Wearing lace bodysuits and Hawaiian T-shirts, crushing seltzers on the train, eyeing up the ample police officers waiting outside of the gates – the crowds had arrived, and so had Laneway 2024.
This year, yet another stage had been added to the Flemington Racecourse grounds: five stages, 11 hours and 32 acts. One HUGE day out.
After catching the tail-end of the Vacations set (they wore matching boiler suits and didn’t let a broken guitar string slow them down), we snagged an overpriced sandwich and found a highly coveted patch of shade. The sun was beating down as hard as a Horsegiirl kick drum and the free sunscreen was a blessing.
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We soaked in the sweet sounds of Paris Texas thumping out of the Everything Ecstatic tent, before venturing over to the main stage to see Cordae (annoyed with a hot sound check mic, bringing just the right amount of hype for a 4pm set). Next, we traversed the grounds to catch rising Newcastle band Dust absolutely kill it on the Jameson-sponsored bar stage.
Speaking of, the small stage, tucked away in the corner, was an underrated gem. With a lineup studded with local rock favourites, it called back to the festival’s early days and deserved more love than it got, overshadowed by the big international artists.
This brings me to my one and only grievance: Laneway gave us too much good stuff all at once. For commitment-phobes like myself, it meant meticulous scheduling, bargaining with friends and watching half a set before scooting off across the park to try and fit in another.
I mean seriously, AJ Tracey or Faye Webster? Raye or Horsegiirl? Dope Lemon or Dominic Fike? The FOMO was real!
As the festival reached its pointy end and we finally chilled out on all the running around, the night finished on a high. Bringing his soulful tracks and a distinctly goofy vibe (“let’s all fart at the same time”) Steve Lacy effortlessly won over the crowd, who had their arms wrapped around their friends and their phone flashlights in the air.
An instrumental cover of Rage Against The Machine’s Killing In The Name Of placed early in the set got the energy up and kept it there. When it was finally time for the evening’s closer, it seemed the crowd had little left to give.
Despite the lax energy from the audience, Stormzy left everything he had on the stage, bouncing from one end to the next as he spat bars, beads of sweat flying off his face. Oh, to have been in the front row…
Featuring rapid-fire grime hits with truly beautiful moments of gospel (Blinded By Your Grace gave me chills despite the lingering heat), the set felt complete and distinctly ‘Stormzy’.
By the time the last piece of confetti had fluttered to the ground and the stage lights had been turned on, no matter where the say had taken us, we all felt like we had gotten our fill.
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