Live Review: Harvest Festival

A massive electrical storm ravaged Brisbane yesterday and similar is expected for today, but that hasn't stopped an eager swarm of indie lovers from descending on the picturesque inner-city environs of the Botanic Gardens where Harvest Festival is strutting its stuff today.

An enthusiastic crowd has lined up early to witness Sydney indie darlings Winter People open the Riverstage. Playing the gamut of their debut record A Year At Sea, the six-piece already seem at home on the main stage, with the biggest crowd response for Gallons. Nevertheless there is something staid about this performance that may fade over time. Overall an amiable – if underwhelming – opening to the day.

Philadelphian quartet The War On Drugs are on fire early at The Windmill Stage, frontman Adam Granduciel leading his charges through an impassioned set of classic rock, offset by synth-driven textures and atmospherics that make the experience a sensory delight. The catchy Baby Missiles is an early highlight, but he gets his Neil Young on during Come To The City and coaxes Taking The Farm to an arena-rock climax, before finishing an awesome set with the rocking A Needle In Your Eye #16, complete with a massive swirling guitar solo to close proceedings.

One of the few first-timers to Australia on the bill, UK's Los Campesinos! are perfectly suited to kickstarting the party vibes. They aren't spring chickens either, with a wealth of back catalogue to flaunt. Luckily it is all upbeat, which is what the crowd needs to keep the ominous clouds at bay. When It's You, It's Me, We're Dancing hits its pace, the band truly seems to have won over a lot of fans. Let's hope they're back again soon.

While they play to thin crowd, right in the middle of today's first big downpour, the UK's Dark Horses don't seem to let this deter them, as they smash out a wonderfully rich set full of brooding indie rock. While the band are a little drab on stage, this doesn't matter since sexy, engaging frontwoman Lisa Elle is captivating enough to make up for the whole mob as she belts out tracks from the band's Black Music LP.

Weirdest inclusion of the festival goes to '80s one-hit wonders Dexys (The Midnight Runners having scarpered some time ago). The band, fluctuating between eight and 11 members, is all dapperly dressed. Pity about the music – their take on theatrical new-wave pop has not aged well. Come On Eileen is fleshed out and is a highlight of the day; alas, without the sun and full-strength beverages, the rest of the set is dead on arrival.

Even after almost 20 years, it's clear that people still fucking love The Dandy Warhols. Behind pouting frontman Courtney Taylor-Taylor, the Oregon crew rip through a greatest hits set, the tunes seemingly directing the clouds to sod off, if only for the interim. A trumpet-assisted Godless opens proceedings before the goodness is just wheeled out end-to-end: We Used To Be Friends, Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth, Good Morning and Bohemian Like You. Finishing with Boys Better, the band couldn't have made more of their hour-long slot.

Los Angeles four-piece Silversun Pickups seem right at home in the warm afternoon sun, and although the band make-up is slightly askew, with expecting mother Nikki Monninger replaced on bass duties by Sarah Negahdari, the four-piece give it their all. The setlist is desperately short on older material and the sound isn't completely kind to Negahdari or frontman Brian Aubert, but the closing one-two of Panic Switch and Lazy Eye is the shot most people in the crowd need to really kickstart the afternoon.

What's with the midnight vultures given a sunny spot? Last year it was Mercury Rev battling the heat, today it is the ubiquitous Liars. The trio do their best – WIXIW and the excellent No 1 Against The Rush from their new record are particularly stirring, but it feels like this would be far better suited to dusk. A feverish Plaster Casts Of Everything and nebulous The Other Side Of Mt Heart Attack finish proceedings though, reminding everyone what a potent force they continue to be.

It was always going to be a strange proposition, seeing the sprawling orchestral Mike Patton's Mondo Cane in the middle of what is ostensibly a rock festival, and judging by this afternoon's performance, its effectiveness will depend on who you ask. Patton devotees lap it up, but some of the intricacies of this grandiose music seem so fully amplified to suit the setting that they lose that power of light and shade. Having said that, the musicianship is first class and Patton is a consummate showman and prodigious vocalist. The very fact that an act like this can be considered on a typical rock festival is testament to the festival's refreshingly different programming.

Cake mix funk rhythms and sparse alt.rock with the slightly-singing-more-so-spoken-word musings of frontman John McCrea, to create a sound that, although unique, isn't really that exciting – generally speaking. But the crowd remain enthused through the new material, politely listening to the ranting man front of stage when he veers off on a political bent, and are duly rewarded with a closing three-up of Never There, Short Skirt/Long Jacket and The Distance, making the journey all worthwhile.

How are The Black Angels not huge everywhere? Occupying the Red Tractor Stage, the Texan psych powerhouse craft another scintillating set of rock that appears effortless, yet there is nothing lackadaisical about their performance. Christian Bland wields the guitar like a lysergic wizard in flannelette, whilst Stephanie Bailey leaves nothing to chance, flailing the skins to within an inch of their life. But it all comes down to Alex Maas' vocals, and as perennial killer Young Men Dead typifies, it is top tier.

Once the sea of poncho-clad festivalgoers has reconvened across the hill of the Windmill Stage, Ben Folds Five reclaim Harvest back from the clutches of Mother Nature. As lightning cracks constantly across the horizon, the aging three-piece show performance zeal far below their years. Underground and One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces turn into jovial mass sing-alongs, newer material such as Draw A Crowd and Do It Anyway sit naturally among the quintessential '90s cuts, while Brick simply wraps you in a wave of nostalgia.

Over at the main stage Minneapolis folk outfit Dark Dark Dark are completing their second set for the day – filling in on the main stage for Beirut, who pulled out at the last minute due to illness – and are doing a fine job of battling the inclement weather and last-minute scheduling with their atmospheric and textured sounds when the heavens open and an announcement is made that the event is postponed, and security (quickly and smoothly given the circumstances) usher all patrons off the site and urge people to take cover in the neighbouring QUT campus. The massive storm abates eventually and social media lets people know that it's game on, and before you know it we're back inside Harvest waiting for a resumption of play, and we don't even seem to miss any acts. Well played.

It does mean, however, that the vibe at the main stage is somewhat weary and restrained, but the emergence of Beck, who launches straight into Black Tambourine, with the restrained cool that has been a huge part of his charm for the past 20 years. Think I'm In Love runs into a chorus of Prince's Raspberry Beret nicely before Beck and co take on a couple of Sea Change numbers – namely The Golden Age and Lost Cause – that take on a special significance as the band that backs Beck Hansen up tonight is the same group that backed him on that 2002 record. An impromptu blues ditty that laments this evening's weather leads into Soldier Jane before the slack groove of Hotwax starts the set's energetic run home; One Foot In The Grave, Devil's Haircut, Loser, Gamma Ray and Where It's At see Beck in full flight, freestyling some typically bizarre chatter in amongst the slick renditions of these great songs.

While the storm delay disrupted the other stages, the Red Tractor Stage is now a quagmire, which scares many hipster fashionistas away. Thank fuck for Fuck Buttons then. The UK duo have cornered the market in making electronic noise enjoyable (even attractive), and while today's set isn't as ear-splittingly loud or seductive as it could have been, there is an insidious groove inherent in these cyclical tunes that hypnotise. Grizzly Bear are an enthralling mix of indie smarts, church-choir choruses and rock-rooted playing. Singles like Yet Again and Ready, Able stir deep-seated emotions and, being drenched in various shades of colour, it's hard not to get overwhelmed. Touring keys player Aaron Arntz loses his shirt and starts crowdsurfing during While You Wait For The Others, highlighting the band have plenty of humour behind their harmonies, but when Ed Droste leads the New Yorkers through a mesmerising Two Weeks, everyone is firmly rooted, lost completely in the moment.

Brooklyn's First Lady of Electro Pop, Santigold, provides the perfect close to the evening over on the Windmill Stage. With choreographed dancers and a crack backing band kitted out in matching white schoolboy outfits and flattop helmets, Santi rips through the hits at speed – Go!, LES Artistes, Lights Out – before inciting a mass stage invasion that sees ladies and lads alike cutting the rug with the dancehall queen.

It is almost as if Mother Nature has conspired with Icelandic demigods Sigur Rós, as the elemental maelstrom feeds perfectly into the otherworldly music that the band inhabits. Accompanied by visuals (that include fireflies, falling sparks, contorting limbs and sun filtering through trees) and a mini-orchestra, the four-piece are unstoppable tonight. A crushing Von, a heart-wrenchingly cathartic Glosoli, a beatific Svefn-G-Englar, a joyous Olsen Olsen – every facet of their utterly brilliant oeuvre is accounted for. The focus, as always, is on Jonsi Birgisson, his voice and bowed guitar combine in indescribable beauty and grace. The darkness of new track Brimstone intrigues, before an incendiary take on Untitled #8 provides the best ending to a festival this reviewer has ever seen. Utterly brilliant.

Crazy P know how to get down, and make the best of a bad situation that sees them going up against Santigold and Sigur Rós, getting a small throng of punters swaying to their deep-house grooves. The back section of Matt Klose and Tim Davies lock into some seriously funky rhythms, while frontwoman Danielle Moore continues today's trend of vixen ladies simply owning the stage.

So there you have it: a brilliant array of musical talent prevailing over one of the mightiest storms in recent memory, making Harvest 2012 a memorable day for a myriad of reasons. Well played Brisbane!