Between The Bays is a true family festival, with a focus on entertaining and distracting under-18s so their folks can stretch out, exhale and enjoy a delicious chocolatey Red Hill Scotch Ale. It would also mark the first time I’ve taken along my crotch fruit to a rock show. However, I underestimated how hard it can be to chase a kid around all afternoon in the heat, take proper notes and always have a beer in hand, so I’ve relied partly on the recollections of others. Prepared to hate Jordie Lane for the perception as a rootsy wanna-be troubadour who probably supports John Butler, he presented some tasty Americana and easy going sunshine country licks, making him a hit with the masses in the shade tents halfway back. Mark Seymour is treated like a god in some circles and I’ve never understood it. Maybe it’s because I’ve got no time for footy and never saw me team hold up the Premiership trophy to the strains of Holy Grail. I do remember thinking in the first song ‘I’m bored already’, but when he left aside the gravel-voiced blues rockers and focused on the reworked versions of the hits, it was a cheery surprise.
Curiously, the toddlers responded to the hits with sweet little dance moves and then became distracted and ran off to eat grass during the duds. Custard are still astonishing. Matthew Robert Strong may resemble Keith Richards more than ever but McCormack can effortlessly engage a crowd like no other, inciting dancing and bodacious partying despite his songs not having being flogged to death on commercial radio and football shows over the last 20 years. He spoke of hard working Australians doing it hard, dancing for the Anzac spirit, dedicated a song to giggling and then proceeded to giggle during flubs. The perfect festival act, Custard overflow with sunny optimism and boyish good naturedness.
Beginning their set before sunset, their festival suitability escalated as dark descended and things got more rowdy in Camp Hilton. A rare treat these days, a live Custard show is something to be really savoured, swished around the mouth, and then slurped down without impunity.
BY NICK HILTON
LOVED: Custard.
HATED: My buddy told me that he gets sex five times a week from his wife, and I hate that my wife doesn’t read my reviews or take subtle hints.
DRANK: All varieties from the Red Hill Brewery.
