An ode to Meredith: Can’t get you off my mind

It hadn’t yet reached 4 pm on the festival’s first day, yet the sup was packed to the brim with people even before the first act – Rot TV – had started playing. The atmosphere at Meredith was buzzing with excited anticipation, everyone was keen to be back for the 30th edition of the festival after a couple of plague-ridden years away. 

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This was my first time at Meredith. “You’re going to love it – it’s the best festival in Victoria,” people had told me in the weeks leading up to the festival. Yeah, yeah, sure, I thought, I’ll see how it is when I get there (spoiler alert: they were right). 

Meredith boasted the most eclectic – yet carefully considered – lineup. With only one stage in the middle of a natural amphitheatre, each act couldn’t be more different from what preceded it, but somehow was exactly what you wanted to be listening to at that time of day.

CLAMM at 2pm followed by Babe Rainbow at 3pm? Fantastic. It attracts all kinds of people who are into totally different genres but are ready to enjoy whatever the supernatural amphitheatre throws at them.

Meredith has a ‘no-dickheads’ policy set in place, which was a rule that all abided by – everyone was just there to have fun and wanted those around them to have fun too. That’s more that can be said for a lot of other festivals that I’ve been to and seems to be one of the main reasons why everyone loves the place so much. 

From the guy giving out free haircuts (but only reverse mohawks), to the group of strangers that gave me a lift and let me camp with them after my ride fell through at the last minute (absolute legends) – the people of Meredith were the undisputed highlight of the festival. Above all, the energy speaks volumes about the vibe that has been so lovingly curated by Aunty Meredith over these last three decades. 

With a fan-made Gary Ashby hat getting thrown on stage during Dry Cleaning’s set and the lead singer of CLAMM choking up with emotion while saying how much of a pleasure it was to be up on the stage, Meredith is a special place – and all those performing on stage knew and acknowledged it. The mention that the drummer of Surprise Chef met his wife here and now he’s performing here with their infant son in tow and Erika De Casier saying that they never expected this energy from their first time in Australia just added to this. 

Leading a Friday full of electric energy, Yothu Yindi delivered incredible performances and a vibey sound to the post-sunset atmosphere, and Courtney Barnett brought raw confidence and a rock and roll energy to her set that I’ve never seen before in any of her live shows.

The Comet is Coming was the highlight of the Friday, for me at least. A three-piece from London that merges jazz and rock with psychedelia, their frontman is a saxophonist who makes the instrument speak in unbelievable ways. Delivering a super intense show that tore me away from the cosiness of my friend’s couch, it was complemented by fast camera work and lighting changes.

One of the best parts of going to any festival is sticking around for an act that you’ve never heard of before and discovering something great. For me, that act was Our Carlson. Self-described as ‘epileptic dance music’, they’re made up of Cash Savage laying down some serious beats while Carlson paces back and forth before her on the stage decked out in a glittery one-piece suit. Shouting into the microphone over the loops about looking at yourself in the mirror at kick-ons, reminding us that “strobe lights are fucking ableist” or that we’re inspiring the wrong kind of protestors; Our Carlson is Baxter Dury meets Confidence Man.

They were genuinely funny in the way that the wittiest person at kick-ons is, and strangely, quite thought-provoking. They took breaks in between songs to warn the audience (who they addressed as “ ladies, gentlemen and everyone inbetween”) that their next song was about anti-capitalism and we wouldn’t know anything about that since we’d “paid $450 for our tickets, not to mention how much more on booze and drugs”. If Our Carlson is a parody of Australiana, it’s a very entertaining and finely tuned one.

The acts just kept coming; Babe Rainbow delivered the perfect set to chill out and recover in the shade of the gum trees, while CLAMM was hot and heavy, loud and sweaty in the pit. Coming “all the way from Napoli to you”, the cool change on Saturday set in for Nu Genea, granting us all a proper boogie unrestricted by the oppressive heat of the day – and boogie everyone did. I loved the little moment that they gave to their bass player right at the end, if there’s anything I want to see more in live music, it’s more bass solos. 

Masters of the live act, Private Function delivered the high-octane live show they’ve come to be known for, while kitted out like cowboys and on a stage dressed straight out of a made-for-TV 60s spaghetti western. They paired this with actors jumping on stage and pretending to shoot each other with guns, along with projections (the delay in sound only added to the comedy of it all).

From Albury-Wodonga to I Wish Australia Had Its Guns again, Private Function delivered a consistently entertaining and outrageously surprising performance. They saved their biggest surprise for the end, however. Rumours had been swirling around the festival, probably orchestrated by the band themselves, that they were going to bring a special guest onto the stage with them. 

The crowd’s guesses included the likes of Kylie Minogue (though, how could you bring Kylie on for one song and not have her perform Fever in its entirety) and Jimmy Barnes. In the end, they pulled out Joanne for a rendition of Jackie – a song so classic and deep cut in the Australian consciousness that I’d never heard it before. But the reaction of the crowd was bonkers and I haven’t been able to get the song out of my head since (or out of my ​​mii-ii-iind). 

Dan Snaith, appearing as Caribou and returning as Daphni after a short break for the Meredith Light Show, absolutely blew it out of the park. A hypnotic and joyous set that was punctuated by some incredible visuals, Caribou was a delight of a headliner. Masterful on the decks, Snaith’s return as Daphni was similarly warmed by dancing bodies and joy, which included some unreleased Fred Again tracks from his Boiler Room set in London earlier this year.

While this was my first rodeo, the aforementioned group of people that I was camping with have been to Meredith for going on over a decade now. “You’ll be back,” they told me as we were packing up our tents on Sunday morning, feeling mighty sorry for ourselves, “you’ll be back every year until you’re old and crusty,” and they’re probably right. See you next year Meredith – and for many more years to come.

In the end, maybe the real Kylie Monogue was the friends we made along the way.

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