Though it’s touted as Meredith’s sister event, with an ever so-slightly-smaller capacity and lineup, in seven years, Golden Plains has already become the worthiest of companions to Aunty Meredith’s main, year-end event.
For those having withdrawals, it’s the perfect end-of-summer salve, and even four months on from Meredith Music Festival’s 22nd outing, the scorching high 30s heat and perfect blue skies make Lucky 7 feel like a reprise of the sunblasted conditions of its December counterpart; minus the dust storms that is.
A grateful blessing for those setting up their tented cities, and with many jovial references to Game Of Thrones, it’s not long before tarps and marquees spring up across the leafy camping grounds, and the eskies begin to be emptied of their tinnies.
Over at the ever-gorgeous Supernatural Amphitheatre, real estate is equally beginning to be scouted and planted. A vibrant hive of activity as squads manoeuvre their day’s supplies across a small city of couches, rugs, and banana lounges.
Despite previous horror stores of wet mud and unforgiving rain, the luck is well and truly with GP Lucky 7, and already punters’ novelties begin to dapple the hillside.
Bubble blowers, water misters, stuffed animals on poles, beer can-fashioned pitchforks, and even one gnome-cradling bloke all making an appearance as the audible but amicable chatter of meet and greets provides a dull hum beneath the festival’s opening act.
Starting honours are Melbourne’s dual-drumming, six-strong Money For Rope, filling in as replacement for an ill Sixfthick.
Slightly ironic then, that the group’s energetic frontman Jules McKenzie shattered his ankle just days out from the event, but here he is, wheelchair-bound, giving a performance that holds him and his bandmates back none from their usual rock swagger.
The rollicking ‘Ten Times’ proves that they’re a good pick for a boisterous start, driven by their two drummers’ battering, maelstrom of rock momentum against roaring guitars with muscular charm that suit the weather and mood just fine.
Two giant confetti balls totter over a sea of hands raised for Kiwi-based Kody Nielson’s OPOSSOM. As a former member of the Mint Chicks, and sibling to Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s Ruban Nielson, Kody shares his brother’s fascination for fizzing 60s pop, as filtered through an acidic kaleidoscope.
Like UMO, he also plays as a power trio, but with a distinctive electronic bent and reflective psychedelia that recalls The Flaming Lips as they steer through highlights from Electric Hawaii.
They’re a class act but hamstrung by their early timeslot and bruised sound mix; Neilson pausing mid-set to ask if they’re audible or simply “too woofy” They are, but still claim early highlight status and surely would have been the talk of the day in a later timeslot.
The first of two appearances from “Australia’s oldest English teacher,” Barry Dickens follows. He gives some ‘unimportant’ poetry, and if you’re listening, it provides one of those rare extra-festival hoots that Aunty Meredith is renowned for.
If you’re not – which many aren’t – the political tones to his sermons are a bit on the nose, especially this early in the afternoon; more tunes please.
Hailing from Greece, and playing music traditional to his homeland, it’s safe to say that Psarandonis was the first act of the festival that most punters would never have come into musical contact with had it not been for Aunty Meredith.
Despite his anonymity, the European musician and his two bandmates managed to get the crowd jumping along to his muttered vocals and traditional instruments.
Known as one of the world’s best lyra players (a three stringed bowed musical instrument that looks like a tiny cello), Psarandonis was accompanied by a percussionist and second string player and despite the threesome sitting on stage for the entire 40 minute performance, the Greek musical visionary made punters dance, groove, and get warmed up for the acts to follow; the first golden surprise for Golden Plains.
“Hey,” comes the gentle call from Wild Nothing’s clean-cut Jack Tatum, “how you going?”
And with that plaintive intro, the quartet dive straight into their synth-influenced indie rock. With coloured smoke wafting in the background and the retrofitted twang of Telecasters equally clinging in the air, the American outfit’s 80s lite posturing sees swathes of loose hips swaying in tandem.
With their boyish looks and choppy yet polite grooves, they whisk through selections from Gemini and Nocturne with a kind of fey precision, and while there’s not much substance to their dreamy soundtrack, there’s nothing really too offensive about them either.
Next, the traditional housekeeping sees ‘Freak Out’ claiming soundtrack victory in the audience chosen poll, against Slayer’s ‘Angel of Death’ and Watch The Throne’s ‘Ni##a$ in Paris,’ (personally, a bit of a shame).
No Zu, the six-strong offshoot of Rat Vs Possum, mine a rich vein of experimentalism but deliver it on such tasty platters of percussive-led, funk grooves that they never sound too out there.
Daphne Shum provides a strong visual and vocal focal point, while the squonking eccentricities from Nicolaas Oogjes keeps things from slumping into the conventional.
Their set would’ve benefited under cover of dark, but the dust is still joyfully kicked up to their mutant disco, pre-empting the late-night antics to come as a flashing, persistent light show holds up with their squalling carnival of sound
Wonky, delayed horns, fluctuating rhythms, and rich textural patterns command movement and combine to feel like David Byrne coming down with a serious case of calenture.
As contrasts go, the shift from No Zu’s rubbery rhythmic pulses to the singer-songwriter simplicity of The Tallest Man On Earth is one of Golden Plains’ biggest.
Kristian Matsson arrives with a theatrical hop before diving straight into ‘King of Spain’, enchanting the crowd with naught but the conviction of his Dylanesque guitar, vocals, and songwriting.
Even without the light backing of his recordings, his striking, nasal delivery and rich playing infer the melodies and harmonies absent.
You’d think it’d be heavy going for a solo act to keep the larger throngs now building at The ‘Sup engaged, but the Swedish troubadour makes it look easy, providing intensity and sheer talent despite the inherent delicacy of his arrangements.
His hummable melodies and husky croon match his dazzling guitar plucking, and though not a typical festival act, he wins the first few tries for the coveted Golden Boot; something that endearingly baffles the performer who openly asks what is happening.
Unaware and unimpeded by the festival tradition, he moves through the spritely ‘Leading Me Now’, haunting ‘Where Do My Bluebird Fly’, and a turn of ‘Criminals’ that “goes out to Cat Power.”
Before he departs, he captures hearts and voices once more, whipping through ‘The Wild Hunt’ before seguing into a lovely, harmony-laden duet of Paul Simon’s ‘Graceland’ with his musical wife Amanda Bergman. It’s a golden moment that sees a few more thongs dotting the horizon.
When the incomparable Chan Marshall and her four-piece band hit the stage, the tension in the crowd was palpable. After a 40 minute wait after the end of Tallest Man On Earth’s closing number, punters were antsy to see what the Nashville musician would offer.
As she opened her mouth and delivered the first few pained and perfect lines of her monster hit ‘The Greatest” the emotionally captive audience let out a collective sigh, as everyone knew, this was to be the beginnings of a beautiful, if emotionally exhausting set. Giving it her absolute all in between cigarettes and swigs, Marshall laid out some of her biggest hits, sprinkled with cuts off of her latest effort, Sun.
While murmurs from Cat Power traditionalists could be heard (“Play ‘Sea Of Love’!”), the gathered weren’t too divisive and most got into her upbeat new material, most notably “3,6,9” which provided a nice break from the heartache heard in most every other number.
Despite the beauty and simplicity of her romantic crooning, the highlight of her set came when the amazing J. Mascis joined Ms. Marshall on stage for a few numbers. As the crowd visibly jumped for joy, Marshall uttered some of her only words of the night, introducing her new musical partner in crime “ladies and gentlemen, Mr. J Mascis”.
The silent guitarist launched into the intro of ‘Metal Heart’ before accompanying Cat Power on a cover of INXS’ seminal hit ‘Never Tear Us Apart”. The pair’s ode to Australia floored festival-goers as the heavier-than-average guitar perfectly complimented the singer’s husky gravel.
With the inclusion of both iconic artists on stage, the festival was made. It would be hard to picture anything that weekend eclipsing that once-in-a-lifetime duet, but when at Golden Plains, it’s never safe to speak too soon.
As after most every act of the festival, the crowds parted following Cat Power leaving the space in front of the stage clear; as the iconic Massachusetts three-piece took to the stage, a large-ish group had formed only to disperse three songs in and never return.
It could be seen to be understandable; Dinosaur Jr play loud and aggressive and after two quiet, folky, emotional sets, perhaps punters just weren’t ready for some good old-fashioned alt-rock.Those who braved nearing the speakers weren’t left disappointed though.
Playing a huge proportion of their most famous cuts, as well as tracks from 2012’s hit record I Bet On The Sky, devout fans weren’t left disappointed by the exhaustive setlist. The threesome even indulged those in the know and played their cover of The Cure’s ‘Just Like Heaven’.
No discernible tension could be felt between Lou Barlow and J. Mascis, and in fact the two shaggy haired visionaries even shared some cheeky smiles; most notably when Barlow, who took care of all the stage banter, proclaimed: “this is a song from when we were young and we used to play music faaaasssstttttttt”.
For those who love high gain, an insane amount of feedback, and a cavalier ‘fuck you’ attitude, Dinosaur Jr were just tops.
Scoring a midnight slot between major drawcards to a crowd of thousands, most who had never heard of them let alone their lone single, it’d be fair to think Client Liaison had managed some kind of coup.
Instead, the synthpop duo delivered a career-making set that was one of the festival’s highlights. Assuming you were in on the gimmick of course.
If the Pet Shop Boys had been borne of Sydney instead of Chelsea, and spent the 80s honing their arch, self-reflexive pop to skewer Australian iconography like Ansett Airways, Christopher Skase, and John Farnham, they almost definitely would have become Client Liaison.
Their dated hooks, yuppie chic, and yacht rock threads extend to their genius stage set-up: a fax machine, water cooler, and Diner’s Club placard.
The unapologetically mulleted Monte Morgan delivers smart, withering couplets in a tenor that skates beautifully off Harvey Miller’s icy, antique electronica, nowhere better than on ‘End Of The Earth’, before returning topless with a gaudy neck tiara that’d make late 70s Prince weep for mercy.
With their winning half-hour set complete, the inky black settled on the ‘Sup stage for another electronically charged, but very differently constructed musical duo.
It was thought that Purity Ring might do for Golden Plains what Grimes did for Meredith, providing a schizophrenic brand of futurist pop, such as their fellow countrywoman Clare Boucher did.
Instead, the late-night setting provided a more hypnotic and restrained but no less inspired set out of Corin Roddick’s deft production and the cooing lilt of vocalist Megan James.
The stunning lightshow, strings of crimson paper lanterns dotting an ever-shifting glow of colours that frame the pair, compliments and scores the pair’s dreamy electronica beautifully, and given their swift rise to fame, it’s a far more polished show than expected of a group so young.
Banter is blisfully non-existent as they work through the hazy, glistening corners of Shrines, with ‘Belispeak’ and ‘Fineshrine’ proving memorable highs amongst an enjoyable blur of adorned beats and ambient-hewn riches.
As his last set before heading off to SXSW to take a whole new continent of people by storm, most were expecting grand things from Flume’s Golden Plains set.
It seemed most every festival-goer was crowded in the amphitheatre waiting for the young Harley Streten to take to the stage and give everyone permission to dance (only after a team of seven set about preparing his laptop).
The first 15 or so minutes of his set were divisive, with Streten opting for soft house-inspired beats, which many weren’t expecting. As the short performance went on however, more hip-hop influenced drops came to the fore and the crowd eventually conceded and went absolutely off.
The biggest Flume-induced thrill came when the young’un played a remix of his collaborative monster hit with Chet Faker ‘Left Alone’, followed by his popular take on Hermitude’s ‘HyperParadise’.
While many punters may not have been sure what to expect (or had already dismissed him due to his popularity), the young producer brought what was so desperately needed: some slow jams everyone could get their grind on to.
Melbourne’s own Post Percy rounded out the first day with dance-infused beats that kept those who wanted to keep going, going. As his deep house four-four’s came to a finish, a relative lights out took place; it was evident that as at every visit to Meredith, thousands of people went to bed satisfied that they’d basked in a truly special musical experience. Rugged in their beds, basking in the knowledge that was another whole day of it yet to come.
Check out the review of Day Two of Golden Plains HERE
