Live Review: Falls Festival

Saturday

People are stupid, observation one: There's a driver with L plates negotiating Deans Marsh Road, one of the world's most winding roads with constantly changing speed limits.

Only Grand Theatre on top of the hill is open for this first night of entertainment and already there's a punter dressed as Mr Squiggle wandering around. 'Double Penetration' beat 'Slapper & Player' in the Legs Akimbo-led dance-off. This novelty duo from the UK's wacky interactive games are not as well-received as they were last year. Ben Scott and Amy Bee Sting probably should have varied up their repertoire considering Falls is definitely a festival for repeat offenders.

Flip flops worn sideways around calves is a definite festi look for the gents. Now who's that bespectacled frill-necked lizard/Running Man enthusiast onstage? That would be Mr Bruce from London duo The Correspondents and they certainly bring something unique. You've probably heard their track What Happened To Soho?.

Someone needs to bring quality control in when it comes to Baby Burgers. The buns have changed and one needs a magnifying glass to spot the halloumi. It's wise of Legs Akimbo to change it up and just bang out party tunes to get us suitably limbered up for Clairy Browne & The Bangin' Rackettes. A Bohemian Rhapsody sing-along proves the most popular of everything Legs Akimbo initiate tonight. When Browne and co hit the stage, an icy wind has picked up and revellers are eager to bust a move. Love Letter is still their standout track, by several postcodes. This ensemble has thrilled before, on many occasions, but there's a spark missing from this evening's performance. One Banana In Pyjamas in the crowd, plus a full set of Power Rangers on shoulders, distracts from what's happening onstage. Time for Clairy Browne & The Bangin' Rackettes to step up. And they've been around long enough now to have perfected that chorey. Even Browne herself could use some time in front of a mirror since her moves call to mind a dancing zombie. In fact, the cheesy DJ that follows (Hot Dub Time Machine) earns a more decent reaction from the crowd with his predictable selection of bangers from yonderyear (think Blur's Song 2, Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes and Beyoncé's Crazy In Love).

Drifting off to sleep accompanied by Late Night Tuff Guy's sometimes techno other times house-tinged selection almost conjures enough desire for us to abandon sleeping bags, get dressed again and board the VIP shuttle back to the festival site. Almost.

Sunday

Being woken up by impatient commuters stuck in car queues who are heavy on their horns isn't exactly pleasant.

Day two our focus is directed solely toward Valley Stage and during the annual Welcome To Country, some of the Falls rubbish collectors jump at the chance to skive off/get involved in The Show-Off (or Muck-Up) Dance. Early peakers create a hoedown in front of Sydney's Little Bastard, who should not be confused with Melbourne's La Bastard. Little Bastard are definitely worth a look.

There's always a couple of really built dudes wearing dresses at Falls. And genuine mullets. It's never too early for harmonica, especially when Ambrose Kenny-Smith's mouth's wrapped around it. Not to mention this multi-talented The Murlocs' frontman's distinctive, almost androgynous vocal. This quintet prove they're right up there with associated band King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard. Listen to Tee Pee if you require evidence. Not so sure about Kenny-Smith's, “Cheers, cunts,” sign-off, though.

The Smith Street Band are an inferior Aussie take on The Pogues. Singer Wil Wagner, who is obviously a Billy Bragg fan, observes, “We're all here to drink, smoke pot and have sex with each other”. He later downs a “shoey” filled with lemon and lime UDL.

Genius quote of the festival: “How good is walking DOWNhill?” Tom Odell is a bit James Blunt. The musicians fuck up a lot individually and Odell is as annoying live as in his promo shots. He even dares to tackle Honky Tonk Women. Another Love sees punters bounding down the hillside to get involved. Who sang The Whole Of The Moon? The Waterboys. Well, Odell sounds like their singer, Mike Scott.

Festivalgoers this year pack BYO glitter in their pockets for instant wow-factor in the mosh. Owl Eyes comes alive for Golden Lies, which is effervescent live. There's also a song that sounds one keyboard note away from Fleetwood Mac's Everywhere.

Probably the largest crowd we've seen up to this point is lured before Valley Stage to attend London Grammar. Many in attendance sing knowingly along with Wasting My Younger Years. The trio are visibly chuffed and leading lady Hannah Reid – dressed like a Mormon librarian in a cream turtle neck, maxi shirt and with her hair up in a tight topknot – admits this is the biggest crowd they've ever performed in front of. Multi-instrumentalist and 1D Harry lookalike Dot Major gazes out at the congregation assembled in this natural amphitheatre, absolutely in awe. Reid goes so far as to say this show is a highlight from their career to date. Even though they're not usually permitted at festivals, London Grammar return to the stage to perform an encore cover of Chris Isaak's Wicked Game. London Grammar's debut set in our country will be long talked about.

Solange (pronounced as if an 'r' follows the 'a', it doesn't rhyme with flange after all) takes the stage in a red playsuit that incorporates culottes with a seam slicing up the centre-front that's beyond unflattering. She is devastatingly beautiful, just like her sister, and models an explosion of minuscule brunette braids in her hair that are long enough to just about skim her booty. Losing You sees revellers collectively bliss-out. Some of Solange's backing band members are funky and take inspiration from The Roots with their synchronised dance moves. But there's something missing from Solange's performance and her stage persona is cold, which is probably accentuated on this occasion by previous band London Grammar's endearing demeanours.

Tonight's weather forecast suggests we're rocketing down towards six degrees so it's time to put on every garment we've packed. Returning in time for MGMT issues a clear reminder that these Brooklyn cats don't give a fuck and emerge as definite contenders for Most Boring Live Act. Andrew VanWyngarden claims they are having fun up there, which makes it difficult to imagine how they come across when they're NOT having fun. Two dressed up punters – a cow and an impressive attempt at The Moon from The Mighty Boosh, complete with surrounding fairy-light constellation – take the stage for some percussion and this adds a little bit of interest, but MGMT merely go through the motions.

What we're all REALLY holding out for is The Roots. And we have high hopes of hip-hostage situations courtesy of the house band from Late Night With Jimmy Fallon. Their musicianship is beyond compare and Kool & The Gang's Jungle Boogie takes us there, but there are a lot of self-indulgent wig-outs. Sousaphone player Tuba Gooding Jr (aka Damon Bryson) boogies enthusiastically while wearing his ginormous instrument and you'd swear it weighed the same as a child's empty backpack. Questlove's drum solo cranks into devastating instrumentation, but the flurries of brilliance are spaced a little too far apart within this one-and-a-half hour set so a decision is made to head back to camp and rest up for day three. A nearby, tent-bound commuter sums up The Roots: “They're taking the piss.” Thankfully a spontaneous car stereo party in the wee hours lasts for one song by The Cure only before the party rockers are silenced.

Monday

It's New Year's Eve Eve! Both stages are now open and Oliver Tank brings his special brand of comedown music to Valley Stage for those who wish to wallow. Asta follows, channelling a fish'n'chip shop door curtain in her disco streamer ensemble. The Unearthed Tasmanian proclaims, “This has been the best gig of my life so far,” and based on her striking stage appearance and the quality of this young artist's songs she is destined for big things.

There's a Gary Clark Jr vibe to Hanni El Khatib's shtick and more than one observer labels him San Francisco's Dan Sultan. Up the hill in Grand Theatre, the heads are packed in for the festival's comedy program. But the area unfortunately clears before The War On Drugs hit the stage. Bet those “No Urinating” signs along Grand Theatre's barriers do the trick (not). The War On Drugs' opener goes for a meandering ten minutes, but it's all pleasurable. The Philly foursome play in an introverted, but never disinterested, fashion. Pity it's not possible to listen to this band while sitting outside in the sunshine.

A sparse population gathers to watch Emma Louise back down in Valley Stage and a baby in VIP's eyes light up as it's jiggled around to Jungle, which may or may not be a compliment. Next up, White Denim's dirty riffs are enough to make you shart. When and where is their sideshow? See ya there.

Overheard convo en route to Chet Faker: “Is this it? No Diggity?” Faker pulls a massive crowd and plays a song that apparently none of us would ever have heard before – 1998? The song title is definitely a year. What a belter! Get thee to the dancefloor. Faker offers something the world needs, however the rest of his set is a snoozefest and he totally should have worked out a way to play Drop The Game, his latest Flume collab single, live.

Pond embody every note they lay down and at one point Nick Allbrook appears to be playing a pink crack pipe. They are spontaneity nailed and nothing could break their cool. Pond dive into Deep Purple territory throughout their set and are not only fantastic to hear, they're also a delight to watch. Fantastic Explosion Of Time pretty much sums it up and these guys have the potential for worldwide adoration. It's adorable to see Kevin Parker from shared-member band Tame Impala posing with a group of rapt fans for new Facebook profile pics on his way to the VIP bar.

The trick to lasting the distance at Falls Festival is to choose an act to sacrifice around the 8pm mark since a change into Michelin Man attire is essential. Back down on Valley Stage, Neil Finn opens with Split Enz's History Never Repeats. His backing band utilises many Finns: wife Sharon, sons Liam and Elroy. Neil Finn slips in a couple of solo songs from his upcoming album, but what we really want are the hits and sing-alongs don't get much better than Crowded House's Better Be Home Soon, which Finn performs solo to close. The DJ then kicks straight in with Ginuwine's Pony while Finn looks flustered at the mic trying to communicate something to the crowd. Strangely, he then jumps behind the kit and pelts away his frustration for a bit.

Crystal Fighters are WAY out there. Frontman Sebastian Pringle resembles a cross between Tiny Tim and Alex Ebert (Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros' frontman), and he bangs on about reality being the present and other such trippy musings. It's a bit Eurovision, one of the hairy male band members goes topless (not hot) and Love Is All I Got rouses the hillside.

Whether or not The Wombats are your thang, the Liverpudlian threesome certainly bring it live. The whole crowd pogo along to their hits such as Tokyo (Vampires & Wolves), Jump Into The Fog and new single Your Body Is A Weapon. Lead singer Matthew Murphy needs to reassess wearing his hair long though, since he's obviously self-conscious about those Friar Tuck follicles. The band's sporadic, closing freak-out makes us miss The Vines.

Staying awake for !!! (Chk Chk Chk)'s 1.10am timeslot is challenging considering today's music program kicked off at 11am, but man are we glad we paced ourselves. For the first time so far, we dance not only to keep warm but also because that bass simply demands it. Band leader Nic Offer gyrates directly over the video camera while wearing shorts, which translates hilariously to the giant screens, and he sure embraces those spirit fingers. “Once you get that rhythm right,” you'll be hooked. En route to the VIP shuttle, many munters try to coerce dancing feet into Grand Theatre, but there's still an energy requirement for New Year's Eve revelry.

Tuesday

It's day four and the kookaburras' cackling wake-up calls now seem all-knowing.

The Preatures perform a new song Isabella Manfredi introduces as Looking For on Valley Stage, which starts off slow before the grunt kicks in. The band's closing cover of Stranded by The Saints is a ripper, perfectly showcasing both the male and female vocalists' snarling prowess. It's not quite hot enough for Manfredi's self-initiated wet T-shirt (yep, it's white) competition, though. She doesn't need to do that.

The hills are the opposite of alive for Johnny Marr, but those in attendance are thrilled by a performance that draws generously from The Smiths catalogue: Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before, Bigmouth Strikes Again and There Is A Light That Never Goes Out plus more. Marr's filthy guitar tone vibrates loudly across the natural amphitheatre. He makes various remarks about the lack of attendees, but, post-show, Marr happily poses for happy snaps with fans.

Bonobo sounds like kaleidoscopes manipulated by just the right amounts of sunshine and gentle breeze. He plays as much live instrumentation as humanly possible while sampling and twiddling knobs, which is admirable. The best moments are dancey and we get restless during ballads, most of which are sung by the female guest vocalist, Szjerdene. So it's time to trek up the hill for Citizen Kay. A dude wearing a crocodile g-string (only) is spotted lining up pashes on the hill way before midnight. Recruiting a drummer proves a crisp addition and this Canberra MC claims he's been practising air piano for three years before demonstrating. He's a likeable character and Raise A Glass was one of 2013's best Aussie hip hop singles.

Oh no! The winter woollies retrieval cost us Blister In The Sun! Who woulda thunk Violent Femmes would open with it? There are a lot of conversations happening throughout the lesser-known songs, but Gone Daddy Gone sounds awesome and it's fun seeing our very own Jack Howard (Hunners) up there blowing his trumpet. Spencer P Jones is also part of this Violent Femmes touring line-up.

Vampire Weekend wouldn't be this reviewer's choice of soundtrack to herald in the New Year, so it's unsurprising to learn this is the first time they've been booked to do so. Their music may be twee, but Ezra Koenig and co do liven up the atmosphere somewhat. The curse of the countdown continues when the band leaves the stage and momentum is lost as the visual countdown is set up for the giant screens. Ten… nine… eight… Happy New Year! Some flares are let off and when Vampire Weekend return to the stage, Koenig advises that some of their equipment was damaged as a result. Way to kill the vibe!  

Hermitude ably punctuate our first ascent up the killer hill for 2014. Falls is never just about the music, it's the up-for-it punters and treasured memories just waiting to be created that make it well worth repeat visits. This year, Falls Festival Lorne's 21st, is no exception.