Lanie Lane @ the Hi Fi, 31st May 2012 VS Kirin J Callinan, Black Bear Lodge, 21st May 2012

VS 

BLOGFIGHT!

I've decided that part of the reason why I am so terrible at posting reviews on time is that I take far too many words to review them. Less is more, as they always say, and I don't necessarily have to take 1000 words to say something that can be better said in 500. So, concise.tight.reviews. is my plan. With that in mind, I'm going to review Lanie Lane and Kirin J Callinan in the same review, and I will decide which I liked better, and the winner gets more song plays from me! AND I'm going to be as brief as I can about both of them. 


Lanie (pronounced "Lannie", somehow) Lane, has won over Rockwiz viewers and general Australians, bad teeth and all, with her 1950's rockabilly country pop style, and all the fashion and hairstyle trimmings to accompany it. It's a selective genre, one I've not been very familiar with or really found an interest in. 
But for one parental birthday or another, I went along to the Hi Fi, Dad's favourite venue of choice (see 'Damned' review), to see her perform. Upon our arrival, the Rubens were already deep into their set, a band who is gaining a lot of momentum on Triple J at the moment. I really liked their effortlessly bluesy rock style, with a heartfelt croon which particularly stands out in their current single "Lay It Down". I even, almost, bought an EP.
Lanie was a happy, excitable young lady backed with a very exceptional band who accompanied her soulful voice well. She belted out her songs with emotion and thrill, playing guitar along with them. Throughout the tunes she threw in a couple of words about the songs, stories of love and loss, gentlemen and country livin', culminating in that one song I'd heard, "Oh Well, That's What You Get For Falling In Love With A Cowboy". Throughout the set I was very impressed with her talent and skill, and the way she and the band complemented each other so well. But I was sadly, and sorry to admit, a bit bored. The fact is, as I said, hers is not the type of music I'm that fond of, and it was really the style I was bored of. The only time it was changed up at all was during a duet with Lanie and her guitarist (Aidan Roberts), who sang a song about drugs that he had written. My parents thought it was a bit wanky, and as Lanie listed off a bunch of substances while backing Aidan's chorus, it kind of was. But it was also a very beautiful, stripped back song, that put the spotlight on Lanie's voice as well as showcasing Aidan's nicely. 
Despite my waning interest, there was a full crowd tonight, and her popularity is for good reason. The girl has talent in spades and is obviously beloved for bringing old fashioned country music to a mainstream(ish) audience. She's even supporting Jack White on his Australian Tour. So, great job Lanie, and I'm sorry I don't like you more.

Lanie: No fucks to give.

Then, a few weeks later on a Thursday night after a lovely dinner with a good friend, I accompanied my gig buddy/boyf to see Kirin J Callinan at Black Bear Lodge. I knew nothing about his old band the Mercy Arms, or himself, or what kind of music he performed (Triffids meets My Bloody Valentine was my reference point), but was happy to see something new... as I usually am!
After two support bands, one averagely ambient (DCM), and another much more entertaining and indie-licious (Nite Fields), we were both ridiculously tired. But thankfully, Kirin arrived with his super unique haircut: perfectly shaped black fringe with shaved head and very short straight mullet at the back of his neck. 
Already fans were urging him to take off his shirt, to which he replied smoothly "In time, in time". I'm not sure if it was necessary, but he kept to his word upon reminder. 
Anyway, to the music. I'm at a weird stage in my taste where I've discovered Rowland S. Howard, and now any angsty weird guy who sings with a deep voice sounds like him. I can't be objective enough to tell you if Kirin actually does, but he reminded me of Rowland anyway. Kirin had a band with him, all decked out in hospital masks, which he proudly told us he paid $2 each for. However, I'm not convinced they were necessary, as Kirin, his amazing, powerful, vibratoing voice, and his guitar that went from whispering to howling in seconds with hardly a strum, would have been enough. 
After a couple of songs (I can't tell you what they were called, and I doubt setlist.com will be able to help me), in which all ears and eyes were glued to the stage, Kirin took to a different form of entertainment: spruiking autographed framed pictures of himself. It was pretty amusing and if they weren't a bit creepy, and I had the money, I would have bought one for the heck of it. His stage presence was pretty incredible and he had a really professional, and comfortably natural way with the crowd, despite having an appearance about him that would suggest a more timid, troubled genius. 
His songs were confronting, heartbreaking, jarring, and shoegazey, and he conveyed so much with his voice, and accompanying facial expressions, it was easy to forget how tired I was and just watch the magic unfold. I was pretty well won over. They didn't have time to do a couple more as they had to drive back to Sydney, so it felt a lot shorter than it should have been, but very satisfying. 

"When I told her, I didn't love her anymore, she cried."

While his recorded stuff is good, he's really best to see live, so if he's ever around your way, do yourself a Steve Brule and CHECK IT OUT. 


Lanie gets 7 out of 10 Peggy Olson 1960 Fringes, and Kirin gets 8.5 out of 10 Kirin J Callinan 2012 Fringes. KIRIN WINS! A toast.


p.s. Ah Blogger, you were doing so well, and now you're doing weird random highlighting that I can't turn off. I apologise on behalf of blogger, readers.

Bon Iver (with Sally Seltmann), The Tivoli, Friday 16th of March

Riding well off the back of his recent grammy win, in which even One Direction fans want to know who Bonny Bear is, Bon Iver came to Brisbane for a rare three (3) shows, to appease all the new and old fans that have multiplied tenfold in the last year. The shows were announced way back in December last year, at which time I was pretty excited, until Justin Vernon and co.'s 'flavour of the month' status overshadowed everything else.
It was easy to get back into excitement mode when a Thursday night concert goer friend raved about how great he was, and also went and met him not a kilometer from where I was doing nothing in my house. DAMMIT!

Old Sal

My gig buddy tonight was my dear brother who had joined in on the Bonny bandwagon around the same time I had. We rocked up in time to see New Buff... I mean Sally Seltmann. I could be biased, but Sally didn't have quite the same stage presence that she did a fair few years ago under the moniker of New Buffalo. Now that she is riding off the back of female supergroup Seeker Lover Keeper, I guess the audience wasn't as excited as they would have been had SLK been onstage, and hence she played a lot of their songs. She also gave us a few new songs from her self-titled solo album, as well as a couple I recognized from her later New Buffalo repertoire. Despite the disconnect, she sounded lovely and I very much enjoyed it- her angelic voice still comes across well onstage. Sally's also definitely migrated from her days of pressing play on a backing track while singing into a microphone, as she did the first time i saw her in 2005 supporting Bright Eyes. Somehow I just remember more people being a little more transfixed by her back then.

The stage for Bon Iver was made up quite ruggedly with hessian draped around as if we were in a cabin in the woods. He's come a long way since those 'For Emma, Forever Ago' days, as he came on amid huge cheers. Everyone wants a piece of Bon Iver now, and I guess three sold out shows are testimony to that. As predicted by my brother (with a very accurate imitation of the opening chords), Justin and the band started off with the first song, "Perth" from the latest album 'Bon Iver, Bon Iver'. Live, it was a spot on, moving interpretation of the record, which is what I imagined it to be. From the quiet, building opening notes, to it's crashing crescendo, every sound filled the theatre, leading into the second song "Minnesota, WI". It was quite magnificent, and when Justin started to sing, I didn't expect it to sound quite so hauntingly beautiful. He sounded so true to recording, strong and echoey, I wondered if there were any effects going on. And even if there was it was still impressive.
The excellence went on from there and he played a wonderful selection of all the fan favourites, including "Blood Bank" off his title EP, and even "Brackett, WI" which he did for the brilliantly compiled 'Dark is the Night' compilation. 

The musicians were fantastic, and you really couldn't fault them for a second. As they left and Justin took the stage solo for "Re: Stacks", it was a delicate, gorgeous and sniffle-inducing moment. The only thing you could fault was that I realized just how similar their songs sounded and how much of a style Bon Iver have created. It is a style that is is not to everyone's taste, and can at times be in danger of getting old. In fact, there were a couple of moments where i did find my mind wandering... but to be honest that does happen at gigs, and it's not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes I can think through an entire problem situation at a gig; it can be a nice place to reflect. (Unfortunately I cannot count gigs toward psychological professional development).

Old mate

Coupled with the brilliant music was the band's, and particularly Justin's, laid back manner. Despite the opportunity to be high and mighty, there is no pretension with this man, and he engaged the crowd as a genuine, down to earth fellow who could be your mate, just doing what he loves and having a good time. 


I have to mention the worst part of the show however. I became so mad about a group of metrosexual-appearing guys behind me that I wonder if i am actually getting quite senile, bitter and twisted. In addition to one of them doing the '*tap shoulder*, *look the other way*' routine to me before the performance, these guys nattered and laughed through the whole performance (because obviously Bon Iver is also a comedy group???). It reached breaking annoyance point when one of them said 'Where are we going afterwards?' and another asked 'Who is this guy again? He's good.' This happened while "Skinny Love" was being played. I was looking forward to hearing the ultimate sad times/break up/depression song transcending onstage and letting it wash over me, but I COULDN'T thanks to their giggling and chatting. I detest that feeling of someone laughing behind you; you wonder if they are laughing at you, know it's probably ridiculous, but continue to be unsettled anyway, and want to punch them all in their collective face. Instead of doing this however, I looked around and glared at them evilly. It did nothing, but I felt slightly more satisfied than if I had just stewed in my spot.


I just DON'T UNDERSTAND, if you don't know who a band is and you'd rather go pick up chixx at the Met, then why are you paying $65 to see a musician at a venue full of his fans? If you're not a fan, and are going to talk the entire time, then go away. I know this may sound hypocritical, because I did do this at Gareth Liddiard's show a year ago, but I was at the window rather than in the crowd, and he was a complete dickhead and sounded like shit. Sorry Drones fans, but not really. Bon Iver on the other hand were amazing, and I felt they were disrespecting the band by doing this. Support acts can suffer from the audience talking through their set, but that is kind of expected since people aren't there to see them, but during the main act... there is an exit. 
Now that rant is over, I feel dirty and like I should be writing to mX or A Current Affair. I just think there should be some mosh pit etiquette to follow. Why don't we list some etiquette rules now since we're in this mind funk?? No? Too bad. 


1. Don't fart. Hold it in. Go to the toilet. Don't fart. For the love of god. 
2. Keep your laughter and loud chats and stupid opinions to yourself. If you want to say a lot of things, use the text on your phone.
3. Don't lean on me, I'm not a pole, or a chair.
4. Do be expected to have your personal space ratio go out the window, and expect it to be somewhat smaller. Don't get too bothered when people accidentally touch you. Having said that, you are entitled to a bit of breathing space..
5. If you want to jump/dance/go mad, please be respectful of people who don't want elbows in their chins and their face on the floor.
5. If you want to drink, buy a couple beforehand. Don't try to go to the bar and get back to the exact same spot you were before, unless you're happy to be cursed by a lot of people. 
6. Putting your arm up in the air and pointing throughout the entire song is not only bad for your arm health but I don't want to watch/ take a photo of your arm. Feel free to point it up and down though, I can kind of work with that.
7. If you have diabetes, take your insulin. If you don't have your insulin shot, and you're about to faint, get the fuck out of the mosh pit. Don't eat my lollies out of my hand with your slimy tongue. I don't care how big of a Björk fan you are. 


I'm sure there are many rules that you, reader, could come up with and share with me. So maybe you should!!


Bonny Bear gets 8.5 "wanna be combovers and Minanite beards" out of 10.

The Damned, The Hi Fi, Thursday 19th January, 2012

Back in "the day", Triple J ran a Hottest 100 songs of all time. This was in 1998 when I was in primary school and living in Caboolture and the Hilltop Hoods didn't exist. I remember voting for "Joga" by Björk and also "Happiness" by Regurgitator, because, you know, they were the best songs of all time. Dad voted for "Smash it Up" by the Damned, the English goth punks from the 70's. I remember he wrote as his 25-words-or-less rationale: “because in my youth I often wanted to smash things up and I'd be damned if the Damned got there first”. My dad probably doesn't remember this, but I do. Years later, I discovered the Damned for myself, after finding a CD copy of 'Machine Gun Etiquette' and buying it for him, and have since forever associated Dad as being a big fan of that band. And no amount of mum saying 'But he HATES the Hi Fi!' could stop me from buying him a ticket to their show for Christmas. What followed was a lovely daddy-daughter evening, where I ate a leek tart at a restaurant that served possum, and had 2 glasses of very nice wine (Dad = still able to drive; me = wheeeeeeeee!)

The Damned were scheduled to start at 9.30, a welcome early start for the Hi Fi – I still remember walking out of there after 1am one night while Tim Rogers was continuing to prance about. We still had a half hour wait ahead of us, so grabbed a drink as Dad lamented on how much he hated the Hi Fi: Me- "Well the Tivoli has a name behind it where as the Hi Fi is still gaining one." Dad- "The Hi Fi has a name. It's “crap”." 
Granted, it is a pretty terrible sounding venue, not quite as bad as Woodland, but one of those place where it is better to be situated in the middle back area than anywhere else. And when you're at a "rock show", you naturally want to experience it as close as possible, am I right?

Which is exactly what happened. Expecting myself to lead the way into the surprisingly large, goth-dressed crowd of all ages, Dad actually took the initiative to force us through people with gusto, pushing us through without a thought for some of the annoyed comments they gave. Slightly embarrassed from being "those people", I also couldn't help but be proud of my Dad the middle aged pusher-inner-er. How very rock & roll. 

The band kicked off with cheers from the crowd, with an immediately gritty tune I didn't recognise; "Neat Neat Neat". The band wasn't overly 'dressed up' as what must have been the case in their heyday, but they were definitely in signature style. Captain Sensible looked like he had stepped out of a french cartoon with his trademark beret and sunnies, and a brightly striped shirt with "FREAK" written on it. Lead singer Dave Vanian was only subtly vampirish with suit, sunnies and a slightly pasty appearance. Together they looked like a motley crew of ageing dudes still kind of stuck in the 70's but with absolutely no shame.

Together they played a tight, energetic set, which sounded pretty decent despite the aforementioned limitations of the Hi Fi. Avian and Sensible's voices sounded slightly matured but still strong and sporting that Brit-punk accent. To me, their style and sound has always felt similar to that of the Stranglers, and I couldn't help thinking that throughout their show. Luckily for me they played a nice helping of 'Machine Gun Etiquette' songs, including "I Just Can't Be Happy Today", and "Love Song", as well as their other big hit, "New Rose", and many other songs that held true to their raw style. There was a lot I didn't know, but all of it was pleasing to my ears and bopping feet, and reminded me of how much I love this era's music. Even though I'm too young to ever really fully appreciate what it was all about, the punk rock and new wave of the 1970's-1980's somehow makes me feel at home, safe and happy. Maybe, or likely, it's just my parents' constant churning out of its music in my younger years that has done that for me; combined with the fact that its songs will always be there, untainted, permanent and still fresh, while new music continues to deteriorate with re-hashing, mass production and autotune.

bassist Stu West, Dave, and Sideshow Bob (aka Monty Oxy Moron)

Anyway, the show continued with the band not losing an atom of energy, and sharing their joy at playing their catalogue to an old and new audience. Capt. Sensible and at times Dave addressed the crowd between songs with reminiscence, such as Sensible's musings about Malcom McLaren, and his acknowledgement of the Saints: "Everyone thought the Sex Pistols started punk. But I think it was the band right here that did it!" Cue cheers and claps. After slogging through a fair amount of typically short punk tunes, they exited for a few minutes in preparation for their encore. I have to say, waits for encores have been very short lately, which has been both pleasing and efficient. Good job bands!
They came out with their 1985 hit cover "Eloise". During the show I had been looking over at my dad from time to time to ensure he was enjoying himself, which he appeared to, but I knew that it would have all been given a sub-par rating if they didn't play "Smash It Up" (parts 1 AND 2). At this point I suddenly worried they weren't going to play it. But luckily, as "Eloise" finished, the moment came when Dave announced the next song. The opening chords of "Smash It Up parts 1 and 2" began and the already energetic vibe was increased 3 fold. As part 1 kicked into part 2, I couldn't help but jump at the awesomeness. It was a wall of raw, explosive, joyous sound (always *good for a Hi Fi gig*). Dad looked a bit more smiley. As the song finally subsided in it's lazy final lyrics, it was an awesome ending to the show. We battled the crowd out with ringing ears and I finally felt comforted in my choice of birthday present for Dad; we were both glad we came. The Damned has proven that despite it being 2012, they can still draw a crowd and replicate the feel of 1979, showing there is a reason they still stand out as one of the first successful punk bands of all time.

Then, while youtubing for this post, I found this cover of Love's "Alone Again Or". Every punk band that doesn't die with the genre inevitably ends up making musical mistakes. But why did they do this? It just sounds the same but with 80's tackiness splashed all over it. WHY? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY???? Why.


8 red berets out of 10. 

tUnE- yArDs (with Wintercoats and Fox & Sui), Corner Hotel, Richmond VIC, Sunday 14th January 2012

8am Sunday morning I travelled to Melbourne for essentially one purpose: To see the lady who has restored my faith in modern music of today and in the future. It has come to mine and others attention that I have become a bit obsessed with Merril Garbus, the brain behind tUnE-yArDs. I was still exhausted from the hours of supporting myself at the Arctic Monkeys gig that night before, and was travelling on about 4 and a half hours sleep, but I spent the day around the city resisting all ideas of napping. Pepped up to the point of jitters on 2 mochas and a berocca, I found my way to the Corner Hotel in Richmond, with a half hour to explore before the support acts began. 

I was surprised by the lack of people as support act Wintercoats began- an act I had discovered a few weeks earlier with interest, and is getting a decent amount of 4ZZZ airplay of late. I must admit, I'm stupid when it comes to appreciating something for what it is, and instead end up comparing stuff to the experiences I've already had. And while doing this, in my experience, a Brisbane show usually has ten times the huddle of people for the first support act than the Corner did. (Is the Melbourne music scene so thriving that people don't care much for their local music? Sorry no, I'll stop judging..) 
Anyway, Wintercoats was an engaging, awe inspiring show, in which James Wallace carried his performance with merely a violent, loop pedal, and his voice. He did everything imaginable to that violin to create the sounds of his latest creations: strummed, plucked, played, tapped, even sang into it, and the result was quite ethereal and magnificent. While I applauded his ingenuity and creativity (and ability to plow through his songs without a beat), it also made me inspired that if one guy with a violin can do all that, I wouldn't need much to make my own live musical project. Except maybe.. talent... commitment... lessons... and money...

Anyway, James trotted off and not much of a wait later the young looking pair Fox & Sui replaced the stage with an array of synths, a bass and some greenery. My immediate reaction was "Indie! Oh god the indie!". But as the music began it went to show that first impressions can be deceiving and I should keep my snobbery to myself. While very style driving (maybe Little Dragon meets Beach House) the music was catchy, breezy, and danceably enjoyable, even enticing a couple of hipsters to dance at the front as the rest of us sat comfortably. They expressed their happiness that so many came to support them and mentioned already having seen tUnE-yArDs at Sugar Mountain festival already (rub it in yeah?). The only thing that fit my original judgment was their insistence upon using a watery rainforest noise effect in between every single song. 


So moving along, the thing that I don't really have experience with at the Corner was the curtain, drawn before each act. It prolonged the mystery of what we'd expect when tthey opened, however distanced us a bit from the artists themselves. It also prevented me from acting on my decision to grab a setlist after the show. Disappoint. As I waited for it's final parting I overheard one audience member say perhaps too loudly "At least there aren't many lesbians here tonight! Last time there were only lesbians!"... 
Anyway the curtain finally were drawn to slap past my eager face and see Merril right up to the microphone with her two drums either side of her- all distance gone as she was so damn close to me. Hence, photo GOLD. 

VIEW= A+!!!

bassist Nate Brenner

She kicked off with a few minutes of improvised howling, growling and vocal sretching which in one way was a bit alienating but in another, fixating. Her vocals then began to be looped as her bassist and sax duo turned up, and together they presented us with "You Yes You". Oh.. words escape me. I'd seen Youtube videos of the band in live action, Merril prepping herself with her loop pedal, drums and ukelele, and playing her heart out with her signature screech; but nothing could compare to the real thing. Seamlessly she began her harmonies and lead the band in, each song keeping to absolutely faultless timing without a whisper of a prompt.  

Merril and Sex I mean Sax Crew

I can't emphasise the timing enough; in the next explosive selection, "Gangsta", the bridge with its schizophrenic timing was executed like magic... I was gobsmacked. It would have been more awe inspiring had I NOT seen the videos but they had got me excited for the gig (and probably initiated me to actually travel for it), so I REGRET NOTHING. For all I know it was all extremely rehearsed to perfection, but it sounded so fresh and beautiful, and it'd be nice to see such dedication in all live music performances.

The songs continued, Merril expressing everything she sang through her eyes and mouth, wide eyed in some moments and closed in enjoyment in others. As a performer she connected subtly well with the audience as if sharing a fond memory or joke, especially with a coy smile in a few rare occasions when a loop didn't kick in or a strum failed. She explained her strumming issue as due to a nail she had specially designed for her ukelele having come a little loose, bringing a human side to her genius (and an "aww" from the audience). She also appeared extremely pleased that such a large group of people had turned up to see her, and remarked upon the fact she was used to being relatively unknown during tours in new countries. Thanks for making us feel cool, Merril!


Her setlist was made up of most of 'W H O K I L L', the only glaring exception from that album being "Riot Riot". She also introduced "Hatari" from her previous album 'Bird Brains' and also the only other non-'W H O K I L L' track I knew, "Real Live Flesh". All the songs she and the band performaed were replicated with all the precision, energy and passion as on record, enhanced further by being able to watch it all unfold layer by layer. The magnificent sax section went nuts with their crazy solos and peppered contributions toward each song. Amongst it all was Merril's enormous, all-encompassing voice, which did not falter an inch, and threatened to make my eardrums explode with it's sheer volume. 
She came back for just one encore song, being "Party Can (Do You Want to Live)", a most appropriate choice thanks to the back and forth: Merril "Do you want to live!?" Audience "YES!". It left me with such an inspired buzz, which tUnE-yArDs' music really seems to be trying to do; to push the envelope and the people in it to go out and be alive, say something, do something, scream and howl and dance and make sense of this crazy world of sex, drugs and politics. 
tUnE-yArDs Brisbane show is tomorrow night at the Powerhouse, at which time I will be tied up with singing "everybody knows I'm a mahfuckin' monstaah" at the Big Day Out. Tickets are still available which means if you're not joining me at BDO, you have no excuse not to go check her out. You really, really, really should. Unless, you know, you hate lesbians. :/

BANGBANGBANG

Nine and a half bangs/ukes/tribalfacepaintings out of 10. 

Harvest: A Civilized Gathering, Brisbane Botanical Gardens, Saturday 19th of November, 2011

WARNING. This is a long'un.

Last Saturday's Harvest festival- sorry, gathering, was a hotly anticipated one for me. This was not just due to the fact it had been advertised as a gathering, (implying a mature group of people interacting jollily and respectfully (to me)) rather than a typical flustered festival at the botanic gardens, (implying energy drinks, bare skin and sweaty metro males rubbing up against you... well, boganfest). But it was also as if the organisers pressed shuffle on my iTunes and created the lineup based on what came up. And what an eclectic selection: Flaming Lips, Mercury Rev, Portishead, TV On the Radio, Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, The Family Stone, Bright Eyes, The National, and the list went on. There was plenty more, and I didn't even get to see half of those I just mentioned. But here was my experience nonetheless.

After pre-festival drinks, I trundled into the festival just in time for US indie scenesters The Walkmen (missing the Holidays and H.B.E. doh.). The Walkmen are one of those bands that have a distinct, enjoyable style, but despite a few listenings, I have only found a couple of songs that really stand out for me. But they are a pretty attractive band...

Come onnn camera... well, believe me, they are. Anyway they opened with one of said standout tunes from latest album 'Lisbon', "Blue As Your Blood", which frames frontman Hamilton Leithauser's uniquely heartwrenching voice with a simple drum and bass riff. There was much off 'Lisbon', and not a lot else, obviously constrained by time, but each song had something to pay attention to, even if it was just their exceptional musicianship.

Trust me, you'd go there. Anyway, they played what everyone expected, second to last, being their big debut hit, "The Rat". The familiar opening guitar jangles were presented with all the energy this song expresses, and it simply rocked. Hamilton's voice erupted with everything he had, screeching "CAN'T YOU HEAR ME" when it was just too hard not to listen. I saw these guys at the first Laneway back in 08 or whenever that was, and I don't remember it being as powerful as this. Already pre-empting that these guys would not be the biggest highlight, it was a fantastic start to my day.

After the Walkmen men walked, I had some time to wander around the festival grounds before grabbing some food (ahh gozleeeeme.) At this point, the distinct LACK of bogans and complete totality of hipsters was totally apparent. And while stupid fashions were rife, it was damn amazing. Little touches of the festival's decore, such as umbrellas in trees, an animal discoball (may have been a pig?) and park benches made it a little kitschy but also just quite lovely. The best part is where I spent most of my day, at the Windmill stage, was just small enough to have prime access not only to the toilets, but the drink tent, AND the gozlemes. The drink tent sold STRAWBERRY PEAR CIDER (which sold out by 5pm of course), and was nicely stocked with wine, and I don't think I waited more than about a minute in any of the lines. Just so well organised and idiot free. Well. Mostly idiot free (you'll see).

Anyway, I had just grabbed said gozleme when Mercury Rev started their guitars. I should mention at this point that the timing of everything was almost too good (hey, let me get started on this gozleme fellas).

This is the first time I'd had the chance to see Mercury Rev live, and I was so excited. On the scene since the late 80's (I believe), they're like a more subdued Flaming Lips, with Jonathon Donahue's hauntingly sweet vocals and poetic lyrics their calling card. In fact, during the set you could see Wayne Coyne checking them out on the side, obviously a fan and most probably a friend of the band.

Jonnfen

They opened with "Snowflake In a Hot World", off 2008's 'Snowflake Midnight', a beautiful intro that I hadn't heard before. Swirling, magical percussion, synth and lyrics, the smoke-machine assisted eerie atmosphere, the warm sun on my face (alright a bit hot), my delicious gozleme (the last time I use that word, promise), and Jonathon's eager face, made this a perfect moment. Only to be topped by "Holes" off 'Deserters Songs' which came next.

Oh god. The beauty. It was magnificent. They recreated every sound with such delicate precision and the entire band looked like they were being indulged by each sound they created. Jonathon sang as if he had been holding back a precious gift and he was finally unleashing it upon us, and the audience lapped it up. Apart from "Butterfly's Wing" from their latest, there was more from 'Deserter's Songs', including "Endlessly" and a heartbreaking replication of "Opus 40". The emotions flooding the song were beautifully conveyed by Jonathon and crew, and I have to admit, if I'd let myself go, a little tear could have peeped out my eye a wee bit.

Alas, timetable updates meant that one of my favourite bands ever, TV On the Radio, were on halfway through Mercury Rev's set. And I was not missing a second of them if I could help it. So, while most of the bones in my body told me not to, I left to catch them. As I did the Rev had begun a cover of Peter Gabriel's "Solsbury Hill". Daaaaaamn. I later heard that they ended on "Goddess On a Highway" and "The Dark Is Rising", at which point someone did burst into tears. I probably would have been there with her. Damn you timetable clash!

I pretty much ran to get to the Riverstage (the longest distance away from the Windmill stage dammit), going faster when I heard what I thought was "Wolf Like Me", but turned out to be "Halfway Home". Noooo! I got there in time for them to start a sped up, even-more-brass-filled version of "The Wrong Way", the opener from their debut. It was a bit erratic and I lost momentum while trying to keep up with it, and so obscure that my brother didn't even realise they had played it.

I felt better about leaving Mercury Rev when I noticed that Wayne Coyne had also dashed away and was at the right of the stage watching, unless he has doubles or stand ins like Santa Claus. Considering my brother also reported having walked behind him on his way to the venue earlier that day, perhaps this is the case. It wouldn't surprise me.

It got a bit more normal with a few from their latest 'Nine Types of Light', the upbeat "Caffeinated Consciousness", which got the crowd moving in recognition. While the band, particularly frontman Tunde, had amazing energy and prowess, the sound was just a little too off for it to be the amazing experience I expected it to be. The combination of individual elements that make TV On the Radio so good was kinda missing as they ran together in a blur of distortion, and I feel that was just to do with logistics and the stage set up rather than their own doing. I can imagine a solo show would be a different (and fantastic) story.

Then came the two killing tracks, grooveful "Golden Age" and crowd sing along "Will Do", and then a surprising "Young Liars" from the same-titled EP. While I would have liked to hear more favourites, it was nice that they had a broad selection and some older fare. "Staring At the Sun", their first big thing, was great, but would have been more amazing without that said distortion, but the set closing "Wolf Like Me" excelled despite it, probably thanks to the energy of the crowd due to it's classic indie status. While it ended the set in a brilliant way, the sound did not give the experience the same punch that I expected. I'm sure I'll be satisfied at a later date in a non-festival atmosphere somewhere else in Brisbane... (Are you listening TVOTR?)

Death In Vegas was the next on my list to see, and I slowly made my way over. Flashy lights onstage when it's still daylight is not my thang...

There wasn't a lot I recognised... I only have the classic 'Scorpio Rising' and I didn't hear any songs from that, but it was all very chilled, very ambient, and distinctively Death In Vegas-y. They were obviously very good, and the atmospheric combination of synth and breathy vocals did you carry you along with it... but it felt like the wrong kind of time and place for this sort of music. While a bit alternative, the electronica in amongst the indie rock changed up the feel a bit, so I gave up and decided for my friend and I that we would catch the last of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, a band notorious for not doing so well live.

We got there and not long after, they finished "Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood", from their self titled, and walked off, 10 minutes before their scheduled end time. Good one Steph. Another friend praised their show today, but I was skeptical, as the few minutes I caught sounded a bit off kilter. But maybe it was amazing! I'll give them the benefit of the doubt.

Some much needed grass time later, instrumental post-rockers Mogwai came onstage, one of the few bands on the bill not from New York. While they kinda do look like they do come from New York....

...they're actually Glaswegians, and I will remember them fondly for their Splendour show in 2006 (OH MY GOD THAT WAS FIVE YEARS AGO???), so was keen to see their thing again. I could have caught bits of Bright Eyes and the National at this point, but I wasn't feeling the vibe of either band at that moment, and I have tried and failed at becoming a proper National fan. So while the rest of the audience rushed off to catch them, I was happy at Mogwai, which was also a chance to get a good spot for the Flaming Lips.

This set was another case of "don't really recognise anything much" as they have done a couple more albums since my Splendour experience, of which they took a lot of their current set list from. Still, they created some amazing moods, which was further enhanced by their anticipation of wildlife ("We've been told we're going to see some bats soon", said one of the guys). And, after some amazing swells of intensity, during a down-tempo, mellow interlude, sure enough the bats came gracefully flying across the sky behind the audience, one by one. The band looked on in fascination as they played solemnly, and the crowd looked up and swayed, supported by the music. It was a very special, awe-inspiring moment. Another highlight was the addition of Luke Sutherland to sing on the deliciously beat driven "Mexican Grand Prix". It was at this point I spotted my first solo drunk idiot, who clapped his hands loudly yelling "YEAH I LOVE MOGWAI" at the crowd's dismay. Luckily he was out of sight by the time the band finished, and I could inch up to one person behind the front in preparation for Wayne and co. of Flaming Lips fame. Even though he was festival old hat by now.

As he did at their show in Splendour last year, as we waited and watched the band set up, Wayne fiddled around the stage looking restless as the roadies put all the little bits and pieces in action. Every now and then he'd greet the stage, which did not give the same reception as Splendour (where there was probably 50 times as many people), and this seemed to disturb him later as he tossed his hands up in the air at random intervals urging us to cheer him more. At the front, we were doing our best to cheer, and it came pretty naturally, so I guess they weren't as receptive further down. But it was a smaller venue, and Wayne's urging the crowd on won some crowd frustration more than anything, particularly as it took away from more music.

Anyway, after much ado, the Flaming Lips set began, in the same way as it probably has for the past 5 or so years, but then again, why fix what's not broken?

If you're not aware, to start a Flaming Lips show, a dome screen displays a dancing glowing naked lady, who then leans down and shows us her lady bits. Except her lady bits are super mega glowing with rays of light, and as you are sucked into her... chasm...

Oh hai, vag

...out comes the band, one by one, and Wayne pops into his bubble, ready for a crowd surf as the band plays on.

Being so close to the front meant I was half excited, half petrified that I'd be squashed by Wayne's bubble body, but luckily, lots of taller people around me meant I really didn't even cop much of a feel. I copped more at last year's Splendour in which I got to push his buttock over within the bubble as it travelled through the crowd. This time I think I got a knee.

Hooray, I had survived the bubble, and the proper music had commenced. Double joy!

Note: I have about 10 photos of the band with the baldy in front, a security guard who insisted on standing smack bam in the middle of everything. I wanted to punch him in the face but instead he's like that guy in the photobooth in Amelie.

They continued on with "Worm Mountain" from latest full length 'Embryonic', and then to my thrill, played "She Don't Use Jelly", and the front crowd sang along with all their might as the Lips recreated their old time signature tune. It was a rather marvellous moment. Unfortunately, the girl on my right had decided that standing was overrated and from this moment until about halfway through the gig (when I had managed to shake her), decided to lean her body, arms, butt, even her thick brick of a head, on my body, continuously. Even though she had a boyfriend in front of her to lean on and plenty of room behind her. She continued to elbow and headbutt me into oblivion, including stomping on my foot a few times, no matter how much I shoved, elbowed, and pushed her off me, trying to inch away from her. At one point she turned to me and said "HOW GOOD ARE THE FLAMING LIPS" and it took me a few seconds of dumbfoundedness to respond with "Yep, pretty good.". Drugs? Lips induced stupor? Just an idiot? Who the hell knows.

Along with bubbles and LED's, there was a crew of dancing people lined up on each side of the stage dressed as Wizard of Oz characters (I entered the competition to be one of them, but apparently writing to them that my dancing style is akin to David Brent wasn't favoured?), an extreme mass of balloons, a wind machine, and Wayne's hand held streamer machine, set free whenever he felt it necessary. Basically, a party onstage, in every sense of the word. This all culminated in a peak moment during the next song, "The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song", which was an absolute orgasmic joy. Idiot girl was totally forgot as I was just taken away into ecstatic stupor, chanting "WITH ALL YOUR POWER" with the rest of the crowd. Wayne coupled the explosiveness with theatrics by popping confetti filled balloons with his guitar as they came near him, resulting in confetti blasts in time with the musical peaks. It was satisfyingly fun to watch.

Things got weirder with the Neon Indian collaborated "Is David Bowie Dying?" (No, guys! Noooo!) and 'Embryonic''s "See The Leaves". Around this time Wayne brought out the giant hands with lasers on them and played with them on the mirror ball, creating an abso-fucking-lutely magnificent effect. It was like, another world...man.

just to reiterate: the lasers are coming from his HANDS

I was surprised to not hear "Fight Test" but very happy to hear an extremely slowed down acoustic version of "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (part 1)", the title track off their critically loved album. The final moments also consisted of the uplifting "Pompeii Am Götterdämmerung", in which a giant gong lit up with every smash of Wayne's streamer-wrapped baton. And then, as expected by all, but still an amazing delight, came "Do You Realize". I did feel tears in my eyes at that point. Already a gorgeous and heartwarming song, it filled the auditorium with hysterical bliss as the crowd sang along with Wayne and the music built around us, and I honestly could not think of a more amazingly felt moment in my life at the time. I said it on facebook and I'll say it again. If you can condense a Flaming Lips concert into some kind of pill or remedy, there would be nothing but joy and everyone would be happy and bake a pie full of rainbows and smiles together.

LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL!

While the rest of the band looks on quite vaguely, it doesn't matter (and perhaps they know it), as all eyes are on Wayne and the theatrics. Wayne is either the most mentally insane person in the world, or he has discovered the truth to happiness, and either way, I'm very grateful for it.

So, I did say that there cannot be a comedown after a Flaming Lips Pil, but if there was one, it would be in the form of Portishead.

life is tragic.

Exhausted and exhilarated, I sat up on the hill with the others to listen, late to get to the headlining show. The sound at the Riverstage was again, a bit distorted, but the sound was still quite good and the beats compelling. Beth Gibbon's voice sounded slightly weak, probably for the same technical reason, but was beautiful and haunting and without a single hitch, not ageing a day. I was delighted to hear "Sour Times", the hammond organ penetrating and mournful, and the jarring "Machine Gun" from their 3rd album a few years back. "Over" and "Roads" were hauntingly magnificent. I found myself singing along to "Glory Box", trying to imitate the delicate emotion in Beth's voice which was all there as it is on the record. There was no faulting their live show despite the sound-carrying limitations of the stage set up, just pure, gorgeous melancholy. For their first Australian tour in almost 15 years, I could understand why they headlined and were so anticipated... tenderly intricate, their live interpretations were pretty much to perfection.

Wow though. After such a high, it was an odd way to end a festival. Instead of bubbling and giggling off to post-festival pancakes, we trudged back a bit neutral, despite the amazing day we'd had. It's the way music affects you I guess, that's the power and beauty of it; it can change a mood in a heartbeat.

Looking back, I really could NOT fault Harvest. Yeah there was a timetable clash I didn't need, and yeah the biggest idiot at the festival ended up next to me, but it really lived up to it's promise as a civilized gathering, and every band I saw was really, really good. There was not a negative thing about it, really. Really. I have extreme hopes for Harvest to return next year and make itself a staple, but I worry that with added advertising and interest, its return may gradually turn it into the monster that once-small festivals are now becoming (Splendour, Laneway without the lane). Perhaps it can't be avoided... or perhaps together we can make this our special musical gathering, lovers of good sounds. Yes we can!

As peppered within this day were moments I will look back on as the best of 2011 and perhaps the twenty-teens, I give Harvest TEN out of ten confetti filled giant balloons.