The Big Day Out’s status as more than a music festival, rather an essential rite of passage for the current generation of youth has never been more the case. A tight demographic concentration of those in their late teens and early 20s flood in to the Flemington Showgrounds for the sold out event, the naughtier of them enjoying the unusual absence, considering recent times; of police sniffer dogs greeting them as they arrive at the venue. Predictably the tabloid Herald-Sun newspaper will beat up on this issue the following day.
A healthy crowd watch Children Collide tear up the Essential Stage, many seeking shade as the sun reaches the apex of its ascent and the day’s predicted 40 degrees begins to make its mark. Front man Johnny Mackay is a demon possessed on his six string firing up hits such as ‘Social Currency’ and ‘Jellylegs’, while bassist Heath Crawley catapaults himself around the stage like a strung out junkie running from Cash Converters with enough money to score a hit.
Airborne predictably fire up their AC/DC shtick, with front man Joel O’Keefe strutting around playing songs such a ‘Blonde, Bad and Beautiful’ with a straight face, all tunes following the riff heavy major chord progressions that have been their stock in trade since 2003. O’Keefe can’t resist the opportunity provided by the Blue Stage to impress the crowd by smashing a beer can open on the side of his head before taking his infamous stage climbs to new levels by scaling the roof of the stage while still busting out licks.
Similarly to Airborne, Andrew WK’s shtick entails major chord progressions and hard riffing rock licks which all revolve around the theme of wanting us to ‘Party Hard’. Sure he’s a one trick pony musically, but that’s not the point: rather his sheer enthusiasm and boundless energy keep the crowd on the Green Stage thoroughly entertained by pure dumb fun.
Over on the Orange Stage, regular Big Day Out performer Lupe Fiasco gives his hip hop act the rock treatment, with a full band and a somewhat schizophrenic performance which marries rapping over beats, samples, guitars and a full backline. In the Boiler Room, Die Antwoord have the crowd in a state of frenzied anticipation as they take the stage for an epic set of ‘zef’ hip hop, and whether you think they’re a joke act or not, it’s massively entertaining as they bust out ‘Enter The Ninja’; Yolandi Vi$$er’s soothing croon contrasting against Ninja’s macho posturing. The crowd gasps as he takes a flying leap over the barrier, using a photographer as his springboard to leap in to the throng.
Back at the Green Stage, Plan B’s evolution from hard core rapper to genuine soul star attracts a curious crowd for his first Melbourne performance in this incarnation, and amidst the blazing sun as the crowd seek out shade on the side of the arena, it’s clearly a popular one. Sweltering in sharp shirts, pants and waistcoats, Plan B aka Ben Drew’s band throw themselves headlong in to a rollicking set that includes his UK smash hit ‘She Said’ and as well as covers of Paolo Nutini’s ‘Coming Up Easy’ and Seal’s ‘Kiss From A Rose’. A medley of The Temptations’ ‘My Girl’ and Ben E. King’s ‘Stand By Me’ is followed by a hilarious Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation, before the band launch into arguably his finest song, Stay Too Long’. This climaxes with the band throwing themselves on to each other like rugby players on the field, knocking over keyboards and band members until the stage gear resembles the aftermath of a cyclone in a recording studio.
The Boiler Room overflows for Canadian electro duo Crystal Castles, Alice Glass managing to still shriek up a storm on a crutch and moonboot as she braves a broken foot; the icy textures of their electronica a huge contrast to the sweat rising off the crowd in the heat.
The Australian public’s interest in Birds of Tokyo remains unfathomable and their Blue Stage performance of whiny, dirgey commercial rock is yawn worthy. As the John Butler Trio take to the stage, people with taste flee to other parts of the arena, while those rammed up against the barrier on the next stage remind themselves that this is the pain they have to endure for the privilege of begin up against the barrier for Iggy & The Stooges. Performing Raw Power with the newly returned James Williamson replacing the late Ron Asheton, the band launch the set with the frenzied aural violence of the album’s title track. Age may be inevitable, but it has not wearied their ability to spew forth one of the greatest rock albums of all time with menace and vitriol. ‘Search & Destroy’ maintains the lethal sense of nihilistic destruction as Iggy Pop writhes in his usual topless state around the stage, his infamous bare torso now textured like an expensive Italian crocodile skin handbag. The stage is swamped with Iggy’s now traditional call for stage dancers during ‘Shake Appeal’ while ‘1970’ could be a song about 2011 with its description of a Saturday night out and the universal aim to be able to say I feel alright, I feel alright. Increasingly Iggy starts launching himself off the stage and in to the crowd, running long the photographers pit way past the stage and placing his hands on fans up the front, or leaping in to them for good measure. ‘No Fun’ remains as incendiary as it was to the Sex Pistols when they decided to cover it for good measure, while the ultimate rock n’ roll anthem of ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog’ sees teenagers in the crowd, their parents born after the song was released, singing along every word of the verses as well as the chorus. Singling out a girl on the barrier, Iggy informs her that ‘you have a pretty face but it’s going to hell’ before launching in to, unsurprisingly, ‘Your Pretty Face Is Going To Hell’. Then suddenly the rock n’ roll maelstrom is over and Iggy is on the oxygen machine back stage.
Showing that dumb German metal has a huge following, the majority of the crowd remain in the main arena for Rammstein, while a surprisingly small number of people head to the green stage for a truly special performance of another of the greatest albums of all time, 1991’s Screamadelica. Primal Scream take the stage for the album’s epic rock soul opener ‘Moving On Up’, the epic backing vocals of Mary Pierce reinvigorating the song as the sun begins to set in the distance. Rearranging the album, an epic ‘Higher Than The Sun’ demonstrates what a groundbreaking album this was for its time, while the tripped out bliss of ‘Inner Flight’ and soulful mourn of ‘Damaged’ take whole ecstasy experience of time bending gurning and coming down into their respective states. The one-two knock out coming up punch of ‘Loaded’ and the joyous ‘Come Together’ leave the crowd with massive grins as it is collectively transformed in to a state of ecstasy.
Remaining at the same stage, the prog metal of Tool can be heard grinding away in the distance as Grinderman bring their sleaze rock hurricane to what is a storming homecoming festival performance for Nick Cave and Warren Ellis. Joking in a ‘funny because it’s true’ sense, Cave dryly informs the stage’s biggest crowd of the day that ‘the band up here have a collective age of 200 years’ but it doesn’t stop them from unleashing the middle aged crisis of the grouo, the sexless marriage fury of ‘No Pussy Blues’ and the dirty rock squall of ‘Palaces of Montezuma’ leading the crowd in to a frenzy, Cave standing on the foldback and whipping the microphone cord with the passion of a lover wronged.
As the crowd starts swarming towards the exits, MIA prances around the Boiler Room stage, her lack of subtlety a perfect match for those watching who have been caning it all day, alas most waiting for her to play bogan favourite ‘Paper Planes’ rather than her more interesting work.
One of the most eclectic line ups in the event’s history probably curbed the often scary bogan nature of past Big Day Out crowds, and mercifully the misguided ‘nationalism disguised as patriotism with Australian flags worn as capes’ elements of the crowd were tempered at this year’s event. Perhaps this indicates that while fashions and music tribes come and go, the Big Day Out’s standing as a rite of passage will remain.
Jim Murray
