Some of the signs for Splendour In The Grass were ominous. The fact that it didn’t sell out having everyone going for the jugular of event organisers and endlessly speculating on whether it was the line up, ticket prices or location at Woodford for the second year in a row that led to it not selling out immediately for the first time in years.
As it happens, the festival was only about 2,000 punters short of capacity and that might have made it just that bit more enjoyable for punters. Approaching on the Friday morning after the manageable drive from Brisbane, the clouds begin to look ominous and many would be glad to have gumboots backed. After a brief splash of rain, however, the weekend’s weather progressively becomes sunnier and warmer, which nestled amongst the green hills and foliage of Woodford makes for an idyllic festival location.
In the mix up tent in the early afternoon Aussie hip hop star Illy has the crowd jumping before treating them to a surprise appearance by rising star Owl Eyes who joins him on stage to reprise their recorded duet of ‘It Can Wait’. After playing to a massive crowd at the Laneway Festival last year the GW McLennan Tent is surprisingly only half full for the gorgeous harmonies and haunting guitar work of Wild Beasts.
The problem of a festival of this depth of line up is of course having to sacrifice watching part of a an artist’s set to make another. The subdued numbers at Wild Beasts are explained as you walk over the rise to the Amphitheatre Stage to be greeted by a massive crowd clogging up almost every single vantage point to see The Kills. Considering their position on the line up it’s a massive crowd and most likely prompted by their slow burning success or more likely their place upon the pantheon of tabloid celebrity, with super model Kate Moss in tow with her boyfriend, guitarist Jamie Hince.
Live, dressed all in black in the blazing sun on a massive stage, the band almost seem a bit monochrome, dwarfed by their surroundings. This doesn’t stop singer Alison Mosshart prowling around the stage with menace, the perfect mix of dominatrix, cougar and siren as she both growls then coos, the crowd entranced by the mix of garage rock and international celebrity.
UK dubstep star James Blake draws a healthy crowd, as evinced by his sold out sideshows in other states and the potent mixture of beats and bleeps adds another air of menance to what otherwise is now a sunny and warm day. This is the perfect environment to head in to the GW McLennan tent for the soothing post punk stylings of Warpaint.
Since their last visit for the Laneway Festival in February, their star has risen dramatically on the back of the complex guitar and vocal interplay of their album The Fool and the tent is packed, with even more females than males present to watch the all girl band play a set of dark dreamscapes, as well as reeling off a few new songs. ’Undertow’ and ‘Billie Holiday’ are captivating and the band seem entirely more assured than on their last visit.
Glasvegas seem dwarfed on the amphitheatre stage and singer James Allen has taken it upon himself to dispense with guitar playing, acting out a sunglass clad rock n’ roll swagger that seems to have lost some of the edge that made the band so fresh and vital when their debut album was released several years ago. New recruit Jonna Lofgren on drums is quite the sticks wielding dervish, throwing her head back and forth in motion with her potent skins bashing during set singalong highlight ‘Daddy’s Gone’ and the stomping ’Geraldine’.
The Hives remain the perfect festival band, the top hatted and be-suited Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist teasing, cajoling and taunting the audience with just the right amount of chutzpah to have them in the palm of his hand. The band’s strut n’ nonsense schtick may have been perfected over the last 20 years to take on a form of faux arrogance, but it pales in comparison with what we’re about to see – the Kanye West show AKA The Ego Has Landed’.
It’s hard to know whether West is having a sly dig at celebrity egos with his performances these days, but whether you’re a fan or now, whether you can deal with his ego the Kanye show is something to behold. Entering by some sort of lift device from the crowd, West cuts a messianic figure as he finds himself surrounded by ballerinas and a stage set that is like something out of David Bowie’s 1984 Floorshow – overblown and bombastic and totally out of place for a festival but totally in keeping with what this festival is all about right at the moment – Kanye and his ego.
It’s truly a sight to behold. The massive crowd of mostly white indie kids are going off tap to the likes of ‘Golddigger’ while to these ears the whole autotune sequence of the show grates – it’s like a slightly more tolerable power drill noise in your ears. It’s not like the guy has no vocal talent – the crowd would certainly like to hear his natural voice you’d think.
He samples Vangelis’ ‘Chariots of Fire’ to introduce the final act as ballerinas writhe under a sheet of parachute material covering the entire stage. As the dancers replicate dying swans during ‘Runaway’ it’ clear that the ego is flying but it’s fabulous to watch. Rumours of Jay-Z and even Russell Crowe joining him on stage don’t eventuate but you can almost understand why – it’s the Kanye show and about nothing else.
