPIEST BAND ON THE PLANET

After a pretty frantic Friday, and with a more relaxed schedule ahead of me for Day Two, I decided this morning that the glorious, sunny day that greeted me was a sign from above that I should slow down a little today and take in some of Splendour's many wonderful cultural microcosms. 

Back in the festival, you had to give credit to the festival crew for their overnight efforts in making the place more navigatable with the aid of bark, hay and gravel. Indeed, in the wake of yesterday's many controversies, it was easy to overlook all the good things the crews on the ground have been doing for us these past two days. And, it must be said, remnant muddiness aside, the Parklands premises are incredibly well laid out in terms of easy orientation and being able to get between stages quickly when you need to. But before I sought out a stage, I felt it was time to visit the Tipi Forest.

If you've not been, the Tipi Forest is a fantastically, brilliantly strange little zone dedicated to peace and love during the day and raving-the-fuck-out by night. Its two faces are so disparate and yet so appropriate, with its installation of fluoro pink string to get entwined in, boards on which to scrawl musings, advice and hook-ups for free drugs, tipis in which to chill and a tribal aesthetic that comes alive in a neon-and-glo-stick-fuelled explosion when the moon is up and spirits are running wild and free.

Exiting the peace-and-love version of the forest, I happened upon a sight that I didn't quite know how to feel about: a real-life Amish community, with goats and tools and see-through barn, just being Amish, working the land, doing their thing, harming no one... behind a pen-like fence. This is when I started to feel kind of bad, as people nearby asked one of the younger members if they were going to put on a show and he responded, quite obliviously, "There are shows on at the stages, if that's what you mean." To be fair, I did see the Amish family band near the Mix-up stage later on, a positively joyous affair of banjos and strings and hoedowns. 

Yet there at the Splendour barn enclosure, the whole thing kind of was a show, a perverse voyeuristic glance into another way of life that felt almost like an exhibit as people "oohed" and "ahhed" and Instagram'd. It was a weird feeling, because for every person who had stopped out of genuine curiosity and interest, there were two more who had stopped to have a good laugh, and it made me uneasy. When a little Amish girl wandered over to the fence and handed me a piece of hay to chew on like hers, my heart broke a little bit. And when I passed them again later while they were all sat at a long wooden table for lunch in their barn, I saw some guys jump the fence to get a closer look at the goats, which security - and the Amish - didn't particularly like. As I felt like a gawker and still had time to kill before my first band of the day, I headed to the Global Village, where a juggling/hula-hooping/acrobatics troupe was putting on an impressive display of the kind of physical talent most of us can only ever dream about. To the side, people were learning how to slackline and soaking up the sun. I took a detour to grab a Byron Bay Organic Donut (a Splendour dietary must), was tempted into an outrageously good munchable from the world's friendliest chef at The Cookie Shack, and dived headlong into the day's musical offerings.

For someone who ordinarily wouldn't listen to them, Jagwar Ma were entertaining as hell, and it was impossible not to get caught up in the crowd-wide bounce that set in early and didn't let up until the end of their set. Rising young'un Jake Bugg, over at the Supertop, was enjoyable too, his Neutral Milk Hotel-meets-Dylan vocal style providing a stark counterpoint to the sweetly robust instrumentation that accompanied him.

But, honestly, everything else today was hard-pressed to match New York duo MS MR for sheer crowd vibe. The cheers were deafening the whole way through. The band were humbled, beaming, putting hands to their hearts in appreciation as the capacity audience propelled them to unbelievable heights. "This is the show we dreamed of playing when we started out," said vocalist Lizzy Plapinger, and you could tell she meant it. They earnt every bit of their accolades, too, with Plapinger's voice and body doing incredible things with powerful, come-hither assuredness while her partner in crime Max Hershenow offered charming banter, capable support harmonies and dance moves of his own. Plus, with an endearing cover of LCD Soundsystem's Dance Yrself Clean and a mass performance of Happy Birthday to a crew member onstage, not a single person left that show feeling blue.

Similarly, Polyphonic Spree's set - a start-to-finish, tremendously theatrical rendition of The Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack - was also an exercise in sheer joy. If you've never taken part in a festival audience-sized performance of Time Warp, you should make a point to do so if ever the opportunity presents itself. Everyone jumped to the left. Everyone stepped to the right. Everyone sang and danced and threw their hands up in reckless abandon. And there's something so indescribably uplifting about being part of a sea of waving hands and people singing "Don't dream it, be it" over and over. It was like that the whole time. And that would have been special enough on its own, but the Spree weren't done. As a kicker to the already unforgettable performance, they did a quick wardrobe change and graced us with a quick set of their own buoyant choral pop before calling it a night.

And what a night (and day) it was. I return to my tent tonight a genuinely happy man, riding the kind of high that can only come from a truly good day. I am equal parts saddened and relieved that the first of the last of the festivities will be upon us in less than 12 hours. But if today was any indication, it should be a cracker of a conclusion.

BENNY DOYLE: THIS IS NOT A ROCK EISTEDDFOD

It's the wrong place, wrong time for Chet Faker. The space surrounding the stage is fucking packed – seriously, one of the biggest crowds seen in the Mix Up tent so far. But it's the middle of the afternoon at a festival; for this music to really work it should be late night in a bar – stirred, not shaken if you will. Chet sounds great. He performs with shades adorned from behind a keyboard and his voice is pitch perfect. Images of himself watch emotionlessly from behind the stage, while a three-piece backing band flesh out all the elements of his songs. The crowd is polite through the first 30 minutes, but we're all waiting for a couple of jams. You get the feeling Chet knows that, too. And so he draws it out before dropping big tune I'm Into You and his cover of Blackstreet's No Diggity. People rejoice and Chet even manages to crack a smile through that bushy beard. 

When Empire Of The Sun performed up in Woodfordia as part of Splendour In The Grass 2010, it all seemed a bit school rock eisteddfod. The songs still throbbed out from the speakers and demanded you to stomp, but the costumes of Luke Steele, his cohorts and the number of dancers that cut shapes throughout seemed a little budget – almost tacky. This time around, however, and shit is all kinds of world class. It's a pure theatrical spectacle, with shimmering outfits, dazzling lights and movement from every corner of the stage, with Emperor Steele controlling the whole experience like a pro. The setlist touches on all the best moments from Empire Of The Sun's two albums, and while the biggest cheers are given to the singles that made their name – Walking On A Dream, We Are The People – the high points of the show are new cuts like DNA and Celebrate. A more positive rave party you're not likely to experience and a Splendour performance that will be talked about for a very long time.

And the question was left: how was The National going to topple the Empire? By putting on a career defining performance, that's how. Led by the unmistakable croon of Matt Berninger – rocking in prescription glasses just in case you were worried their popularity was going to turn the frontman into a rock star – the Ohio-cum-New York five-piece make the world stand still for 90 minutes. It's a powerful display put on by a group at the top of their game, and with some additional players on keys and brass it's impossible not to feel uplifted and inspired. The frontman stalks the stage, venting his emotions like he's having an outer body experience, while the brothers Dessner and Devendorf show that bloodlines create a chemistry that no amount of playing could obtain. Sea Of Love is jaw-dropping good, Conversation 16 lingers like a love affair that slipped through your fingers, while Mr November is furious and sees Berninger screaming pain and frustration into the microphone while looming over the front row from the barrier. When they close with Terrible Love the place simply erupts. Guitars are raised, thanks are given and many tears are wiped from cheeks, no doubt. “It takes an ocean not to break.”

INDIVIDUAL REVIEWS 

Jagwar Ma

A sizeable cheer goes up as the curtain pulls back ever-so-slightly behind schedule to make way for Jagwar Ma to take the stage. A club-pulse bounce takes hold of the audience as the tent heaves along with loopy, hypnotic opener What Love?, taking its cues from the wild bobbing of the bodies on stage. This an act confident in, and able at, what they do - their electro pop arrangements such as standout Man I Need and clear winner Come Save Me evoking an almost primal response from all in the vicinity. A band most worthy of their publicity. 

Jake Bugg, pic by Stephen Booth

Jake Bugg

The chilled acoustic vibes of Fire fill the air, heralding the arrival of British wunderkind Jake Bugg to the Supertop. Quickly, it becomes apparent his nasally singing voice - in the vein of Neutral Milk Hotel's Jeff Mangum in tone and inflection - is a good fit with the robust sweetness of his guitar-driven, country-flecked tunes. The rollicking pace of Kentucky gets the good times truly started and indicates that Bugg lives up to his comparisons to a young Bob Dylan. His set is a boot-scootin', feel-good git-down - even the onset of Seen It All's melancholy chord pattern somewhat contrarily lifts spirits in the pit. Simple As This is one of several especially strong showings from the affable, humble Bugg, who seems genuinely appreciative of the enthusiasm with which his songs are being greeted. From new songs to well-loved anthems such as Lightning Bolt and Two Fingers, it's an impressive performance from an up-and-coming artist whose best days are almost certainly still ahead of him - and if this is any indication, won't they be something? 

One line punters don't mind being on; there's always time for a line-dance between stage dashes

MS MR

Fucking incredible. There might be a more eloquent way to describe MS MR's set, but it wouldn't do them justice. A sonic and visual delight, the New York-based duo of Lizzy Plapinger and Max Hershenow are clearly overwhelmed by the incredibly vocal love that is being heaped upon them by a full-to-capacity Mix-up crowd. Plapinger's sultry moves and spellbinding, powerful voice are impossible to deny, not that anyone would try. Visibly stoked to be here, almost disbelieving of how much they're appreciated, the band faultlessly delivers an utterly captivating performance spanning songs old (such as Fantasy, which generates a simply huge sing-along effort from the crowd), new (Think Of You) and covered (a pitch-perfect rendition of LCD Soundsystem's Dance Yrself Clean) as Plapinger tells us, "You are hands-down the best crowd we have ever played for". It could be an empty statement from anyone else, but the smile stuck to Plapinger's face and her repeated gestures towards her heart suggest otherwise, as does the deafening roar that arises when the band announces final song Hurricane. A round of Happy Birthday is initiated by the audience for "Tim", 40 today and responsible for bringing Ms Mr to our shores twice this year. If their performance tonight - and the response to it - is any indication, we can look forward to many return trips in future.

Bernard Fanning, pic by Stephen Booth

Bernard Fanning

Australian music icon Bernard Fanning kicks off his set in familiar territory with Battleships, which is ... fine. So, too, is Inside Track, which follows it. I mean, there's nothing wrong with it, exactly. The man undeniably has a fantastic, rich voice, and his talent is obviously undeniable, but the performance and songs start off a little bland in comparison with some of the veritable spectacles we've seen over the past two days. But put a song such as Thrill Is Gone or Songbird - or even the hugely popular Wish You Well - replete with audience-driven handclap and goodwill action, in his hands, and the whole thing turns into something pretty special to behold. Unfortunately, the dips into material from recent LP Departures, including the reflective title track, prevent it from remaining that way throughout. A guest vocal appearance from local Renee Simone is a nice touch, though, and adds a sweet extra dimension to a decent, if not overly memorable, showing. 

Flume

Yup... there's Flume. Doing the thing. Playing that hit of his. Oh, and the other one. That other hit, too. Just like he did last year. And that's kind of the problem with the sort of meteoric rise experienced by Harley Streten: he's been playing so many shows for his admittedly strong, widely appreciated self-titled debut album of electronic grooves that he's left himself no time to greatly expand his repertoire. Or maybe he has; it's impossible to tell, honestly. What matters is: the people love it, it's a technically proficient show, and it really does sound great. It's an energising vibe to be amongst, that's for sure, but he's going to need to develop some other tricks, and soon, to stay on top.

Polyphonic Spree

They're a little delayed in starting, but Polyphonic Spree make it instantly known that the wait was more than worth it as they kick off their interpretation of The Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack. It's a splendid display of theatricality, with band leader Tim DeLaughter filling Frankenfurter's fabulous shoes with seductive aplomb. Various band members fill the roles of Brad, Janet, Riff-raff, Eddie and co as the sizeable choral pop collective use everything at their disposal -  trumpet, trombone, keys, guitar, violin, cello, bass, drums and voice - to coax the entire tent into a frenzy of gang vocals (Science Fiction Double Feature, Dammit Janet, Sweet Transvestite), synchronised dancing (Time Warp, duh) and giddy ebullience from go to whoa before - as a special treat - delivering a mini-gig of their own uplifting material as a sort of encore performance. A standout experience.

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theMusic.com.au's Splendour In The Grass Coverage

Frank Ocean cancels
Lorde drafted in for Sunday
Thoughts and reviews from day one
The 5 best and worst things from day one
Ever-growing Splendour gallery