Live Review: A Hitch To The Sticks - Day Two

Lima - Winton - Glenrowan - Wangaratta

Alarms go off to signal wake-up time and it has to be said that it's a lot earlier than a lot of us are used to getting outta bed on a Saturday. Drunkenness commonly turns those who swear they don't snore into sound barrier-breaking snorers so it's a weary, hungover bunch that assembles in the mess hall, squirting tomato sauce onto egg and bacon rolls and complaining about the instant coffee not being up to scratch (damn straight, we're coffee snobs!) on the morning of Day Two.

We have a big day ahead of us and after boarding the bus ("Morning, Wayne!"), Dallas Frasca encourages, "Be yourselves!” over the coach's shitty PA. We’re also encouraged to refrain from taking photos at the first stop in favour of being present. As soon as we roll back into reception, it's all heads in phones and we're reminded to hashtag our posts: #Hitch2. Ooh, look out! There’s a call for Wayne to pull the bus over for a hurler, who blames everything but last night’s alcohol consumption for her Chaka Khan debut. Luckily Wayne has some “Chucky” bags to distribute for any future upchuck. 

En route to our next destination, Frasca is as secretive as ever but we soon arrive at Winton Wetlands, the largest wetlands restoration project in the Southern Hemisphere. 

As we wander into what used to be the wetlands (currently dry), the sound of the long strands of box grass rustling is peaceful and meditative, which inspires a bit of soul-searching. We're also pretty excited to learn that scenes for the upcoming Justin Kurzel movie, True History Of The Kelly Gang, were filmed around here. 

Then clapstick rhythms lure us over to Bricky B, an indigenous hip hop/spoken word artist born and raised in Shepparton. One of Bricky B's sons - his Mini-Me - crouches on the ground beside him, looking up at his dad proudly. His passionate raps are performed emphatically and authenticity such as this simply can't be taught. Bricky B was put on this earth to spread his message and make a difference: "We never know when our time's up so let's nail it/We never know when our life's up so let's not waste it/Let's live it/Embrace it" - Rise. His is a gift that needs to be shared far and wide.

After a delicious lunch of kangaroo pie, salad and beers or ciders to dust away the cobwebs, at Mokoan Hub & Cafe, we hear from Aunty Faye. The generosity with which she shares her story, as part of the stolen generation, leaves us all in tears and it has to be said that Aunty Faye gives the best hugs. Stories such as hers need telling in order to understand and own difficult parts of our country's history, and the important work of Aunty Faye cannot be underestimated. 

For the inaugural A Hitch To The Sticks we experienced a smoking ceremony and it's cultural enlightenment such as this that really elevates this travelling festival to another level. 

Once back on the bus, we wonder what the hell Wayne is doing for a bit as he seems to be driving around in circles near Glenrowan until all of a sudden 'Ned Kelly' appears and holds up our bus. 'Kelly' tells Wayne to drive on and takes us on a historical trip around Glenrowan, pointing out places of interest as they pass while threatening to steal our "timepieces". When he observes a passing bicycle looks “kind of like a penny farthing”, we absolutely lose it. Then our coach is pulled over by a 'Constable' who 'arrests' 'Kelly', conveniently outside Glenrowan Hotel where we pause for a cleansing ale. 

Next up on the itinerary? It's off to Wangaratta to check into our accommodation at Advance Motel, where sadly the pool is out of action (although we suspect this is a one-night-only shutdown after the early morning pool party carnage that went down at the inaugural A Hitch To The Sticks). 

It's a short stroll from Advance Motel to Apex Park and we hurry down to check out The Northern Folk. What an ensemble! A ten-piece showcasing four parts brass (who all also supply BVs - WHAT!?) plus two exceptional vocalists - one male, Paul Dyason; one female, Georgie Currie - who transport us to some kind of adorable alternate universe where we smile from ear to ear while hopping along to their folk-pop stylings. Dyason braved performing on the Hitch One bus solo as we ventured outta Melbourne earlier this year and experiencing the band he fronts is pure bliss.

Clarinet player Alex Cameron introduces Get On as, "Paul’s answer to all the world's ills." We reckon these legends sound like a cross between Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros and Mumford & Sons, which ain't too shabby. The amount of vocal options adds to this outfit's already-intoxicating instrumental prowess. There's some Ring A Ring O' Roses dancing in the crowd during the band's irresistible foot-stomper Whiskey Jesus. We're told The Northern Folk's new single Cold is coming out soon (it's now ready for your ears on the band's Bandcamp and utilises alternating male and female lead vocals plus definitive sax solo). It's unlikely we'll ever go cold on this ten-piece and fellow hitcher Stacey describes their set thus: "That was sickballs fuckin’ bonanza!” Agreed, The Northern Folk need to be experienced live to be fully appreciated. 

William Crighton eyeballs all, performing in three-piece mode tonight, and the Apex Park massive are mesmerised. That intense gaze draws us all in and Crighton's expert storytelling quietens the revellers. As we nod our heads to the catchy melodies, his dark lyrical content (including but not limited to Priest, Crighton's song about a country boy killing a paedophile clergyman) carries a lot of weight. Crighton plugs his latest Empire set, which is available at the merch stand, before playfully adding, "If you hate the music they’re wonderful frisbees, as I always say." The barnstorming Devil's Tongue instrumentally calls to mind Rock Lobster by The B-52's (or is that the Wang Bitter talking?) His music is very much inspired by nature, evocative and incorporating vivid descriptions of rural landscapes. During Crighton's closer, he stalks the stage, barking accusations while convincingly in character, "Are these the men you put in command!?" We're a bit terrified of him, but many dub Crighton an early favourite for set of the fest.

“This is the first gig I’ve done sober in 25 years,” Tim Rogers claims before cautioning the kiddies that if they choose a similar path in life they’ll wind up looking like him. Rather than his usual You Am I gig, we're treated to a set by Tim Rogers & Friends (which Rogers later hilariously refers to as, "Tim Rogers and his band of has-beens") this evening. During If We Can't Get It Together Rogers glances sideways at the debonaire AF Davey Lane after singing "slut” within the lyrical content, as if suddenly realising this song ain't PG (much like most You Am I material). Brett Wolfenden bashes the kit somewhat like Keith Moon. The band play a "Chuck Berry version" of Heavy Heart and it's limbs akimbo. Rogers introduces his band members (eg, “Fresh from the donut stand...”) and proves he's just as entertaining sober. Lane takes lead vocals on one number and it's mass swoons. "Thanks for giving a couple of young guys a go," Rogers jests at set's close. 

Sarah Guppy is on DJ duty during this event and spins awesome family-friendly cuts. Kids look up at their parents, wondering how they know the words to these cool songs and immediately feel happier about their lot in life. 

The front section gets rammed ahead of Killing Heidi's set. Lead singer Ella Hooper is so humble, admitting her band feel incredibly moved that we still know the words to their songs 20 years after they were released. Killing Heidi have still got it and Heavensent transports us directly back to 2001. We're told they wrote the next song Kettle when Hooper was aged 13 and her brother Jesse was 15. We then spy a group of lads passing around and swigging from a goon bag in the front stalls. We're aching to hear Weir, but Superman/Supergirl comes first and drummer Adam Pedretti absolutely smashes this one. Frasca is dragged out on stage to add additional flair and fierce girl power to Mascara, which gets the crowd going while we soak up the song's message and reflect back on our teenage selves. Ella punks us in the lead-up to Weir's first chorus, gleefully exclaiming, "Gotcha! This is the album version!" as punters prematurely pogo expecting the chorus to come in. But then, finally, it's time for a deafening screech-along, "WILL YOU MAKE IT IN THE EEEEEEEEND!" Then A Hitch To The Sticks mascot Betty storms the stage to get in on the action - CHOON!

She works super-hard behind the scenes across the weekend and we're stoked to see co-A Hitch To The Sticks festival director Renee Delahunty onsite (especially when she distributes tokens so that hitchers can sample The Malt Shed's exclusive Hitch edition brew). 

As we sip on a bet nectar, we're shattered that it's suddenly time for our final act for this event, Jebediah, to take the stage - how is it nearly over already! Fronted by the perennially youthful Kevin Mitchell (more often seen performing live in his Bob Evans guise of late), Jebediah belt out a string of singalongs including Animal, Leaving Home and Harpoon, and and we're all for it; Mitchell's trademark nasal howl taking a lot of us back to university dorm rooms and occasions where the consumption of way too much beer resulted in loose behaviour on union nights (depending how old you were circa the turn of the century). And let's face it: who didn't wanna be bassist Vanessa Thornton!? She's an inspiration for so many young female artists to pick up an instrument in the first place. 

There's a bit of cleaning up to be done onsite, but those who successfully moonwalk outta there head over to Grand Central Hotel given that Advance Hotel's pool is not an after-party option. Hitchers are buckwild by this stage, dancing just to stay upright and engaging in sloppy pashes that they may or may not regret on the morrow. A Hitch To The Sticks is a weekend of firsts, including many maiden voyages around a stripper pole. Frasca's guitarist Jeff Curran (aka Betty for the weekend) wins Pole Move Of The Night; dude's as strong as an ox and is spied busting out a super-impressive perpendicular-to-the-ground action, supporting his entire body weight with just his arms. What a beast! But then hitcher Sara licks said pole as part of her 'routine' and we decide this signals nigh-nighs o'clock.