There's a Kombi blasting 'Love Shack'.
Accidentally catching our reflections in the mirror on Day Four, we immediately wish for a Claptone mask to hide behind.
While entering Central Park, we overhear a punter telling a security guard, "I've got about 20 dingers to get through, so..." - that's an ambitious undertaking for the last day of the year! Then a girl in the coffee queue freaks out, screams and madly shakes her head after discovering a large bright green Christmas beetle has wormed its way into her matted hair. Meanwhile, behind the decks, Rob Anthony capitalises on those who wish to race out of the gates (too) early and party for as many hours as possible before 2017 sneaks in. There's some serious dancing going on to Anthony's heavy, industrial tracks this early arvo and it has to be said that this stage, which typically showcases emerging talent, offers up delights for Beyond The Valley's duration.
"I've got about 20 dingers to get through, so..."
It's great to see staff at Main Stage entrance offering sunscreen to the gazillion punters who head in early to catch Vera Blue (Celia Pavey when off the stage). Pavey would do a cracking Chandelier cover if she hasn't already and wears an upholstery material suit just like Montaigne did yesterday. Pavey's voice is breathtaking, her own pre-recorded BVs always perfectly complementary. A cover of Jack Garratt's Breathe Life effectively showcases her extraordinary vocal range for the first time today. And many assembled are familiar with set closer, Hold.
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One for the 'back in my day' file: single fruit sticks (of the musk stick variety, normal size) can be purchased for 50 cents a pop at a lollie stall in the market area - crikey!
And now Emma Louise also sports a two-piece tailored suit on Main Stage! Hers actually wins over Montaigne's and Vera Blue's, though, 'cause it's in classy, on-trend metallic. She opens with infuriated cut Talk Baby Talk, which is just about as dancey as her music gets. Louise plays a game with audience members, looking directly at individuals to see whether they can tell she's eyeballing them and then chuckling as she realises they often can't tell. Her voice is divine (particularly during Underflow) and she strikes some curious-but-always-photogenic poses. Emma Louise really is a mini-Annie Lennox and we love her!
A new festival fashion trend for the ladies appears to be chunky black belt with a few strips of fabric (maybe even leather?) hanging from it in lieu of skirt (bather bottoms/underwear worn underneath). We only spy one animal onesie this year, though, which is super-encouraging.
Highasakite is very Nordic and dark, which feels odd when we're dancing under the searing heat of the sun.
Next up on Main Stage, Highasakite's singer Ingrid Helene Havik boasts striking, waist-length silvery grey tresses. The sinister Samurai Swords synth underscores Havik's powerful vocals then the arpeggiated chords of Someone Who'll Get It take hold — it's all very Nordic and dark, which feels odd when we're dancing under the searing heat of the sun while being attacked by flies or flying frisbees (not the band's fault). They'd definitely be better suited to Dance Tent. While Golden Ticket shimmers we're a bit nervous Highasakite will actually melt, like vampires in the sun.
Dune Rats host a shoey competition on their stage, after selecting willing participants from the crowd, with the winner scoring a Dunies t-shirt. Their Blister In The Sun cover goes off. Loose AF. And of course there's a spinning marijuana leaf visual on the back screen. They cover Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit with a mystery man on guitar and do a smashing job. One Dune Rat then thanks everyone who's actually selling speed at the festival while trying to pass it off as coke. They really are juvenile, but very entertaining and we definitely get sucked in by their Bullshit.
On the hillside, topless girls 'wearing' glitter courageously free their nipples (why the hell not?). There's also some full-on kick-to-kick footy happening on the periphery. When a football misses its mark and bounces into the VIP Bar, a young lady precision-kicks it back out once awaiting outstretched arms are located.
Exiting the Main Stage area, we hear Love Shack by The B-52s and identify a Kombi parked next to the General Store, with sick speakers placed on the ground in front, as our musical source. Festivalgoers form a spontaneous dancefloor and belt lyrics out enthusiastically, sharing their love for this song. (Later, we witness Farnsie's You're The Voice causing even more mayhem from this very same kombi.)
Up on Central Park stage, Swamp's backdrop proudly announces their band name. This band certainly have what it takes and we chuckle over their lyrics about pulling sickies.
A dude in the grass next to Dance Tent is doing a dog pose, which he perhaps picked up at one of Beyond The Valley's yoga sessions. Inside, MSTRKRFT sound like the inner workings of multi-cog machinery. Hmmm, these dudes need to play after dark to match the selections they deal these days. People are not pumped, but rather resemble zombies shuffling around looking confused.
Back out on Main Stage, Jarryd James sounds pleasant; like day spa reception music when compared with MSTRKRFT!
People resemble zombies shuffling around looking confused.
Back inside Dance Tent, Tokimonsta is very smiley and animated up there, often signing along with lyrics (although not mic-ed). She juggles tracks with completely different tempos, which is too confusing to dance to right now, so it's time to head back to the tent for some warmer clothes that'll see us through the night. In transit, we see a poor little clueless dude — who says he only arrived at Beyond The Valley today — wandering around, lost and unable to remember where his car is parked. A couple of girls are trying to help him, but also shrug and grimace at the passersby.
There's smoke pouring out of Dance Tent to set the scene for Carl Craig up on his pedestal and it sounds like a beehive in here! There's super-fine red lasers and the visuals take on a tile configuration, falling away and building back up again, which reminds us of an Olympic Games opening ceremony card stunt.
Outside on Main Stage, Phantogram's Sarah Barthel coaxes, "Come on, we need to see some titties for this one!" before Fall In Love. A punter flings a black bra onto the stage, which makes Barthel stoked, and then the New Yorkers close with You Don't Get Me High Anymore. "Used to take one/Now it takes four" - many present can undoubtedly relate to these lyrics.
The undisputed winner of Beyond The Valley 2016's most-played tune (including in the campgrounds and spins by actual DJs) is Kanye West's Gold Digger. We've only heard The Lion Sleeps Tonight once this festival, but can it please be put out to pasture for a bit? (We blame Yacht Club DJs.)
During Safia's set, we clock the best doof stick, which is actually a sign complete with a photoshopped kookaburra transformed into "Cooked-a-burra"! Safia include their Led Zeppelin-enhanced song Counting Sheep (with added Stairway To Heaven). Ben Woolner's voice sometimes sounds like Elton John and then Eskimo Joe's Kav Temperley at other times. Being booked this high in the pecking order is a huge achievement for Safia! Could people please stop thinking they can cover Gorillaz, though? Safia's segment of Feel Good Inc leaves us feeling quite the opposite. Listen To Soul, Listen To Blues redeems the band, however, and cranks us up to where we wanna be.
"Oh my god, I feel so fucken sick!"
Beyond The Valley's app alert vibrates so it's time to head back to Dance Tent for Roland Tings. En route, we spy a solo gent napping in the grass and hope he's set an alarm to wake him up before midnight. Tings takes his sweet time warming up, so we wander back down to Main Stage, arriving just in time to see Bowie and then Prince tributes: some of their songs are played as footage/collages grace the giant screen. At 11.51pm a young lady strides by announcing, "Oh my god, I feel so fucken sick!" There's some unfortunate silence wedges and we're tempted to hightail it back to Dance Tent, but Sticky Fingers eventually stride out on stage. They play one song as we (and then they) watch a countdown on the stage's cyclorama. "Happy New Year, Muthafucker!" their frontman Dylan Frost yells and then there's fireworks, confetti and streamers. Ticker tape even rains down on those at the very top of the hill - that's some reach as we race back to Tings. He's still in the building/foundation stages. Watching munters try to volley giant beach balls in assorted colours (more often than not missing the target) proves hilarious, but we're after more than this - it's peak time! - some relocate once more.
Catching Sticky Fingers out on Main Stage performing Gold Snafu really is spesh: "I see the sunrise getting high/I wish I was next to you!" - such a chirpy, exultant song that promised so much for this band who now face an uncertain future.
On our way back to the campsite, we pass a lonely, discarded green glow stick by a rubbish bin beside a drained flask size (read: smuggle size) bottle of Smirnoff. And as we drift away to the sounds of (not-so-distant) doof and firecrackers(?), we reckon it's probably too late to dream up any New Year's resolutions.