It must be great to be a travelling muso booked to play January 1st in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Flawless blue skies and cool summer breezes almost always show up for Field Day and Sydney's iconic Domain is easily one of the shining jewels in Sydney's outdoor venue range. The audience is always running off a high (metaphorically!) from NYE, and this year they maintained a surprisingly relaxed vibe (roid beasts are unavoidable at these things but at least they were friendly). The weather being what it is, performing in down town Sydney in summer is loads better than freezing your bollocks off in a frost-bitten Northern Hemisphere town somewhere.
The strength of Field Day as a festival is the depth of its talent catalogue, with this year being no exception. They pulled an impressive range of talent across several key genres, going a long way in cementing their reputation as a festival that continues to cater for as many electronic music fans as possible. EDM predictably made up the bulk of the day (It's the golden goose of the current dance movement - deal with it), but big names keen to explore something different provided some interesting variation.
Big drawcards like Hot Chip and Two Door Cinema Club rolled out memorable sets, although a near disaster almost hamstrung Hot Chip (their gear didn't arrive, forcing them to fall back on a DJ set). They made a surprise return for a final half hour victory lap on the main stage to finish off the day after their gear turned up and a frantic application for a last minute time extension was upheld, despite apparent noise complaints. To witness bureaucracy and creative enthusiasm hand in hand is a promising way to start a new year.
As with most large scale festivals, the grounds were organised to try and capture several overarching themes, in this case dance pop (largely triple J fodder), forward-thinking acts focused on edgier material, quality local acts, and the centre stage which hosted the major internationals. The format worked fine, and there was a distinct atmosphere generated at each site which people took advantage of as energy levels fluctuated throughout the day. What organisers attempted to do on paper seemed to match the end result, which points to good planning.
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It wasn't all beer and skittles, with Coolio dropping an embarrassing set of sloppy, tired hip hop digging up ridiculous gangsta tropes (boats and ho's etc.) and successfully putting to sleep the last shred of his credibility by murdering his only hit Gangsta's Paradise care of a really irritating and bizarrely out of place sax player. MC work by the Bondi Hipsters was awkward and juvenile, and when they eloquently joked about Fuzzy giving them a verbal beat-down backstage there was legitimate confusion as to whether it was actually just a joke.
Perennial festival favourites Krafty Kuts and A-Skillz dominated the main stage in the early afternoon, mercilessly pillaging several decades for hits to bastardize. Still relying on the charming medium of vinyl, they scratched and mashed and dropped all the usual suspects (top 40 alt rock numbers from the mid-90s), finishing up with a stunning combination of Sabotage and Voodoo People. There's a sense of humour in their turntabalism that sticks out in a festival like this, like a bike messenger quietly farting in an elevator full of suits before exiting the building.
Swedish indie stars Icona Pop performed a dazzling set, and their rendition of breakout hit I Love It (such a great song) was impressive. Booka Shade played a straightforward set that sounded kinda square framed between Breakbot and Icona Pop, but they were slick and airtight. 808 enthusiast Araabmuzick played a furious set of incredible energy that left a few folks a bit stunned and confused, although his drops were huge and his ad hoc arrangements were mighty impressive.
Hotflush mastermind and early dubstep pioneer Scuba looked like he just woke up, but fought off narcolepsy with a sensational set of deep house direct from the industrial bowels of his adopted home of Berlin. After pissing off organisers by playing too long, he spun up Madonna's Vogue, threw a mostly full bottle of vodka into the crowd and wandered off. Bloody rock stars.
SBTRKT finished off the second stage with a nice (if short) hybrid set of live drumming and sequenced beats. His vocalist Sampha was charming and between them they stoked the dying fires as people got a bit fuzzy around the edges.
All the artists pulled out some great sets (check the Fuzzy website for a full list). Two Door Cinema Club nailed it with closing number What You Know and Erol Alkan was dependably massive.
Fuzzy have perfected the formula for Field Day, and in these uncertain times for festivals getting it right is vital. They deserve to keep going, and as long as they keep delivering events like Monday's then it shouldn't be a problem at all.
