“Melbourne!” Run The Jewels’ DJ bellowed to the assembled crowd of Sydneysiders at Laneway Festival. “Do you want to see Run The Jewels?”
El-P and Killer Mike are born performers. Mike’s loose, bemused presence offsets El-P’s livewire eccentricity, making for a crackling, foreboding energy you could feel from the first beat.
When prompted, the crowd charged their pistol-shaped hands in the air without hesitation as the twosome spat lyrics like, “I put the pistol on that poodle and I shot that bitch”.
The schizophrenic darkness of Run The Jewels’ music was a little incongruous with the blazing sun, a problem also faced by existentialist loner King Krule. That said, not even the heat could suck the magic out of his unique, bleak tracks, especially the despairingly smooth hit ‘Easy Easy’.
Mid-afternoon was the ideal time to take a break and explore the grounds, the Sydney College of the Arts proving a great match for Laneway’s avant-garde vibe. There is something serendipitous about wandering around the pleasant lawns and old stone buildings while the crude lyrics from Run The Jewels echo in the distance.
The inside garden, practically unnoticeable and tucked off to the side of the festival, was a descent into a calming and very unique world of performance art. Human beings – draped in twine, leaves, or plant costumes – were suspended lopsided from pretty much anything possible: the walls, the hedges, the roof, and a tower made out of plastic furniture. Water pitter-patted onto a table of crockery, creating an oasis in amongst the noisy heat of the festival.
Just outside, XXYYXX turned his space into a temporary rave, albeit a hot, lethargic one. Adalita was a rock goddess as per usual, while over on the main stage, Daughters’ reserved strength flowed out over the lawn and held the crowd with a quiet certainty. The three-piece were a great band to watch whilst unwinding in the shade. Even from a considerable distance, the cold intricacies of Daughter’s alt rock were clear and bewitching. Dreamy track flowed into dreamy track, with occasional starbursts of earnest guitar, rapid bass, and dramatic vocals.
There was a surprisingly small crowd at the endlessly fun Parquet Courts, although maybe this was an illusion created by the fact that most people were huddled in the shade to the side of the stage. The longer the day got, the hotter it felt. Still, the Brooklyn four-piece’s messy, danceable garage-punk had a revitalising effect. Even their slow song pulsed with urgency.
Haim jogged onto the stage with little fanfare, plunging immediately into ‘Falling’. Their live show was immaculate, as rich and tight as on record, but with freer and more creative instrumentation. Danielle took the chance to show off her considerable guitar chops, diving into lengthy solos without ever straying into wankery. At one point, the sisters broke into a three-pronged drum solo, an electric reminder of each member’s versatility.
The threesome hit the sweet spot of both excellent musicianship and entertaining showmanship. Este was the most outgoing of the sisters, stripping off to her bra, riling up the crowd, and displaying her infamously hilarious bass faces. The other two had a coolly confident stage presence. Alana – pounding on a huge red drum for much of the set – barely spoke, but jumped off the stage into the crowd during closer ‘Let Me Go’. Together, they (along with drummer Dash Hutton) made for a highly watchable band – so good, in fact, that there was a sudden influx of fence jumpers during their set.
Chvrches frontwoman Lauren Mayberry’s sugar sweet voice poured over the grass, but the huge space meant the music lacked the clarity of their recordings. The elements of their electronica merged together in the open air, losing some of the subtleties of the album. However, this was not entirely a negative. The blunter sound gave their hazy pop more of an edge. ‘Science/Visions’ was ballsier, ‘Lies’ angrier, and ‘Tether’ was spectacular. ‘Under the Tide,’ the only track sang by Martin Doherty, was worth it just to witness his dance moves.
Lorde gets a lot of credit for her songwriting, her age, her personality, and her individuality. So, it’s easy to forget that she also just has an amazing voice. You couldn’t forget it at Laneway. Impossibly clear and with endless texture and depth, she delivered every note of her mesmerising set with diamond-cutting precision.
The 17-year-old appeared slowly striding onto the stage with ‘Bravado’, dressed in a witchy long black dress, combat boots, and purple lipstick. She is a distinctly un-pop like pop star, sinking into loose, full-bodied dance moves like an acid freak at a bush doof, jerking backwards and forwards and clawing her hands, all with a slight, knowing smile on her face.
You could barely hear her during the Grammy-winning ‘Royals’ – so enthusiastic was the crowd. The lawn was then transformed, unprompted, into a sea of outstretched fingers as she sang “I’m kind of tired of being told to throw my hands up in the air” from her hit ‘Team’.
‘Ribs’, she told us, was written with this specific scene in mind – a festival at twilight, trees rustling in the background. It’s hard to imagine a more perfect delivery, and ending, to Laneway Festival.
