Live Review: Big Day Out

Driving to the Big Day Out eliminates experiencing the atmosphere generated by excited hordes of fans on what has become for many the traditional train ride to Flemington Racecourse. More than making up for this are three unbelievably excited young ladies who, passing through the under-18 gate just ahead of us, loudly squeal “The party starts now” with elation once wristbanded. Melbourne band ME, who have been spending a lot of time in Europe recently, are putting the finishing touches on their closing song as we walk past the main stages. It's lush and thoughtfully complex, filling us with anticipation for a possible launch of their forthcoming album, Even The Odd Ones Out. The vibe on the ground is light and celebratory. There is an angsty noise coming from the Red Stage and fairly predictable psytrance seems to have the Boiler Room cooking. Resplendent in sailor suits, The Stiffys are rocking The Lilypad with ditties about their favourite stiffys. This year the crowd is balanced out by a mix of older and younger punters, all buoyed by the prospect of experiencing some wonderful live music. The more patriotic amongst us come draped in flags, reminding us that it is, after all, Australia Day.

Only the final two songs of Auckland's Avalanche City are spied before the set's conclusion. There's a large contingent of Kiwi expats and admirers of finely-crafted pop tunes assembling. Hands clap, lovers kiss and frontman Dave Baxter is genuinely chuffed.

On an eclectic line-up Every Time I Die are possibly the heaviest act on the bill. “These aren't usually the conditions we play in,” says singer Keith Buckley. “We don't usually play outdoors [at] a festival and a very expensive ticket price, so thank you.” Their set is littered with cussing, middle fingers in the air and running around in circles. They're out of their depth early, but as the crowd slowly fills out and they start to favour more melodic songs such as We'rewolf, they show some merit as a festival band.

Florida punk band Against Me! draw the curiosities of many, as transgender singer Laura Jane Grace takes to the stage in faux-leather pants and shoulder-length hair. They race through 14 songs in their allocated time, rarely drawing breath or conversing with their audience. With so many recurring lyrical themes, many songs bleed into the next, while new songs, particularly the unreleased Osama Bin Laden As The Crucified Christ raise eyebrows.

Taking to the stage and performing with a no fuss almost business-like attitude, guitar wizard Gary Clark Jr just concentrates on pumping out his inspired take on bluesy rock. Starting with When My Train Pulls In, it soon gives way to an extended psychedelic solo rounded out with the kind of spaced-out feedback that sounds like it is straight out of the Hendrix songbook. The adoring crowd slips into guitar hero worship mode as Clark dispenses tunes from his acclaimed Blak And Blu album. His mellow falsetto on Please Come Home produces an easy feelgood vibe and is a highlight before he again works up a sweat over yet another awe-inspiring solo. Dude can shred.

A debonair Phil Jamieson leads Grinspoon in what is a greatest hits set spanning their 18-year career. Unlike recent tours from their contemporaries that may have come off as last gasps, their set is significant. More Than You Are, Champion and DCx3 are clear highlights, and their latest album, Black Rabbits, released less than four months ago, barely gets a look in, with only Passerby played.

Entrance of the day (at least by this timeslot) goes to JEFF The Brotherhood's Jake Orrall who, with the assistance of a wireless guitar, sneaks out the side of stage unnoticed and strolls down the slope to the left of the Green Stage into the crowd. He arrives at the stage leading a bunch of rabid fans and their camera-phones, and from there he and brother Jamin go to town on their unique brand of three-stringed stoner rock.

Modestly introducing themselves as music (and possibly also beard) enthusiasts, Band Of Horses give us an immaculate set of country-flavoured rock that is easily filed away under the Americana banner. Ben Bridwell's sincerely delivered vocals etch out the sweetest melodies and the rest of the band simply soar around him with majestic arrangements. No One's Gonna Love You and The Funeral are highlights on a setlist filled with back-catalogue favorites.

Seth Sentry's part nerdy, part nostalgic take on Australian hip hop sees the Red Tent, suitably endorsed by the national youth broadcaster, at capacity. He plays fan favourites Float Away and Dear Science, which later in the day take out positions 57 and 26 respectively on the Hottest 100. His set is full of energy and improvised banter, making the awful sound problems somewhat bearable. 

OFF! begin their set right on 4.50pm. By 5pm they've already played five songs. At 57 years of age, former Black Flag and Circle Jerks singer Keith Morris is in fine form, racing about the stage and jumping off risers with a youthful exuberance. He jokes that drummer Mario Rubalcaba, who was in Australia just months ago playing with both Hot Snakes and Earthless at Golden Plains, is now an honorary citizen and schools the Green Stage on punk rock, with a moving tribute to late Gun Club songwriter Jeffrey Lee Pierce.

New York City's Vampire Weekend use their late-afternoon set, and the odd burst of sunshine, to start a dance party in the D-Barrier. There are plenty of hands in the air, and almost as many girls on shoulders, with everyone in fine spirits (especially those who have managed to smuggle their cans and hip flasks of booze in). A “Happy Australia Day” leads into Holiday, and with hits like Cousins, Oxford Comma and Mansard Roof, there are smiles everywhere.

Locals The Smith Street Band are an inspired choice for Australia Day. Frontman Wil Wagner, in native accent, spits youthful vitriol of being young and free, with a nonchalant nod to literary heroes Paul Kelly, Nick Cave and Roland S Howard. His affection for the crowd is reciprocated, as the band race through songs off each of their records. Closing with Sigourney Weaver, this won't be the last festival the group play in 2013.

Easily one of the most hyped bands of 2012, Alabama Shakes prove that all the hype is justified with a short but electrifying set of songs from their debut Boys And Girls. Drawing inspiration from the timeless influence of the blues, R&B, gospel, soul, and rock and roll, The Shakes' sweet tunes put a smile on everyone's face. Vocalist and guitarist, Brittany Howard may look like a mild-mannered librarian or office clerk but when singing she commands the stage and our complete attention. The sadness and heartbreak of Howard's lyrics belie her somewhat tender age. Her husky, liquor-stained howl has a hard edge that would give even Janis Joplin a run for her money. Definitely one of the most satisfying sets of the day.

It may have been just for those standing towards the back of the D-Barrier, but Yeah Yeah Yeahs don't quite capture the crowd as expected. Sure, during hits like Gold Lion and Heads Will Roll there are plenty of cheers, and new song Mosquito from their forthcoming album is great, but the set falls a little flat. Karen O gives her all, but whether or not it's that their sound gets caught in the wind, the YYY experience feels a little underwhelming.

Much like Grinspoon earlier in the day, Bodyjar too opt for a greatest hits hour. Their on-again off-again career slightly devalues their standing, though their setlist is all hits. Their cover of Descendents' Coolidge highlights just how inspired they are by the Californian skate punk scene, while a favoured version of Paul Simon's Hazy Shade Of Winter is a welcome break. 

Pulling their angular indie dance moves, Foals keep well away from all the usual conventions and come with a somewhat experimental punkish edge. Playing material off their new album Holy Fire, tunes like My Number and Inhaler seem to delight fans. Older songs such as Balloons and Two Steps, Twice receive an even more enthusiastic response, inducing the indie dance crowd to energetically bump and grind throughout their set.

They take to the stage ten minutes late, but within seconds of launching into Mr Brightside there is not a person in the crowd that isn't in raptures over The Killers. Fronted by the very well-tanned, well-groomed and bloody talented Brandon Flowers, the band play through their (massive) string of hits like Human, Somebody Told Me and the excellent Spaceman.

The Essential Stage is awash with Aussie blokes and sheilas atop one another's shoulders, and a sea of hands bouncing in time for 360. “Happy fucking Australia Day ya cunts!” the man whose friends call Matthew James Colwell shouts, to a predictable eruption of applause. 360 owns the stage and his legions of devoted fans sing along to every line. Even those unfamiliar with his work still belt out the choruses of his mega hits Run Alone and Boys Like You.

Crystal Castles seek to set things straight in the Boiler Room with a mind-bending explosion of electro punk beats and grinding synth arpeggiation from behind a veil of thick smoke and intense strobe lights. Seemingly possessed, a little like Linda Blair, Alice Glass stalks the stage aggressively screaming and caterwauling through much of the set. The pumped-up crowd bounce and pogo with an intensity that matches Crystal Castles delivery of their tunes. Baptism unleashes utter mayhem but the short 40-minute set leaves many wishing they'd play for much longer.

After a brief digital presentation from Sea Shepherd, for which singer Anthony Kiedis is on the board of directors, Red Hot Chili Peppers bounce on stage. Five years since last in the country, it's as if nothing has changed, as a topless acrobatic Flea hunches over his bass and Kiedis grips his microphone in a two-handed embrace. Opener Monarchy Of Roses gets things off to a slow start, before their set truly begins with Dani California. Interjecting the classics with extended funk jams of slap bass, excessive percussion fills, or lesser known tracks such as Meet Me At The Corner and a questionable cover of David Bowie's What In The World, waiting for the hits is tedious, but they eventually deliver them in spades. Taking the good with the bad, their set includes Otherside, Under The Bridge, Suck My Kiss, Californication and a rousing encore rendition of Give It Away.

Only a small coterie of fans gather for Animal Collective's strange set of psychedelic electronic experimentation that is the complete antithesis of what is transpiring on the main stage, where Red Hot Chili Peppers are performing. The quartet have transformed the stage into a gigantic mouth with large LED-lit teeth at the front and a spiraling oesophagus behind them. It is a reference to the cover of last year's somewhat underwhelming Centipede Hz, which they showcase. Nonetheless, their unique folktronica has a hypnotising effect. Older material such as Brother Sport, Peacebone and My Girls are the set's obvious crowd-pleasing highlights.

There are a number of contenders for set of the day. Gary Clark Jr, Death Grips and The Killers are all worthy, but arguably the 2013 Big Day Out belongs to Brooklyn outfit Sleigh Bells. Partnered with guitarist Derek Miller and his clone Jason Boyer, singer Alexis Krauss is one part sex goddess and one part rocking she-devil. By set's end, she has any number of 17-year old boys running for a dark, private corner of Flemington Racecourse to whimper their way through the night, and as the crowd disperses on train, tram and taxi, it seems that, even after a shitty beginning, the Big Day Out has again lived up to its name.