Live Review: Meredith Music Festival

12 – 14 Dec

Friday

As we wander to the Supernatural Amphitheatre it’s a potpourri of the human condition with strange costumes, couches, unicycles and elaborate beer bongs already the order of the day. Punk veterans Hard-Ons kick off proceedings and we get to experience the duality of their storied career when the current three-piece incarnation are joined by former drummer/vocalist Keish De Silva in frontman mode who, as well as pumping out vocals for a stream of cool tunes like Don’t Wanna See You Cry, also unveils some sick dance moves – including a length of stage moonwalk and a cartwheel – which suggest many years wasted behind the kit.

Next up are relative newcomers Blank Realm, and the Brisbane quartet show why they’ve gone from strength to strength this year with an accomplished set of groove-laden avant-pop. They jam Bulldozer Love into an epic finale as people get their dance on early, Daniel Spencer emerging from behind the drumkit to lead them through the cruisy Go Easy before they revert to normal positions and finish a great set with the ever-jubilant Falling Down The Stairs.

Local ensemble Teeth & Tongue clearly have a lot of their fans present, and frontwoman Jess Cornelius cuts a spectacular figure in her sparkly silver jacket, while the other five members rock matching grey parachute jackets in an awesome symbol of unity. Cornelius is super charismatic in a PJ Harvey kinda way, and while they play tunes from across their whole art-rock spectrum it’s actually upbeat new tune Cupcake that steals the show.

Soon the gravelly voice of Mark Lanegan fills the Amphitheatre, the black-clad singer accompanied by a sole guitarist (also all in black), which allows the former’s voice and mindset to dominate proceedings in his usual elegantly wasted manner. He’s an indisputable talent, but one has to wonder whether a beautiful sunny afternoon is the ideal surrounds for morose tunes such as The Gravedigger’s Song and Phantasmagoria Blues. It’s thrilling but slightly disturbing with that omnipresent cloud of danger that seems to trail Lanegan around, and songs like You Only Live Twice and Mirrored clearly strike a chord with the growing throng.

Californian doom legends Sleep are up next and it’s no place for the timid. Loud, hairy and dominated by an indefatigable love for volume and density, their music is heavy and elemental. The air is thick with killer weed as the molten riffs pour forth unrelentingly, Matt Pike and co pummelling the hill with their predominantly instrumental stoner vibe with the odd gruff vocals. Heads are banging everywhere, devil horns fly liberally and toward set’s end work boots start to fill the air, plus boogie boards and one crowd-surfer in a lizard costume, as lovers of the heavier side of rock show their unreserved delight.

Sleep. Pic by David Harris.

From a moniker perspective The War On Drugs fight a losing battle at Meredith, but from a musical standpoint they completely smash it out of the park. The sun finally disappears behind the horizon and the setting is perfect for their guitar-heavy blend of textures and atmospherics. Adam Granduciel is clearly in charge but his accomplished band work in perfect unison as they power though gorgeous numbers such as Arms Like Boulders and Eyes To The Wind. It’s subtle-yet-confident and utterly beguiling from start to finish.

Is it disco? Is it Bollywood? No, it’s massive mayhem-inspiring behemoth The Bombay Royale and it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Fronted by enigmatic duo The Tiger (Shourov Bhattacharya) and The Mysterious Lady (Parvyn Singh) it’s a captivating mish-mash of musical styles and genres like surf, soul and tons of funk that has one feeling as if they’ve been transported to South Asia but landed in the midst of some crazy raging party – a strange feeling no doubt, but perfectly appropriate for the surroundings.

Australian electro lynchpins Jagwar Ma are festival veterans by now and they pull out all of their accumulated tricks tonight, bringing an element of the Hacienda to Meredith. Their huge washes of indie dance and house with a massive, massive bottom end rock the hill without respite – seas of tribal rhythms, echo and reverb making this an exercise in chemistry – and it’s all offset by a huge, seizure-inducing light show. And a dancing panda let us sit on her couch in a perfect display of hospitality and synchronicity.

London-bred post-industrialists Factory Floor use a mix of organic instruments and electronics to construct their inimitable brand of dance music and the syncopated beats and flashing lights illicit a dancing frenzy among the more blissed-out revellers remaining. They innovate and construct strange sonics and soundscapes, but it’s all accessible enough to keep everyone moving; they build the mood slowly but steadily towards a crescendo that is as subtle as it is sonorous but rousing all the same. There’s always plenty happening in the margins if you pay attention, but at this stage most punters are beyond that and just enjoy the energetic beats.

Saturday

If the deafening safety sound drill and indecipherable announcements don’t rouse you from your sweaty, claustrophobic tent slumber then City Of Ballarat Municipal Brass Band’s leader testing out his mic with a few loud, “Good morning, Meredith”s sure do the trick. Apparently they’re looking for new recruits ‘cause maestro advertises the band’s rehearsal time: Tuesdays from 7.30 to 9.30pm. They close with a Christmas carol.

There are some ripper butterflies flitting around, which makes us feel like singing Michael Jackson’s Earth Song. And there appear to be more windmills on distant hills as well (Waubra wind farm?) teasing us with the promise of a cool breeze. Tiny Ruins are in full band mode today (with four members) and Me At The Museum, You In The Wintergardens is gorgeously wistful. These lullabies provide the gentle awakening we require, even if frontlady Hollie Fullbrook does tune her guitar in between songs way too much. We wish we could turn the Sup’s Straw Into Gold; there’s more than enough of the stuff blowing around and into open beverages. 

Initially we wonder where Kylie Auldist is and then realisation strikes: The Harpoons ain’t The Bamboos! There’s a flooded market place for this kind of thing right now and no one’s really excelling.

WHADDAYAMEAN there are no Silence Wedge T-shirts available as merch this year!? Gotta love it that Heaven Eleven advertise their “crap coffee” on a sandwich board for all those desperados who can’t face a lengthy queue and need their caffeine fix. Stat.

One of Phosphorescent’s songs sounds a lot like Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game, but Matthew Houck and co are also capable of channelling the ferocity of Hunners (which we wish they would do more). Some early boots/flip flops are raised in the air to express appreciation. Our attention is momentarily distracted by a passing “Free The Nipple” parade; boobs are out and banners held high. Is it just us or does another Phosphorescent song call to mind The Rose by Bette Midler? Closer Ride On/Right On coaxes even more footwear in the air.

Ghostface Killah. Pic by David Harris.

En route to the Pink Flamingo Bar, we spy a cardboard structure tied to a tree with a makeshift sign defining it as a Shotgun Booth. This seems a bit shy for the Meredith massive; what’s wrong with downing/failing to down beer bongs before an audience?

There are a few competing parties in campsites this year: we wander past a “Nude Party 3.30 – 4pm” sign and later there are whispers of a Deep Sea party. And all clash with Cloud Nothings! But the Bavaria bush camp cocktail party wins. If you don’t get there half an hour before the advertised start time, you will get no punch (or in keeping with this year’s old skool hip hop theme, gin’n’juice). Maximum heavy bling and nylon track suits are bravely sported in the heat. The Public Opinion Afro Orchestra score this difficult slot that undoubtedly leads to bands looking around every year with a bit of a, ‘Where’d everyone go?’ But to their credit they never let this dampen their enthusiasm. 

If you’re patient enough to plough through all Ghostface Killah’s big-up bullshit, he is indeed “Killah”. “I don’t know about y’all but I’m high as a mutherfucker right now,” he claims. There’s a lot of “Ghost. Face”/ Wu-Tang”/ “Put your double yeuws up!” After Ghostface invites punters up on stage for a rap battle, there are a few failed attempts from those who choke before paralympian Dylan Alcott crowd-surfs his way to the front. Alcott, who was part of the gold medal winning Australian wheelchair basketball team at the 2008 Summer Paralympics in Beijing, impressively delivers Method Man’s verse on Protect Ya Neck, the Wu-Tang classic. There’s a sick medley section for us to boogie on down to although Pharoahe Monch’s Simons Says (Get The Fuck Up) emerges the clear winner. But then the inclusion of Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit baffles.

Painters & Dockers deliver high energy when we need it. They open with their hit Kill Kill Kill and Nude School is a reminder to sign up for tomorrow’s Meredith Gift nudie run. You’ve really gotta watch where you dance/walk around the Sup’ because there are passed out casualties everywhere, just lying flat out on picnic rugs perhaps hesitant to move back to the campsite for fear they’ll never muster the energy to return to where the action is.

Why, Augie March, why? The momentum is lost. So many tinnies have already been invested and we wanna take it there, but this Shepparton band could have benefitted from a scheduling switch with Ghostface Killah.

Check out the full Meredith Music Festival gallery here.