Amid beers and forgotten tent pegs and all the rest of the setup mess, Golden Plains begins. The campsite is only half-filled, those who are there are already bleary eyed, perhaps from Friday night libations, or perhaps because it’s way too early. The campsite goes quiet as everyone naps before the madness begins with The Meanies. The Meanies, sporting a late ‘80s punk pedigree, seem lackluster in opening the festival. Link, looking like Dave Grohl but from a bygone era, does his best to muster the crowd, and towards the end of their set, everyone is dancing and there are a few shoes flying about. Good.
Hits back up The Meanies with some real steezy modern glam rock, excellent stagger and stage presence. Vocalist Evil Dick looks like a fat Marc Bolan crossed with Kram – his velour jacket is absolutely amazing. Belting out some crackers from their second album, funnily enough produced by Rob Younger of Radio Birdman, whom will later grace the stage, this seems like the true beginning to Golden Plains.
The beginnings of the female take over of the afternoon begins with Sharon Van Etten, folky and sweet, reminiscent of Courtney Love but with less attitude and more feelings. She pairs perfectly with First Aid Kit, a Swedish folk duo, and as depressing as the two acts are back to back, they are perfect for the afternoon lull and the sunset. With flowers in their hair, every nerdy punter with glasses immediately falls in love.
Neneh Cherry with RocketNumberNine+ are genre bending – solo, Neneh Cherry’s dub/Macy Gray stylings are cool, but backed with RocketNumberNine+, she definitely melts genres. The best part of the set? “Oooh ahhh, who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?”
Radio Birdman: if anyone or anything deserves a revival, it’s these cats. Rollicking Billy Idol/Iggy Pop style punk, with a touch of ‘Oiy’ thrown in for good measure – sure our parents listened to them, but they had good taste at some point, right? The old Aussie rockers surpass the tired cliché of old legends doing a comeback for money/pressure; they do it for love. There’s so much heart and energy and beer and attitude in their show it’s an absolute pleasure to watch. And yes, the singer can still dance like a champ.
Courtney Barnett, the female answer to Paul Kelly, has come a long way from singing Avant Gardener in smelly Melbourne pubs. Despite the big stage, dancers in floaties and the light show, she retains some level of quaintness while remaining incredibly cavalier. Hearing everyone sing History Eraser about halfway through the set is just gorgeous. Special mention to Dan Luscombe on guitar as well, he always kills it.
DJ Shadow, obsessed with hip hop heritage, plays lots of funk and soul, huge presence, great chat. But honestly? Every punter is having a sook. Between his chat with Cut Chemist and the crowd, it all seems so disjointed, and while everyone appreciates the history lesson, it would’ve been much better if we could’ve just boogied.
After surprisingly refreshing snooze and early awakening (9am), some Aldous Harding is in order. Watching members of the crowd rush, but pretend not to rush, up to the bathrooms with their hands over their mouth from excessive partying the night before is great, but so were Harding’s soothing tunes. They are so casual, like a mature and more soulful Barnett, big kudos. Banoffee follows shortly, her name advertised on the Belgian Waffle stand stage left, and has a massive turn out – especially for such early billing.
Milwaukee Banks retains some of Banoffee’s crowd and totally lives their hype – to borrow some o’ dat lingo – they’re dope. Van Gogh? Cool. Rose Water? Pretty cool. Patty Mills? Doooope. It’s the perfect mood setter to kick off the afternoon, blending chill laidback beats, nice and bumpy, to work into the hard rock segment of the day.
Oblivians grace the stage late afternoon. They sound like if Iggy and The Cramps had a baby. Rocking out with only two guitars, they nail the skinny punk groove of the late ‘70s; an absolute must see if you have the opportunity.
The Bennies follow not long after. Heaps of people love it, and it’s a great show. Singer Anty on his Korg is hilarious, can-canning for most of the set. Mushroom Tea and Knights Forever are definitely the highlights.
Big props to Soil & “Pimp” Sessions – the self-proclaimed Japanese death-jazz, which is exactly what it sounds like, and of course to Total Giovanni, the surprise hit of the weekend – a Duran Duran throwback with some Middle-Eastern influences.
The duo of Conor Oberst and Something For Kate could’ve led to a pandemic of slit wrists and crying eyes, however everybody’s too hyped. Conor Oberst is, well, Conor Oberst. Beautiful, poignant, depressing, heart-wrenching. Well Whiskey and First Day of My Life, wow. Something For Kate, being in their 20-somethingth year of playing together absolutely kill it. Echolalia, clearly everyone’s favourite album gets quite a flogging with Monsters, Three Dimensions, and a few others, and their cover of Beat It? Fahgeddaboutit. Paul Dempsey is like a fine wine: he’s getting better with age.
Parquet Courts? Headliner? Mr. Andrew Savage and his obnoxiously excellent rider requests? Great. So droll. But they pull it off as predicted. His hip attitude and dry humour pleases the crowd, and despite not being particularly mosh-worthy or danceable music, it has everyone out of their seats. Content Nausea and of course, Sunbathing Animal, despite being incredibly odd are amazing live.
And then, the undisputed Kings of Disco: Village People. In The Navy, Macho Man, all under the light of a giant disco ball that appears from nowhere (it was actually hung from a crane that they snuck in, the suspension hidden by fog – magic ruined, sorry), finishing on of course Y.M.C.A. Seeing 7000-odd people doing the Y.M.C.A at once is absolutely spine-tingling. Felipé is even kind enough to show the crowd precisely how to do the dance before leaping into song (Hint: we’ve all been doing it wrong). Even the strange dub/disco that constitutes the newer Village People slipped seamlessly into their set, truly a magnificent experience.
There is something truly spiritual about Meredith; the Golden Plains experience is not something to be missed, operationally, everything was solid, the music was amazing, and most importantly, the people were just gorgeous, which is what rounds out the whole experience into something transcendental. Do yourself a favour, and enter the ballot.
BY NAVARONE FARRELL
Photos by Courtney Sparklepants
Loved: Tinnies.
Hated: Empty tinnies.
Drank: Tinnies.
