Live Review: Splendour In The Grass 2017 Day Two
Photos by Clare Hawley & Markus Ravik
What a day it was!
The first set of the day at any stage risks being poorly attended, but the crowd gathered under the Mix Up tent for Brisbane rapper Mallrat is impressive both in size and enthusiasm. The young artist has found a growing niche in the hip-hop world for songs that are relatable to millennial teens, writing about being left out of friend's trips Westfield shopping malls and going to Brisbane's Fortitude Valley on a Saturday night because "I've got nowhere to be". She pads out the set with a few covers, including a straight-forward interpretation of Lily Allen's Who'd Have Known, which is a fitting distillation of Mallrat's image and appeal. While the themes of suburban ennui have been well-treaded by musical icons in the past, and are being continually revisited by contemporaries like Drake, it's the extreme locality of her songwriting that sets her apart, and the audience treat her like a local legend because of it, applauding and cheering to fill every silence between songs.
Playing in front of her largest crowd to date, self-confessed "really nervous" Melbourne singer-songwriter Gretta Ray provides some lovely early-afternoon acoustic folk-pop tunes - easing many with sore heads softly into the second day of Splendour. Ray's warm tone, subtle octave jumps, and commanding vocal range help her "songs about feelings" effortlessly float across the GW McLennan tent, encouraging couples and friends alike to sway along to Towers, Unexpected Feeling, and cut from her upcoming debut album, A View Like This.
Kicking off the Amphitheatre on day two are NSW boys Hockey Dad. They hit it off without hesitating, and while the whole set is amazing and full of energy, with people moshing and crowdsurfing the whole way, the highlight of the performance was definitely the crowd convincing drummer Billy Fleming to do a shoey mid-set, and then mates Rian King from Good Boy and Ben Reed from Skegss coming on stage for song Sweet Release, singing along the chorus with frontman Zach Stephenson.
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Confidence Man have wiggled their way into the music scene over the last year, the charismatic four-piece getting raunchier with every new song. Inside the Mix Up tent, black beekeeper masks cover the instrumentalists faces, while Janet Planet and Sugar Bones are still somehow maintaining the energetic synchronised dance routine that has characterised their live shows. The pair wisely choose to take regular breathers throughout the set, before returning to perform ridiculous songs about sex, dancing, and... well, mostly sex and dancing. They gyrate their way through a colourful set list, including Alligators Making Allegations, Bubblegum, and a series of unreleased songs that sound even sillier and sexier, and finish the set with Boyfriend (Repeat), accompanied by a pair of masked dancers in black leotards, one of whom rips her top off to reveal her glitter-encrusted breasts - it may not have seemed possible to summarise this band in three words earlier, but those last three seem to speak for themselves.
Over at GW McLennan tent, Sydney sweethearts Middle Kids are already away, singing to a packed out, adoring crowd. They're crisp and fresh, right what the dusty crowd needs after a night of partying. Hannah Joy looks like an angel up on stage with her guitar, a sweet smile plastered on her face the whole time. It's a feel-good time, and we leave feeling very refreshed.
The boys in black, Luca Brasi, kicked off their set quite literally - kicking AFL footies across the stage and into the crowd, occasionally copping the stray ball the crowd kicked back. Even though the afternoon sun was beating down on the Amphitheatre, punters weren't discouraged from having a good ol' fashioned mosh and singalong with the punk kings. These Tassie Tigers definitely know how to command a stage, even if it just happens to be the biggest and most popular stage of the festival.
Electro act Bag Raiders bring their high impact, glossy electro pop to the Mix Up stage. They tell the tent they'll be turning the place into a dance party and they deliver, with fans responding by blowing bubbles, waving things in the air and having a boogie. They play funky and upbeat club tunes that's hard not to dance to, and dance we did!
As Brisbane singer and songwriter Airling steps under the spotlights in the Tiny Dancer tent, the sounds of Snake Charmer from Bag Raiders are dancing across the small field between the two stages at an alarmingly-high volume. To her credit, she resists the justifiably-tempting urge to make a bigger deal out of it then she does, choosing instead to work together with her drummer and instrumentalist to give a more engaging performance than what's happening just a few metres away. It's not long before Wasted Pilots has the crowd firmly in her palm, and there's a guest appearance from Big Scary singer Tom Iansek to perform a piano ballad called A Day In The Park. However, the timing couldn't be worse, as the sound of Bag Raiders' Shooting Stars has audience members distracted, or even outright spiriting away from this stage in the direction of the other tent. Thankfully, she recovers gracefully with Stallin', Give Me All You Got, and the fittingly-named Not A Fighter, well and truly earning the adoration from the supportive crowd.
The GW McLennan becomes a space of deep intimacy during Julien Baker's performance. She stands centre stage, a lone figure dressed in plain black jeans and shirt, equipped with only two guitars, one amp, and a few pedals. A contemplative lesson in minimalism, her set pushes all else aside in favour of direct, raw emotion, and this has quite the potent effect on the audience. When one forlorn member of the audience cries out, "I love you!" Baker lightens the mood with a quick quip, "I was about to say the same, but it's too soon", then hits us where it really hurts with a stunning version of Something.
Introduced by a clip from their very own DUNIES TV, featuring Shannon Noll and their race to make it to their set on time, Dune Rats arrive at their Amphitheatre set riding dirt bike, navigating past giant inflatable shakas and Young Henry's Dunies Lager tinnies. Bursting with energy and yelling "FARK!" every 30 seconds, they tear through their garage rock set - heavy with tracks from their latest album The Kids Will Know It's Bullshit. The inflatable tinnies appropriately become playthings for the heaving mosh in 6 Pack, before the band launch into stoner anthem Scott Green. There are some surprisingly good three-part harmonies in the lyrically brain-dead Buzz-Kill, but the highlight of the set is easily a Blister In The Sun/Smells Like Teen Spirit/Just Ace medley with Violent Soho's James Tidswell and Grinspoon frontman Phil Jamieson. Danny Beusa's eyes take on their own identity in closer Bullsh*t, and as confetti rains down we're left wondering if perhaps Jamieson slapping a "Do Not Push" sign above a large red button on-stage a few songs ago was for fireworks which didn't quite get launched.
London-based producer Romare, aka Archie Fairhurst, is one of the more expressive DJs out there, in terms of his sheer performativity. He rides each rhythmic groove with animated movements across his decks, and this physicality translates onto the dancefloor, turning what would otherwise seem like a moderately small afternoon gathering into an energised community of beat seekers. The set draws more punters in with each track, becoming increasingly charged as it progresses, and makes the very most of the last moments of the Saturday afternoon sun.
We're back at the Mix Up tent to dreamy electro pop icons Vallis Alps. It's been two years since they last played Splendour (their very first festival performance), and they're right back at the tent where they started, with an eager crowd waiting to receive them. They play a couple of new ones, as well as fan favourites East and Young, full of a calm, quiet energy, vocalist Parissa Tosif's voice resonating through the space.
Adelaide rockers Bad//Dreems rocket out of the gates with a fistful of cavalier gang-vocal pub anthems. Sporting trucker hats, frayed denim singlets and business shirt 'n jeans chic, the five-piece power through Dumb Ideas and Feeling Remains - sung loudest by a bloke in an inflatable T-Rex costume. The consistent chugging riffs from lead guitarist Alex Cameron, pounding rhythms of Miles Wilson, smooth saxophone melodies from Mile's father Keith, and shouted refrains of frontman Ben Marwe fuel an almighty mosh and roaring singalongs. A guest appearance from Robert Forster for My Only Friend and The Go-Betweens' Spring Rain confirms there's so much more to the band and their songwriting than just their boisterous anthems Gutful and Mob Rule.
Bernard Fanning is the ultimate Brisbane everyman. Of course, he's not really, but his enduring appeal stems from the fact that he seems like the type of guy who you could image yourself being if your heart was broken just a couple more times. He opens the set with Isn't It A Pity, Wasting Time, Reckless, and Songbird. He's joined by a versatile four-piece band on stage, who are nimble on Songbird, and truly monstrous during America (Glamour And Prestige), when the band segue into the riff from Black Sabbath's Ironman. He sends Belly Of The Beast out to all of the politicians around the world, proclaiming, "This is a message to all those morons," although it seems unlikely there are any in the audience.
However, there are plenty of Powderfinger fans, and they're delighted when, after performing Sail The Widest Stretch on his own, Fanning invites the members of Powderfinger onto the stage to commemorate the tenth year since their last Splendour performance. The crowd screams and fans rush down the hills of the amphitheatre as Darren Middleton, Ian Haug, John Collins, and Jon Coghill pick up their instruments for (Baby I Got You) On My Mind. It's a euphoric moment if there ever was one at an Australian music festival, and is only topped by the band following it up with the elegiac These Days - it's Australiana dad-rock at its finest. Fanning gives us a farewell with a spirited performance of Wish You Well afterwards, making it a Splendour performance no one can forget.
Kicking it up a notch is New York based rapper Topaz Jones, brimming with energy and enthusiasm from the very minute he bounds onto the Tiny Dancer stage. First he's one way, right up in the crowd's faces, the next he's on the other, singing into his mic with fierce passion. He's an incredible showman, never slowing down, never letting his crowd get bored.
Mix Up is spilling out the sides when Slumberjack start dropping their huge trap beats. The Perth duo have gone from strength to strength recently and the crowd are throbbing like a singular heartbeat in accordance. The pair move similarly, Morgan Then's long braid flying around in ecstasy. They've got a cool light show to match, with strobes and red and purple spotlights zooming around the crowd. Every drop (and there are plenty) sends the crowd into a frenzy - this'll be the start of a long night of partying.
A super-lethargic, stoner vibe permeates the GW McLennan tent the moment Dope Lemon commences. A giant sculpture of their jubilant lemon mascot takes up nearly a third of the stage, leaving the band pushed over to the right side, but it's as if they find the reduced confines of the space preferable. The proximity seems to enable each of the five members to sync in with each other to a greater degree, and this musical chemistry can be heard to flow the set. Though the performance feels a little too brief, a cover of The Animals' House Of The Rising Sun and moody rendition of Uptown Folks go a long way toward making up for it.
Just cutting through the racket Slumberjack are making next door, CC:Disco! seems to be the pick for anyone wearing fur jackets, floral patterns, or just a touch too much glitter. Backed by an evolving montage of D2 shapes and models strutting the Versace Spring '92 collection, Australia's First Lady of Disco spins a fiery mix of bouncy house beats and waves of late '80s synthesisers. The combination of arthouse visuals about mathematical problems and psychedelic Egyptian artefacts, with pulsating retro synths and heavy disco beats, makes the set a delight for the senses.
Future Islands have built their success around the idea that hard work pays off. Whether this has been intentional or not, the band's career has been sustained by the narrative around their break-through performance of Seasons on Late Show With David Letterman after years of performing to smaller audiences. The same idea can be seen in their live shows, as lead singer Sam Herring works his voice and his body to breaking point every night, looking like he's giving his all as he thumps his chest, pounds his forehead, and leaps around the stage. "You guys got me so excited, I forgot that water existed in the world," he pants at one point, covered in sweat, after finally taking a quick drink break. The band's set is a series of fast-paced songs that closely resemble each other, although opener Ran stands out as an early highlight, and Herring goes out of his way to engage the audience by prefacing each song with a personalised, grandiose introduction. Nonetheless, for those who aren't avid fans of the band, his lyrics are often obscured by his garbled screams, and it's not until the well-known Seasons that the crowd really lights up.
Standing at the GW McLennan stage, Dan Sultan is the very image of what a frontman should be. He steers his huge sounding five-piece through a highly-fuelled set with unfaltering confidence, pushing so hard in moments that he struggles free of his jacket after one particularly charged effort, gasping, "I nearly passed out from that song". It's not quite the turnout one would hope for in such a prime time-slot, but Sultan couldn't be more assured in his conviction of the set's success, which he makes explicit by hollering into the mic and victoriously flex his muscles for the final half minute.
The next act we stumble over to see is already packed out by the time we get there, the punters right at the back using the left-over room of the Mix Up tent to dance around to the musical styling of Rag N Bone Man and his incredible backing singers. The tent is filled with his deep, soulful voice, and the groovy backup singers shine like the sun. It reflects onto us, and we dance away and groove along until the crowd of people moves us back out into the festival.
Wearing all white like some future sailors (yes, hi, Mighty Boosh fans), Harvey Sutherland and his live band (also known as Bermuda) are tearing the Tiny Dancer stage a new one when we rock up. It's sassy, in your face, all instrumental electro funk, thanks to some snappy drums courtesy of Graeme Pogson and dramatic electric violins from Tamil Rogeon, who is definitely the showman of the group. Sutherland's using his sample pads to bring the power of horns to the set and it cooks up a rad, ostentatious sound. People are loving the vibe - we even catch a few people snorting a few lines of coke in the crowd and then get back to dancing.
The biggest crowd so far packs tight into the Amphitheatre to catch Welsh stadium rock heroes Catfish & The Bottlemen. From the get-go frontman Van McCann seems hell bent on playing every song like it's the band's last. The one-two punch opening of their debut album, Homesick and Kathleen, sees Van howling like a wolf amongst the overdriven rock gems, gesturing heavily for the crowd to help him with every chorus, which we oblige to unreservedly. The introducing of a booming sub-bass in every bridge and breakdown adds plenty of oomph to their already powerful guitar tones and Bob Hall's pounding drumming. Business sees each member methodically attack their instrument as they tear the song apart in a chaotic breakdown. The triumphant set finishes with the nine-minute-long epic Tyrants, featuring ferocious tribal rhythms and a possessed Johnny Bond zigzagging all over his Les Paul in an inspired solo. After three fake endings and a flurry of strobes, crashing cymbals, and both guitarists squeezing every second of feedback from their amps, the quartet exit the stage and leave everyone craving another hour of The Bottlemen.
Under the red and yellow canopy of the Tiny Dancer tent, Tornado Wallace is spinning up a storm. Cliches aside, the Melbourne producer has as a sizeable crowd for his DJ set, which consists of a quality selection of delicious vinyl. It's all house music, although there's an engaging variety in the songs he's choosing, as saxophone lines and vocal loops intermingle with other samples, making for a dynamic listening experience. His stage presence relaxed, his transitions are flawless, and he closes the set with Chez Damier's celebratory classic, I Never Knew Love, leaving a smile on everyone's faces.
The GW McLennan tent beckons to us like a shining star in the dark night, with the folky, electronic notes of Ãsgeir drawing us in seductively. The Icelandic artist really knows how to put on a show, with the whole tent filled with smoke and soft blue and purple lights, making the whole performance seem ethereal and other-worldly. The songs are light and airy, and seem to float over us, the otherwise unusual lyrics seeming to blend in and make themselves at home.
Everyone we bump into pre-8.45pm is headed to Allday and when we arrive, his stage is filling fast. He's in darkness when he bounds onstage and for much of his first song he's backlit. Sides featuring NYNE is a huge hit with the crowd, sending a ton of Snapchat screens in the air. Claude Monet's a hit too, paired with what seems like footage and animations of the International Space Station behind him. He's a solid singer as well as a rapper, with energy abounds up there.
British two-man tour de force Royal Blood managed to warm up a massive crowd of freezing punters with their riff-driven brand of rock. They smashed their way from hit to hit, only breaking for Ben Thatcher to partake in an Aussie tradition and slam down a shoey (for those unfamiliar, Google is your friend) or Mike Kerr to solo his arse off with his patented fuzzy guitar/bass tones. The pair finished off their set with a drawn-out version of Out Of The Black, with Ben jumping down off the massive stage to get right among the crowd before heading back up to literally smash his drum kit apart (his cymbals fly off his kit multiple times).
It's damn tempting to get lost in the little dance party erupting at the Taurus food truck on the way over to the Tiny Dancer stage, but Late Night Tuff Guy's call to the floor is irresistible. He turns the space is into intensely playful zone, where Cheshire Cat smiles are the order of the night. The set reaches a mighty peak when he drops Prince's Controversy, and the Purple One's funk begins to ooze out of every enraptured body in the tent. Many would claim that it'd be all too easy to add an electro beat to a classic song, but there are few things as good as hearing just the right selection at the perfect timing, and tonight this well-attuned DJ absolutely nails it.
Revellers of all ages buzz excitedly in the smoke-filled GW McLennan Tent, eagerly awaiting legendary Australian singer-songwriter and wordsmith Paul Kelly. After a rapturous welcome from the crowd, Kelly opens the set with Maralinga, dedicated to the recent passing of his dear friend Yami Lester - the buzzing electric guitar sounding ominous against his calm verses. Harmonising beautifully with Vika and Linda Bull, To Her Door, Leaps And Bounds and Deeper Water have the crowd shimmering and singing along like it's one great big karaoke bar. Apart from one track from his upcoming "rock 'n' roll record", it's a set of pure hits - which to Kelly's credit he performs with the same vigour and passion to when he first wrote them decades ago. When I First Met Your Ma sees Kelly flirt with a spoken word delivery, and Vika takes the vocal reigns for a powerful rendition of Sweet Guy. Anticipating wild singalongs, Kelly sings the counter melodies in Look So Fine, Feel So Low, Dumb Things, and fan favourite How To Make Gravy, allowing the adoring crowd to euphorically roar the iconic lyrics. From the very first chiming guitar strum, lighters burn and phones are raised to capture closer From Little Things Big Things Grow, with Kelly humbly cracking a smile between harmonica refrains and his incredible telling of Vincent Lingiari's plight for Indigenous land rights.
Two Door Cinema Club are headlining the Mix Up, and the Irish five-piece have packed-out the venue to capacity. It's a shame then that the bass isn't travelling to the back of the crowd, where most of the audience are squashed, leaving the set sounding tinny. Nonetheless, the guitars sound great, as the angular sounds of Cigarettes In The Theatre and Undercover Martyn open the performance. There's a frenetic quality to the show, and the band seem to be playing faster live, making the whole experience a lot to take in, particularly when there's not much to hold on to in the song-writing department - "she spoke words of wisdom" is about as vague as pop lyrics can get. Indeed, it's hard not to compare this hollow light show to what's happening in the GW McLennan tent where Paul Kelly is currently playing. Anyway, the crowd here seems to be having a good time.
Having frequented Australia festivals since they first burst into the limelight on the doorstep of the new millennium, Queens Of The Stone Age have been well-overdue at this festival for quite some time. Their arrival, however, couldn't have come at more opportune time. Their last long player, ...Like Clockwork, saw them return sounding the most creatively invigorated since 2002's Songs For The Deaf, and tonight, just a month out from the release of the new album, they sound every bit as inspired. The interplay between the guitars could very well be the most dynamic on display at the festival all weekend, and their ability to stretch and slow down the timings of their songs is simply mesmerizing. Though they completely overlook their phenomenal debut, it's hard to be disappointed with a setlist that draws so heavily from the two aforementioned albums, and by the time Song For The Deaf's title track draws the set to a climatic close, they've delivered in almost every way imaginable.
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