There’s a natural phenomena that occurs when water falls from the sky and mixes with earth to form a liquidly, slippery substance. It’s called mud. There’s another natural phenomena that occurs when raging young party animals, dressed in psychedelic get ups, take a cocktail of uppers, downers, and in-betweeners. It’s called the munted punter. When mud and munted punters combine in a larger than life amphitheatre that heralds a quality of sound that’s close to fucking amazing, it’s a spectacle to behold. A crowd losing their shit, going arse over tit, is one for the now defunct Australia’s Funniest Home Videos best of reel.
That was Splendour in the Grass 2015. Or more like Splendour in the Mud. I’ve never seen and tested so many different consistencies of mud – sludge, tan bark infused crud, bottomless puddles of muck, and of course sloppy diahorrea-like ooze. But mud aside, Splendour was an odyssey, and I’m not just talking about hiking around the rolling hills of the festival grounds. Here’s what happened at the North Byron Parklands.
Friday: Upon entering, you’re face-to-face with a giant Nicolas Cage in a Cage, an internet meme inspired inflatable sculpture, which became mud-stained within minutes from those wanting to bounce around on it. Walking over heartbreak hill into the initially intimidating amphitheatre, the sounds of San Cisco got things swinging, rallying the troops with their war cry, “If you don’t know the words, just dance”. Death Cab For Cutie belted out tracks from their recently released record Kintsugi, within a setlist littered with old favourites. Moving into the G.W McLennan tent, J. Spaceman from Spiritualized launched the crowd into space, really coming together with the Come Together; white-cloaked gospel singers providing the celestial backdrop. In between sets, running back and forth from the loos, you couldn’t help but bump into the many girls braving the male toilets to avoid the usual endless female toilet queues, getting jealous at the men peeing at the urinals, saying, “How good are dicks?”
Then came the rain and Ryan Adams amongst fake Marshall stacks and arcade machines, thanking the audience for ditching the “Fake” music of Mark Ronson and Peking Duck. I’m paraphrasing here, but Adams said, “If you think hair metal looked silly, imagine what laptops will look like in ten years”. He was a bit bitter, maybe because he didn’t get the amphitheatre spot, or maybe he’s just a song man fighting for his craft.
Saturday: After a night of rain, the things just got muddier, and slipperier. BBQ show, from The King Khan and BBQ show,blew nipple kisses through his shirt with nipple holes as they cranked up their brand of acid tripping, garage rock to 11, causing the kids to get loose. Next up was the expansive guitarscape of ‘80s rockers The Church, performing with recent recruit, ex-Powderfinger guitarist Ian Haug. The Dandy Warhols were still riding the wave of their past successes – not to say it wasn’t good. Everyone was getting off, feeling all bohemian like you.
Florence + the Machine had the prime time Saturday night position, back at Splendour after an appearance in 2010. Florence ran up and down the stage, dress flowing, getting all the ladies gooey. The burley guys were getting right into it too, singing all the words. She got everyone taking clothes off, even herself, “running around in her bra like a crazy lady,” as a dude waving his shirt in the air reported.
Sunday: Royal Blood made a valiant effort to get the exhausted crowd rocking out to their octave generated bass and drums assault, before Tame Impala took the stage, putting smiles as wide as the amphitheatre on everyone’s faces. Blur hit the stage to an ice-cream truck medley, with Damon Albarn’s golden tooth glistening in the moonlight, underneath the giant glistening disco balls. It’s hard to know which was shinier. With the mud in the crowd, he might’ve had flashbacks of Glastonbury, shouting “It’s just like England”. They delivered a hit filled set, but without Country House. Come on. I’m sure there were a few in the crowd who needed a herbal bath in the country.
Still a teenager in its 15th year, what is it that differentiates Splendour from the cavalcade of festivals that lather the Australian soundscape? It’s the crowning jewel of the festival off season for the triple j crowd, and for us down south, it’s a way to escape the chills and throw on your shorts while enjoying the epic North Byron Parklands amphitheatre. You can understand why it was a site worth fighting for.
BY LEE SPENCER-MICHAELSEN
Photo by Ian Laidlaw
Loved: The massive fuck off amphitheatre.
Hated: The full priced entirely mid strength bar.
Drank: Classic Dry Whites.
