Live Review: Meredith Music Festival

Friday

With a respectable 6.30am wake up and Maccas breakfast stop on the way, this year's trip to Meredith Music Festival is surprisingly efficient with only a few inevitable mistakes: one mattress and the mandatory hummus dip left behind, plus a run-in with some angry tradies in the line from Meredith town. No matter, we get the tents up in erratic weather to be greeted mercifully by some sun, as if to celebrate the preparation finally over and the fun about to start.

A healthy crowd amasses to witness Warped open this year's festival. As expected, the hairy, screamo four-piece certainly rock hard with a few wah-peddling solos and a song dedicated to recently closed The Nash in Geelong. By this point in the afternoon, half the crowd are stumbling around while others muster the energy to stay awake, but the band still manage to elicit a devil's horn or two.

Perfect for the sleepy and tipsy, Deerhunter perform a spectral show of echoing vocals, grinding bass and swelling transitions between relaxing and intense guitar-pop. Although they play before night falls, the bubble blowers, glitter-covered and touters of miscellaneous objects on sticks are out in force. One particularly tinselly, eight-legged monstrosity doesn't sit well with Bradford Cox though, who tells us he “doesn't like spiders”. But this doesn't stop him from praising the festival much to the crowd's palpable pride and delight.

Some early squeaks raise questions as to Aunty's readiness for the wall of sound that emanates from Melvins. The set is hard and fast and quickly pushes the revellers that were drawn into the Sup' by the afro-beat goodness provided by the in-between DJs into the dinner queues. Nevertheless, Melvins put on a high-energy show heavy on double-kick drumming and thrashing bass that entertains the gaggle of fans in the front of the stage.

The audience huddles in the light rain for World's End Press. Donning silver sequined jacket variations, the band play through their electro, pop-bop repertoire. Noticeable sound issues again highlight that Aunty can make no guarantees in providing studio-quality sound, however bassist Sashi  Dharann's dance moves do compensate. Go-go dancers sporting bike shorts and baseball caps provide an entertaining coda at the end of the set.

One of the most anticipated acts of the festival, indicated by the breadth and density of the crowd, The Brian Jonestown Massacre play an incredibly engrossing live show. The trippy visual displays accompanying their set would probably seem super tacky in another context, but here they totally work and really enhance the experience. Who? is a particular highlight of the outfit's fun, incredibly '90s psych-rock sound, which thoroughly appeals to the swaying, bopping throng of both the festival's younger and older revellers.

Warped. Pic by David Harris.

Announcing his name and kindly spelling it out to the crowd for good measure, Le1f doesn't take the stage, he owns it. Wearing a head torch that quickly goes the way of his t-shirt (thrown to side of stage), Le1f's loose hips and fat beats gets the crowd pumping at 1am. The timeslot is perfect for a crowd that only wants to get its groove on to Le1f's smooth, deep rhymes. Set closer Wut is hands down the standout.

The brand of intelligent dance music delivered by English producer Jon Hopkins isn't wasted on the wasted masses, who immediately take to the late night electronic set. To begin, he draws heavily from his fantastic Immunity album released earlier this year, while, later on, he tends toward more generic, less intricate dance music. Combined with a brilliant, ecstatic light show, we're treated to an extraordinarily gripping performance. As one astute punter later puts it, “Jon Hopkins was fucking spectacular!”

Saturday

The City Of Ballarat Municipal Brass Band provide the best stage banter of the entire festival. Gems such as, “I was a bit worried you were all going to be, like, 'Boo! Get off',” and, “Well I know that it is 10am and you're probably all still not fully awake yet,” come thick and fast. The un-amped instruments coupled with the classics that they must have thought the kids would go for – such as Angels by Robbie Williams and Poker Face by Lady Gaga ease everyone into the morning.

Exhausted, hungover and utterly shattered, the crowd for this morning timeslot perfectly suit the grunge-pop stylings of Courtney Barnett. While her often lethargic drawl mirrors our mood well, the sharp interference piercing one song does not. Nonetheless, Barnett simultaneously sooths and entertains us with her personable, off-kilter voice and a country-folk-infused sound derived from her lovely slide guitar. Her deadpan, understated personality unintentionally charms, like when she awkwardly introduces us to single Avant Gardener with a brief, “Uh, thanks.”

Mac DeMarco oozes charisma and indulges the crowd with a set built on fun, good times and a toothy grin. DeMarco and co can do no wrong. He crowd-surfs from the stage to the sound desk and the extended interlude that occurs while replacing three strings that are broken onstage is easily the highlight of the set. Their songs are slightly juvenile but at the end of final song Still Together, all of the crowd's boots are held high in the air.

A dedicated troupe of fans suddenly appears from nowhere when The Smith Street Band arrive, clearly sensing the fantastically personal, energetic performance that will follow. Throughout their set, ultra-likeable frontman Wil Wagner sculls a Cruiser from a punter's shoe, preceding the barrage of shoes that pop up during popular closer Young Drunk. A man in a blue morph-suit atop another man's shoulders elicits a “woah” from Wagner mid-song, who finishes triumphantly by jumping into his adoring crowd.

Local darlings Dick Diver put an added horn section to good use throughout their set. They revel in the festival aesthetic, with a far smoother and more ambient sound than their usual Aussie-pop leanings, jazzed up with peacock-style stage dancers and others wearing cardboard money-boxes on their heads. Their friendly banter is still very much included though, with gems such as “twerking hard or hardly twerking”, and they're not the first band today to finish before a swarm of raised shoes.

Meredith and Golden Plains stalwarts The Bamboos take their place again in the Sup'. Singing is split between Kylie Auldist in a flowing green dress and Ella Thompson, who appears like a giant sparkle. Yellow, red, green and blue streamers flow through the crowd as the band belt through On The Sly and James Blake's The Wilhelm Scream. The set stand-out is I Got Burned, during which both ladies share the stage.

Given the thoroughly fun dance set delivered by electronic duo Hermitude, it's a shame that it's delivered in daylight hours. However it is funny watching the sunburnt masses suddenly trying to make the shift. The repeated screams of, “Let's fucken rock!” from one confused, crimson-coloured gentleman – perhaps here an act too early – puncture their performance. Nonetheless, Hermitude quickly get us on board, their set featuring an impressively jazzy keyboard solo and their own remix of Flume's Holdin On.

Le1f. Pic by David Harris.

Kram, Damian and Janet, take the stage to play all of your favourite songs from way back. Calypso makes us mosh, Fucken Awesome makes us happy and Black Betty makes us realise that they had to play it. As seems to be the case with a lot of heritage-listed rock bands, the vibe is taken down a bit with lots of song dedications and stories from the old days. Kram's yarn about the acid trip and bongo drum necklace from a Meredith a thousand years ago is pretty funny though.

Donning a white suit and matching beret, Chic & Nile Rodgers quickly make us realise that their stamp is on a ridiculous amount of hits. From Sister Sledge's We Are Family to Diana Ross' I'm Coming Out to Chic's Everybody Dance and Le Freak, it's a neverending smash hit fest and the Sup' packs out as 8,000 or so people jive as one. And playing a recording of Daft Punk's Get Lucky – which Rodgers co-wrote and put down that distinctive guitar riff on – as the final song of this set proves the sexagenarian is as relevant as ever. 

Sunday

Oliver Tank's chilled music is the perfect way to ease into Meredith's final day. Outstanding visuals not only compliment the set but take it to the next level with Up All Night and his cover of Sounds Of Silence definite highlights. The biggest cheer however goes to the two punters contravening the 'no shoulder rides' policy falling flat on their backs after trying to kick the giant beach ball rolling around the Sup'.

Lachlan Davidson has won the National Mandolin championship three times at the Australian Bluegrass Championships. His brother Hamish also won the Banjo category back in 2009. One good thing about the set is that they know how to put all those hillbilly posers to shame. One not so good thing about Davidson Brothers' set is that banjo and mandolin played at you at a million miles a minute is not necessarily the best remedy to being seriously strung out on a Sunday morning. They do nail the charming, self-deprecating stage banter however.

For obvious reasons, Sunday afternoon draws a less attentive, more subdued crowd and Beaches really enable the hazy, dusty vibe in the Sup'. Their fuzzy sound feeds on the lethargy of the overheated and under-slept. Their single Send Them Away features early, but mingles quietly with the rest of their clanging, meandering set. They perfectly round off a psych-heavy festival line-up, but it's not enough to overshadow the entirely naked, glitter-covered chick who appears to have arrived too early for the Meredith Gift.

Everyone suddenly seems quite unhinged during The UV Race's scrappy, garage set. Keeping in theme with The Gift, the burly Marcus Rechsteiner arrives naked (apart from his jocks), fronting the festival-closing band to a scattered crowd. All the weirdos are still in tow, including a certain grassy, swamp thing that was earlier seen tripping someone over while camouflaged in the grass. However, given their set mournfully signals the end of another brilliant Meredith, it's no wonder people use this last opportunity to get loose.