Live Review: Splendour In The Grass 2016 Day Two

There's a longer queue to get glitter put on your face than there is for slushies or coffee. 

Day two gets under way in irreverent style at the Amphitheatre, where Byron Bay alternative outfit PLTS are making use of their triple j Unearthed Splendour victory with all they’ve got as they rip through their set of feel-good rock tunes. Somewhat sadly, they’re not courting as expansive an audience as yesterday’s opener Alex Lahey, but that’s less a reflection on them than it is a by-product of everyone being just a little wiped out after a massive first day; after all, they’re tight, endearing and just rough enough around the edges to feel authentic. It’s a mix that will serve them well in future.
Wow, that's quite a contraption Ngaiire's wearing, pleated gold layers of origami fanned material stands up on her head, there are gold wings on the back of her dress - which has a silver-jewel encrusted bra and gold train - and, yep! It goes "right up to [her] undies", as Ngaiire points out (and later, beyond). There's two backing vocalists plus drummer and keyboardist and Rabbit Hole is an early highlight as many in the crowd mimic the backing vocalists' messy chorey. Ngaiire does enjoy a Young Talent Time-style freeze finish and her dress actually becomes a top come Dirty Hercules, after which the crowd erupts. Backing vocalist Billie McCarthy's vocal solo during this track sure is impressive.

In Loving Memory Of Szymon is perhaps one of the more interesting acts this weekend - a posthumous tribute to gifted musician Szymon Borzestowski, who tragically took his life at age 23. The onstage family unit is joined by prominent local musicians including Emma Louise, Dan Hanson from Ball Park Music, David Le’aupepe from Gang Of Youths, and Liz Drummond, Hannah Field, Annie Hamilton from Little May. The six plus musicians on stage work perfectly in sync to bring Szymon's critically-acclaimed posthumous album, Tigerapp, to life. 

Montaigne's impressive vocals command the immediate attention of all GW McLennan punters, prompting even unsuspecting passers by to nod in approval. A striking figure in ruffles and a tailored jacket, the Sydney singer-songwriter croons In The Dark and Because I Love You with the fluctuating coo of Joanna Newsom. After messing up a song ("usually we can keep going, but that would've been catastrophic"), the crowd cheers her even louder. It's hard to feel anything but awe for someone with a voice like that.
For those suffering from flagging minds and bodies, however, the ever-excellent Harts proves to be just the antidote. The guitar virtuoso is a confident, magnetic figure as he noodles and shreds and riffs and grooves, even bringing out a trumpet player and saxophonist to complement his rock-solid vibes with boisterous, beautiful brass and woodwind.

An attempted call-and-response sing-along instigated by the performer during the chorus of Breakthrough falls laughably flat, the audience not quite able to muster the presence of mind to recall the rapid-fire lyrics but proving far more adept when he tries again to get us to echo the much-more-memorable phrase, “Yeah, yeah”. The misstep barely matters, though, as the curly-haired prodigy leaves nary a face unmelted in an otherwise commendable set that includes high points such as the Hendrix-esque Red & Blue and funk-step of new output Power.
Slum Sociable's frontman Miller Upchurch is a nifty tambourine player; he smashes it on all different body parts and plays with nuance. He also has a powerful voice and expertly utilises vibrato. A visitor from the 'Amish' community wanders through the front section of Mix Up brandishing a black flag with the following written on it in bold white all caps: "Alone We Stand. Together We Fall Apart". Groovy bass and other instrumental layers serve only to further showcase Upchurch's glorious voice. A soul stroke to help soothe dehydrated, dusty heads. Their Kanye cover (Runaway) is a genius inclusion. Good-vibe merchants. 

The Beach Slang dudes must be feeling it in the stinking hot mid afternoon sun on the Amphitheatre stage - as would be the humble smattering of punters before them. Defiant in their punk-but-dandy full-length threads, they bust out an energy and attitude-filled set that certainly doesn't show any signs of discomfort. They rip through favourites Bad Art And Weirdo Ideas, Porno Love and this year's newbie Punks In A Disco Bar. In the midst of all leading man James Alex peer pressures drummer Ed McNulty to "break his straight edge" by skulling some booze, much to the delight of the crowd.

Sydney electronic hip-hop duo Boo Seeka cater to the more shape-cutting crowd with stirring dance anthems. Tracks Deception Bay, Fool and their reworking of Eurythmics' Sweet Dreams manage to turn the ambience dial up to full - despite the mid-afternoon time slot.

Sun be damned say the mass of gals and guys that rush the pit in Amphitheatre in time for Melbourne psych gods King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard. It's one of the more impressive displays of crowd lunacy of the whole festival - a whirlpool of bodies starts spinning when Stu McKenzie's spacey vocal launches the seven-piece into Robot Stop and doesn't let up. If anything, Gamma Knife and People Vultures simply whip things up even more and it’s awesome to so many people digging on these extended jams.

"A truly commendable Splendour debut."

At the GW McLennan tent, Manchester post-punks Spring King seem trepidatious; vocalist/drummer Tarek Musa lets us know this is their first-ever festival in Australia at the outset, and requests that we go easy on them. All airs of concern wash away, however, with the opening strains of first song Better Man, a shouty, uptempo jam that sets the scene perfectly for the controlled chaos to come. Their audience – 30% fans, 70% curious onlookers, at a rough guess – grows steadily as they make their sure-footed Aussie festival debut. The ever-so-surfy, gang-vocal-heavy Can I? is an irreverent highlight, perfectly conducive for mass sing-alongs, if only more of us knew the words. It’s a truly commendable Splendour debut, although there’s a mild technical hiccup in the form of a busted amp before the heavily political They’re Coming After You. The band don’t let it ruin the vibe, though, playing muzak filler and bantering about the weather to keep us keen while we wait.

How Lido makes keys sound like a harp is extraordinary. He tells us he's not a DJ, so won't dictate what we should do, but adds he's gonna be up there "feeling shit". Ain't No Sunshine is a suitable track to drop after that spiel. There's a lotta dolled-up ladies on shoulders - even the security guard is grinning - but what's with the one-man-band movement in Mix Up this year? Can we blame YouTube? Next the "girl webcam singing - BOOM BOOM BOOM" will get a slot. There's a clap-along for ("I finally came to") Love You(which he cringeworthingly changes to "I finally came to Splendour"). Then there's a chipmunk-esque vocal song and we remember Lido's previous claim that he doesn't mind if we feel like ringing our mum during his set. Off we go, then.

What's with those Rock & Roller Wagons where people pull their kids around in a trolley? Unless they come in adult size, these need to be banned from festivals. There's superb phone coverage this year, though; all texts go through immediately, which is such a pleasant change - you can actually meet up with your squad! 
Gang of Youths bring the Amphitheatre to life with their fan-favourite brand of indie rock. Frontman Le’aupepe channels the late Michael Hutchence in both stature and confidence, and even some Beyoncé with a snippet of the Single Ladies dance. Fan favourite Magnolia explodes with a sea of confetti being blown into the crowd.

A hush falls then is quickly obliterated by screams in the Mix Up tent as UK electro giants Snakehips settle in behind the illuminated decks under a dazzling backdrop. Theirs is one of the loudest this stage has seen so far but not quite the fullest. They spin a set that has everyone raving to Cruel then grooving to Days With You. It's a wonder anyone can keep up the energy up as the beats come flying thick and fast, but bunch of dance battles have broken out amid Gone but All My Friends gets the biggest hurrah with arms swaying and hands pumping.
Unmissable soul man Michael Kiwanuka and his band have travelled all the way from London for this gig, but the hypnotic performers in front of us show no sign of discomfort. They net a massive early cheer for Tell Me A Tale as his sizeable audience gets into the swing of things, everyone grooving and dancing to the band’s note-perfect tunes. Blue light soaks the stage for Rule The World, which Kiwanuka handles unaccompanied for most of the song’s run time before the soundscape widens, the band joins in and he lets loose with a bone-shaking solo. Wildly successful single Black Man In A White World, with its heartfelt, political lyrics, urgent instrumentation and stop-start, hip-shaking rhythms, proves far and away the biggest song of the evening, but the entire outing is one from which Kiwanuka and his collaborators can walk away safe in the knowledge that they thoroughly had us enraptured from go to whoa.

Sydney's Sticky Fingers play their homegrown brand of rock reggae fusion to a rapturous Amphitheatre. What the shaggy-haired five-piece lack in shirts, they make up for in almost everything else. Just mix the unashamedly broad accent of an Australian rapper with the musical dexterity and leopard coat swagger of a classic rock band. Liquorlip Loaded Gun is a set highlight, slowing down the tempo for a hearty singalong.

Foliage-enhanced stage dressing gives Crystal Fighters a cult vibe. Some impressive unison Crystal Fighters-themed flag bearing from the two female vocalists kicks off their set. There's plenty of dancing room - good for us, bad for them. And some seriously coordinated arm work - swaying side to side - unifies Mix Up. "This is reality," frontman Sebastian Pringle declares. Crystal Fighters then encourage us to hug the person to our left and right, which is always a popular festival call (particularly for those hearing it for the first time). The guitarist stage left, though! Ten out of ten. Love Natural  seals the deal. 

"Everyone gives it their sweaty all."

At the Mix Up stage, The Meeting Tree – well, half of them, anyway – are playing their final-ever set, which is really just a DJ set of miscellaneous bangers to soundtrack solo present member Joyride dancing next to a cardboard cut-out of his collaborator Raph Lauren. He is joined a couple of times by an apparently quite-drunk Sam Margin, of The Rubens, and it’s clear that this is as much about the man on stage having fun as it is for anyone in the audience. Everyone gives it their sweaty all, however, sending off one of the nation’s funniest and most colourful acts in style as both Joyride and Margin take off their shirts and salute the crowd before walking off-stage.
Over at GW McLennan, Ball Park Music serve up tongue-in-cheek indie pop, with tunes like Trippin' the Light Fantastic fitting for some teen movie soundtrack. Between favourites like Fence Sitter and the anthemic Coming Down, the five-piece find time for experimental jams. They even debut a brand new song from their forthcoming album, proving that one of Brisbane's cleverest post-2010 indie pop acts has still got it.
The last time Texan post-hardcore icons At The Drive-in performed at Splendour, they were a polarising prospect, a result of how forced and ill-timed their previous reunion felt to casual onlookers. This time around, though – even though the five-piece is sans one of their founders (the exited Jim Ward) – they are nothing but impressive, recalling the vitality and force of their early years despite being more than a decade older and wiser these days. Frontman Cedric Bixler-Zavala is lunacy incarnate, jumping all over the shop and destroying stage lights for shining in his eye. His voice may have lost some of its power over the years, as parts of Arcarsenal and Pattern Against User – and outro of perennial favourite Invalid Litter Dept. – indicate, with formerly gut-wrenching screams now occupying more pained-yelp territory. He more than makes up for it by being one of the most magnetic performers of the festival so far. They close with the simply massive One Armed Scissor and a promise to see us next year with their new record, which garners almost as big a cheer as any song in this utterly incredible set.
Back at Mix Up, What So Not, by Australian record producer Emoh Instead, unleashes a slew of dance floor anthems with tracks from Beyoncé, Kendrick Lamar and Major Lazer. If the danger of flailing limbs are anything to go by, everyone in this packed tent is absolutely loving it.

Ireland’s James Vincent McMorrow has a loud and loyal following before him in the G.W. McLennan tent when he and his players emerge from the blackness. Any fears of such a fierce but fragile falsetto being lost to the surrounding ruckus outside the tent are quickly put to bed when he lets rip songs Breaking Hearts, This Dark Old Machine and the note-perfect favourite Higher Love with just the gentleman himself on keys. The band returns to close with Cavalier, leaving an already dazzled crowd with the searing memory of McMorrow’s gorgeous pipes.

The number of people at Matt Corby’s tent is – with no disrespect intended – absolutely outrageous. Like, these people know The Cure is playing right now, right? Well, maybe Robert Smith isn’t as massive a figure as we originally thought he was, because the GW McLennan tent is overflowing with punters keen on being serenaded by the Aussie singer-songwriter, who steps on stage in a flowing shirt adorned with the Indigenous flag, the man himself looking as elegantly dishevelled as ever. His crowd laps up Corby’s many talents as he hits his stride early with favourites both new (Do You No Harm, from latest LP Telluric) and old (the ever-popular Resolution). Natural highlights ensue from the rapturously received Souls a’Fire and utterly gargantuan Brother, among others. Surprisingly (well, for some of us), Corby not only busts out a flute to riff on, but he’s actually really fucking good, even earning the obvious Jethro Tull comparison from a punter nearby. Backed by brilliant musos and a hypnotic light show to match, this is a far better outcome than could have possibly been expected given his direct competition, but Corby has knocked it out of the park.

As we assemble at Amphitheatre for The Cure, we notice a fan has her inflatable picture frame ready for Pictures Of You. Disintegration opens and we crumble under its majesty. We hear wind chimes and then a soft breeze nudges hair away from faces, ever so flatteringly as if we each have a personal Beyonce fan - thanks, Mother Nature. The Cure's self-indulgent moroseness! We score Pictures Of You around song three, but the inflatable picture frame stays put, like an across-the-body bag. Then it occurs to us this is a random selfie prop that perhaps has nothing to do with The Cure. This music is by far the most beautiful of the festival up to this point. 

Those forgoing The Cure have found themselves spilling beyond the edges of the Mix Up tent, where Philidelphia sass queen Santigold is in command of a nutball crowd. There is so much going on in this set - costume changes, flags waving, back-up dancers, a visit from Spank Rock and even an elocution lesson for saying her name (SANtigold, not SanTEEgold). L.E.S Artistes, Big Boss Big Time Business, Rendezvous Girl, Chasing Shadows and Disparate Youth more than live up to their album counterparts, aided by her amazing vocal delivery and stage nous. Can’t Get Enough Of Myself and Big Mouth seal the deal and leave a sweaty but pumped crowd in their wake.

"Just when we think all of our favourites have been covered..."

Back on the mains stage, The Cure frontman Robert Smith's voice has added gravitas when experienced live; his instrument is flawless. High pretty much sums it up. Then in comes A Night Like This: "I'm coming to find you, if it takes me all night" - I mean, come ON! Sleep When I'm Dead - Splendour's new logo. Let's not forget Smith's guitar playing that heralded in half-decent copycats worth welcoming. And Smith's speaking voice! It's better than most singing voices. Friday I'm In Love beckons nostalgic tears even if Smith seems concerned that it's Saturday when the song favours the day prior. That bass in Love Song! Then Smith's plaintive vocal reminds us of unrequited teenage love - the rawest and most real of all. We all yearn to feel about someone how these lyrics so poetically describe. The drumming is next level. Those unhinged piano trills in The Caterpillar with that syncopated skip-beat. Close To Me gets us bopping on the hill and mimicking those delightful, plonky, disappearing-down-the-drain key parts. 

The band take a few breaks during which to regroup throughout their three-hour set. Let's Go To Bed bleeds into Why Cant I Be You - "... simply elegant". Boys Don't Cry - just when we think all of our favourites have been covered, they just keep coming. Have we mentioned A Forest yet? Probably too busy dancing and blissing out to take notes. Magnificent stuff to wrap day two of Splendour 2016.