Live Review: Big Day Out

After 20 years of Big Days Out at Gold Coast Parklands it's vaguely surreal entering the new layout at Metricon Stadium and surrounds, but it soon proves to be the perfect locale for such an event with no real logistical dramas to speak of, good sound everywhere and easy access to all stages and amenities. To top it off it's a gorgeous Queensland summer day, slightly on the warm side but with plenty of shaded areas readily available this doesn't prove to be an issue whatsoever for the sizable crowd slowly taking over the region.

It's great to see local lads DZ Deathrays back on the big stage, once again proving that they can sound massive in this setting given the chance.While the crowd is small and the heat is extreme, they still turn in a spirited performance. We get a couple of new songs from their just-completed second LP, but it's the older tracks like No Sleep and Teenage Kickstarts that go down best. 

A massive crowd has turned out early to show their support for local rock legends Violent Soho, who repay the favour by putting in a behemoth of a performance. They open with Dope Calypso and fire up the crowd surfers from the get-go, and thousands of people scream the words back to tracks like Love Is A Heavy Word, Neighbour Neighbour and Jesus Stole My Girlfriend. The whole tent goes ballistic for Covered In Chrome – it's so great seeing the boys basking in the adulation they so richly deserve.

Loon Lake frontman Sam Nolan is quite a lovable larrikin onstage with his band of bros and mates, though for a moment the mood is a little sombre as he dedicates crowd favourite Cherry Lips to a father they ran into at the airport who had lost a daughter to cancer, though it's a beautiful touch that makes him all the more endearing. A cover of Amy Winehouse's Valery is a fun, peppy boost of crowd morale even though the music from the rides outside creates a weird in-between-song dynamic throughout the set.

Portugal. The Man frontman John Baldwin Gourley is in full Souljacker mode with his hood over and sunglasses on. The tunes are probably even warmer than he is though – they play So American and Hip Hop Kids and the lucid guitars soundtrack a lie down on the grass far too well. There's nothing much to look at on the stage visual-wise, but the songs speak for themselves, and the main stage “sound vs. wind battle” of Parklands Big Day Outs gone is now a distant memory.

It doesn't take long for the Boiler Room to get kicking, with Peking Duk serving up a heavy dose of their Australian brand of house music. The excessive heat doesn't stop some from an early exorcism of their dance-coloured desires, and the floor gets quite busy as favourites Feels Like and The Way You Are roll out the punches.

The five-piece Toro Y Moi look very cool today, but not half as cool as they sound. Squelchy synth funk breezes through the sparsely populated tent that houses the Red Stage, as the few in attendance get grooving pretty hard to the band's part-classic/part-futuristic funk. The soft rock aping New Beat is particularly appreciated when it drops 3/4 of the way through the set.

It's kinda incongruous seeing The Drones in a tent during daylight hours given their nocturnal bent, but as always they bring their A game and deliver a stream of brilliant tracks such as The Best You Can Believe In, How To See Through Fog and their own festival banger The Minotaur. Frontman Gareth Liddiard revels in the intensity he brings to all he touches, and their pummeling version of I Don't Ever Want To Change sets the bar high for all who follow.

What heat? Now, it's all black uniforms for The Naked & Famous – have we not heard about the industrial strength air-conditioning that's looking after the artists onstage? The Kiwis start off moody – the electronica side of their sound more prominent – pumping out the massive tune Punching In A Dream, then proceed to work through a set of old and new, with the good shit off their first record (All Of This; Young Blood) still garnering the best response.

Thrusting Aussie rockers Kingswood hit all the rights spots, charming all and sundry with banter encouraging the crowd to kiss their neighbouring punters and offering a surprise set highlight with Wolf by Swedish sisters First Aid Kit that is introduced by way of Dolly Parton's Jolene. The cover suits both vocalist Fergus Linacre's style and the band's alt-country flavours remarkably well, before the wailing riffage of Medusa further blows minds. 

It seems that Tame Impala can do no wrong as far as Australia's collective mindset goes, and this performance does little to disrupt the consensus. As if some kind of modern rock messiah, a barefoot Kevin Parker leads his band through the blistering sun in the most confident and relaxed manner. A blissful wash of psychedelic rock is sewn through each aural offering, their set abundant in gems, with favourites Desire Be Desire Go, Feels Like We Only Go Backwards, and Apocalypse Dreams shining on through the blinding light.

The Algorithm have the most brutal sound you're likely to hear today. And they're just two guys. And they're super polite Frenchmen. And they have no guitar. It's a mixer and a tech metal drummer, battling each other, creating the soundtrack to a futuristic war that we're yet to experience. The skills on show are formidable, but the guys still know how to have fun; you gotta laugh when they drop in the sax snippet of George Michael's Careless Whisper.

Sydney indie dance trio RüFüS cannot put a foot wrong in a set showcasing last year's breakthrough debut album Atlas. Rocking a Violent Soho muscle-tee, frontman Tyrone Lindqvist inspires a sea of girl-on-shoulders action with an emotive vocal as the set hits the big tracks Take Me and the resplendent percussion finale of Desert Night. The golden pipes of Brisbane songstress Tara Simmons add some inspired dynamics mid-set as she lets fully loose with the command of the crowd at the end of her fingertips.    

The utter dismay caused by the cancellation of Harvest Festival is somewhat counter-balanced for Primus fans as the Yokel-voiced virtuosos bust their way through a generous helping of bass-laden grooves. With over 14 years of accumulated history, this particular incarnation of the band is extremely well-gelled, and they really display it. New cut Lee Van Cleef shows they can still write 'em, however, it's hard for new material to really stand out when it's neighboured by a slew of classics including Jerry Was a Race Car Driver,  My Name Is Mud and Wynona's Big Brown Beaver.

With the squalling high notes of co-front couple Hannah Hooper and Christian Zucconi audible from other tents, Grouplove are vocal about bringing an element of high energy to the afternoon; though the primarily keys- and percussion-based newbie Biting The Bullet falls a little flat, Tongue Tied kickstarts the indie pop fun again and Borderlines And Aliens tips it over as the crowd yells back the popular refrain of “Ari-ari-ari-gato, gato!” The slow acoustic burn of closer Colours builds to a most pleasing mix of harmonies as skipping girls move to other stages.

Cosmic Psychos arrive proactively dressed in matching t-shirts bearing custom bikie colours – a wicked dig at Queensland's controversial association laws – and after a brilliant opening gambit of Pub into Nice Day To Go To The Pub deliver a veritable greatest hits extravaganza; I'm Up You're Out, Custom Credit, Go The Hack, Back In Town and Lost Cause highlights of a hellraising set. Guitarist Mad Macka offers a rippling gut solo before they end with the traditional mooning of the crowd – those butts never get old.

Swedish rockers The Hives are typically sartorially resplendent in matching suits – a brave move given the oppressive afternoon sun smashing them on the main stage – but they deliver a strong performance which gets the large crowd involved, consummate frontman Howlin' Pelle Almqvist firing them up as the band crunch through Main Offender, Wait A Minute, Die, All Right! and Walk Idiot Walk. The riffs just keep coming like an unrelenting wave of rock, and they finish a strong showing with a rollicking Tick Tick Boom.

Considering one of Mudhoney's more well-known songs Suck You Dry was released on their third album in 1992, they're looking remarkably fresh and spunky as frontman Mark Arm spits the lyrics of the early set highlight that also showcases that trademark thick-fuzz bass we've come to know and love. Touch Me I'm Sick inspires some 40+ demographic crowdsurfing as one of many extended solos loosens limbs before I'm Now sees Arm hamming up the stage antics with thrusts and death stares to prove he's still got the moves.  

The Headspace Stage is packed out for Kerser's set, with the solid little fanbase hanging off his every rhyme. With DJ and backing rapper in tow, he motors through a varied selection of bombastic tracks that really keep the crowd on their toes. His greatest success, Kerser Is The Sickest, is saved for last, and a frenzied response gives way to an excited mass singalong. He comes out for an encore, but it seems the people are already satisfied with what they came for, and the dwindling crowd is rather non-plussed at the MCs brief re-emergence.   

For all its current hype, trap music still remains an outsider strain of dance in this country, but aint nobody told Flosstradamus, with the hip pair putting a genuine afternoon exclamation mark on the Boiler Room, sending body rocking beats out that shoot straight for the hip. PLURNT (peace, love, unity, respect, now twerk...) partying is taking place all around us, and with plenty of microphone hype it's hard not to kick up the dust a little.

Sporting a short hooligan cut, Liam Gallagher holds his iconic pose centre stage, as Beady Eye knock out staggering Britrock with minimal smiles but plenty of emotion. Early tunes such as Four Letter Word are solid, however, they don't hold a flame to Oasis classics like Rock 'n' Roll Star and Morning Glory. Closing with a cover of the Stones' Gimme Shelter earns them plenty of love, too. Could have been a car crash, turned out to be something pretty special.

Rising Americana darlings The Lumineers pull a massive crowd over at the Red Stage tent, their fervent followers lapping up songs like Ain't Nobody's Problem before going absolutely mental when they throw hit single Ho Hey in quite early in proceedings, although the band diffuse this somewhat by stopping halfway through to admonish the crowd for their collective use of mobile phones to capture the performance. They're soon back underway and a faithful rendition of Dylan's Subterranean Homesick Blues and a strong run through of Charlie Boy prove standout moments of their remaining time.

The guitar solo hits its high note, a stick spins skyward, riffs and roars connect, and all we see are the new kings of Australian metal absolutely tearing things apart. Northlane are nice young guys making impossibly technical and heavy music somehow accessible, and with plenty of fists raised and breakdowns dropped they show why their latest record Singularity – thanks to tracks like Quantum Theory – flipped the local scene on its head in 2013.

Right off the bat of recently been awarded position number 73 on the infamous DJ Mag Top 100 poll, Dillon Francis is in high spirits and not about to let the clash with festival favourites lessen the celebratory mood of his set. He lets a barrage of trap and moombahton loose, giving a nod to festival friends Major Lazer with the Diplo collaboration Que Que, and airing recent favourite Without You. Visually he unleashes his comedic side, with photoshopped images incorporating his head flooding the Boiler Room's massive screens. And to top of the excess of fun, and reinvigorate a few broken hearts, he throws Blur's Song 2 into the mix.

In what appears to be an unfortunate programming oversight, CSS gracefully deal with an Arcade Fire clash and the small Headspace stage generally reserved for small local acts and competition winners by being sweet, funky and simply a whole lot of fun. The Brazillian beauties bounce around the stage, dedicating songs to dogs and setting suns, delighting the casually seated punters with highlights City Girrrl and Cats.

Arcade Fire are practically perfect tonight; but do they belong here? With personnel onstage reaching double figures at times, the band slog through their soaring indie rock to a mix of enthused and disinterested punters. RunningThe Suburbs directly into Ready To Start gets everyone amped up, Afterlife and the excellent Reflektor show their new enviable rhythmic nous and whenSprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains) hits just as darkness sets in it's a pretty perfect moment. It's a great show, but with so much dumb rock (and that's a term of endearment) before and after the band today, one wonders if they're the right fit for this BDO.

Vista Chino only seem content looking to the horizon, and their thick brand of desert rock transforms the Essential Stage into an intimate generator party for those few in the know. Even though they've got 2013 record Peace to plug, Garcia, Bjork and the boys know what we itching for, and more than oblige us with plenty of Kyuss classics that send the devoted front rows wild.

It's staggering to think Pearl Jam are a 24-year institution, such is the energy and sheer joy they bring to the stage. Eddie Vedder's voice has aged as well as the red wine he's sipping, and when Mike McCready solos with his guitar over his head you're frozen in awe. The tracklist is incredible: 27 songs, two encores; Hail Hail, Corduroy, Even Flow, Rearviewmirror, Jeremy. And us locals are plenty proud when surfing sons Occy and Mick Fanning get up and shake their thing, before the Seattle legends close with a celebratory cover of Neil Young's Rockin' In The Free World.

Swedish metallers Ghost have an unenviable slot against some of the festival's big guns but still turn in one of the event's most theatrical sets to a small but committed crowd. The cowled band enter the fray first looking like some twisted order of guitar-toting monks, but their impact is dwarfed when frontman Papa Emeritus regally enters the fray looking all the world like the Pope if the Pope lived in hell and worshipped Satan. Visuals aside the band deal in strong, doomy riffs and the songs impact hard, even if they start seeming slightly one-dimensional after a while.

It's a trip through the life and career of Snoop Dogg tonight, opening with Here Comes The King from last year's Snoop Lion Reincarnated record and going way back to Doggystyle cuts from 20 years ago like Gin & Juice and Who Am I? (What's My Name?). It's a wonderful party as Snoop drops his verses from Dre's Let's Get High and The Next Episode, 50 Cent's P.I.M.P. and Akon's I Wanna Love You (I Wanna Fuck You), dedicated to the ladies of the Gold Coast.

Steve Angello, one third of Swedish House Mafia, commands a one-third-full Boiler Room to close tonight – a funny coincidence. Those who make the effort are rewarded massively though with a big, stupid big room house show replete with pyrotechnics, streamer cannons, mass smoke blasts and an incredible light show. This is one hell of a production. He drops everything from Evereything But The Girl's 1994 pop smash Missing to Sebastian Ingrosso& Tommy Trash's Reload from 2012 to Eurythmics' 1983 new wave anthem Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) and keeps the energy pumping despite the poor attendance.

In a set heavily-laden with tracks from their latest record Koi No Yokan, Deftones are in superb shape as they cater for swooning girls and metal heads alike. Rosemary delivers a skull-penetrating kick drum from Abe Cunningham, atmospheric deck work from Frank Delgado and frontman Chino Moreno's wistful vocal that turns readily to all-out aggression as oldies RX Queen and My Own Summer (Shove It) are unleashed. It's rare to see the Sacramento quintet out of form these days, though their reliance on the punishing one-two finale of Engine Number 9 followed by 7 Words from their 1995 debut could do with a refresh.

While at times it seems that their questionable gender politics are perhaps left to squaller in the trash, Major Lazer certainly know how to bring a party home, and prove to be a fitting choice as festival closers. Dense slabs of bass pervade the space as a busy display of visual stimulus floods a stage manned on either side by oversized inflatable Major Lazer mascots. An asinine aura threatens the mood as Bubble Butt gives way to Mac Miller being called onstage to receive his congratulatory birthday twerking and face-grinding, but all is recovered, and a sample of The Prodigy's Breathe soon gives way to one last lengthy onslaught of cheerfully threatening indulgence in bass and beats. 

So as the first Big Day Out in these new digs winds down everyone seems happy and contented as they shuffle out into the surrounding darkness, satiated by a day and night of diverse and top-notch music and the perfect chance to get loose with friends and loved ones. What more can ya ask for?