Peats Ridge Sustainable Arts & Music Festival is the epitome of an Australian festival. It has the location, the music and the people. The Glenworth Valley on the NSW central coast has spectacular sandstone cliffs, raggy bush and large black bull-ants waiting to pounce on barefoot punters full of urine. The valley itself is a horse farm – where twice a day a parade of 200 horses is moved from one end of the property site to the other. This controlled stampede left me and all those around me standing agog. The sight of these magnificent equines made us feel hungover, graceless and unfit, but we forgot about them a few cigarettes later.
Peats Ridge has maintained its popularity because it earnestly has something for everyone: mask making and workshops for the kiddies, dumpster diving lessons, an MJ-thriller dance workshop, meetings on every environmental issue (develop the Kimberly anyone?), the drumming circles or just chilling out in the river. Around every corner of the festival site were people doing ridiculously enthusiastic things in the heat, like marching in gumboots or shakin it in a raving Brazilian mardi-gras. As Karl Pilkington said, “me eyes have never been so busy.”
However the music is what we all came to see. On the Saturday December 29, Northeast Party House got the party started with their Mosman version of Toro y Moi. Then the whole festival waddled over to the main stage for The Herd, who blew the party up! Everyone knew all the songs and The Herd crew had us jumping in time – balanced with the beautiful vocals of Jane Tyrrell. Then came the first clash with the Detroit House master Theo Parrish and party band Tijuana Cartel. Both were annoyingly good for the first night because we thought we had peaked too early… And we had. Because Krafty Kuts and A-Skillz, although technically without fault, ladled on the cheese in the big tent. Day two had a definite dub-vibe as Kingfisha got it chilled for Kaki King who ramped it up for Clairy Browne and the Bangin Rackettes (anyone with backup dancers and costume changes can marry me). The highlight was the Black Seeds, who were as smooth as velvet. After the mainstage had closed we looked around for more vibrations and spotted a dome made entirely out of cello tape and emergency blankets, which was kept inflated with an industrial fan. It was the brainchild of Dirk and Eduardo from urban future organization – and was incredibly popular with the punters who appreciated its womb like aesthetic; the warm tech house made me want to get into the fetal position. At 2am we were again birthed out into the cold dark night. Day 3 morning was a struggle but Microwave Jenny provided some beautiful covers of Carly Rae – which eased the pain. Gossling, Tuka and Unknown Mortal Orchestra all impressed. Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings were ever sassy, and her revamped version of Window Shopping brought a tear to the eye. However everyone was waiting for their favourite acronym, JBT. And they rocked it, hands were in the air like they were unconcerned. Some called it a night, while some partied in the future bubble till 4am…either way we eventually all went home happy, happy campers.
BY NICHOLAS HANSEN
LOVED: The Black Seeds composing tunes as smooth as NZ butter.
HATED: The cheesiness of the late night EDM.
DRANK: River water and Pimms cups.
