St Jerome’s Laneway Festival
Circular Quay, Sydney
March 2, 2008

Truth be told, we slept in this past Sunday morning, and in so doing missed the Basics kicking off this year’s Laneway Festival at the frankly ungodly hour of midday. So we asked one of their number how it went after the fact, to which they replied “jolly good”, and so we spanked ourselves. Clearly, it went very well indeed, as the band met at length with serious management types straight after their set – and quite rightly too, we might say.

And so the day, which had turned meteorogically lovely as befits the first day of Autumn, began in earnest. Laneway in Sydney has the vibe about it of a very large Sunday barbeque. Almost everyone you know and hope to run into is there. The weather as we said, is always lovely. There are large enough areas of grass to sprawl on, while quaffing beers and steak sangers, catching up at the end of the weekend. And so as people streamed in and got acquainted in the sunshine, Little Red made a great soundtrack to this, in their jangle-poppy, sweetly harmonizing, head titling drummer-ing, “we really, REALLY love the Beatles” way.

Cute, but not enough to hold our interest, frankly, and especially not when the Devastations are on at the same time. Casting the moody pall of your Melbourne-via-Berlin, industrial edged Birthday Party headfuck mood in broad daylight is hard, but the Devastations were arresting none the less. It would have been great to have seen them much later in the evening and on the subterranean Basement stage, however the logistics of scheduling a festival are hardly our area of expertise.

As to reviewing a festival; you know that the format is not suited to being able to see everything (unless we could harness a casual loop in space/time), and so is somewhat skewed along personal preference. It can be a little like a Hershey’s sampler – some things you will love, some things, not so much. Some things you will try and they will taste nothing like the way they are described on the box, and some things will be so bad, you put them back in the wrapper and hope someone else will pick them out. However! In the interest of fairness/probability research we resorted to a coin toss.

First up we have Manchester Orchestra vs The Vasco Era which unfortunately went the way of the latter for us, and all we can report here is that grunge’s ghost (STP, Kurt Cobain) is still alive and well and the Vasco Era are here to remind us. Next is Okkeril River vs The Panics, which goes the tourists’ way. We have time to see the first two Panics tracks and it’s pretty clear why they won the J award. There is a huge crowd to enthusiastically greet them and they are a bunch of great players with well crafted, thoughtful tunes. We are not too worried about further opportunities to see them live.

Okkeril River are killing it on the Reiby Place stage when we arrive to a very packed alleyway. The tiny stage is also very packed with all six members of the band giving it hell. The sound on this stage is brilliant throughout the day, traveling perfectly up to the back while not being ear-bleedingly loud down the front. Roots rocky Okkeril River’s Will Sheff has a voice of gorgeous clarity and conviction, much less whiney than it has sometimes been on record, and the band which included keys and horns, has a blast onstage.

Stars beat out Still Flyin in the next coin toss, which bummed us a little when hearing later about how roughly 20 people were packed onto the stage which barely contained Okkeril River, and that crowd surfing was involved. Forgive us, Still Flyin! Stars played a great set to a seriously burgeoning crowd who dug the whole thing, but especially ‘Take Me To The Riot’ which makes us glad that Torquil Campbell takes time out from starring in Law and Order to make something so awesome. When the Canadians closed their set with a brilliant cover of the *Go-Betweens*’ ‘Cattle and Cane’ (our favourite ever Australian single) certain among us just about died – a brilliant gesture from a brilliant band.

Fellow Canadians Broken Social Scene were up next, but our coin toss loyalties were with Bridezilla, which we are aware, ensured that we missed Feist joining BSS (what is this, The We Love Canucks Festival? WE DO, WE DO, IT’S TRUE) onstage – but let us assure you, it was worth it. The line to get into the Basement was huge, and the place was already just about full and in no time no more punters were allowed entry.

Bridezilla are I think best summed up thus: as a buddy said to me “it’s funny seeing them live because you realise that some people are just born cool while the rest of us weren’t.” Yes, it’s confronting when people still in highschool are wiping the floor with everyone else. The band come onstage dressed in an assortment of wonderful hats and dresses as always, and with their long hair flowing look like something conjured by literature. Pointless though it is to try and isolate them from eachother talent wise, when Daisy rips solos on her violin it would be enough to make Warren Ellis cry. Holiday’s voice does not seem to possibly be emanating from one so young, yet it most definitely is. The arrangements dip into complex rhythmic crossovers effortlessly and the spell the band casts is arresting. I would love to hear them someday with a bass player to round out the deeper, dirtier parts of the music, but whatever! I’ll take this wonderful sound just as it’s going currently, thankyou.

The most uttered word throughout the day without doubt is “Feist”. As in “Man. You have to see Feist.” “I’m here really, for Feist.” “Feist, ay? Internet, ay?” “Do you think if I asked Feist to marry me, she’d say yes?” (really, we heard everyone one of those). That kinda thing. As the last of the afternoon light fades into evening, it might as well have been the Feist show all day, judging from how many people have packed the main stage. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Whatever must be playing to approximately three people on the other stage, not that we would know or care – are you kidding? IT’S. FEIST. NOW.

Like most things from Canada, Feist is just superior to many other things (bourbon, maple syrup). There is something about coming from there that imbues Canadian music with a perspective American’s lack. The songwriting tradition in Canada is long and illustrious: Leonard Cohen, Daniel Lanois, Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Robbie Robertson, the Wainwrights, to name only a few, and there is Feist rightly joining their number today.

Well before “1, 2, 3, 4” has sent the crowd into rapturous, drunken joy – and in so doing, perfectly capturing the spirit of the day – she has commanded the rapt, pin drop quiet attention of the punters. Though the not-so-odd “I LOVE YOU!” screamed in quiet moments is taken graciously by our host. On top of a great set of pipes, a lovely presence and infectious sense of humour, Feist is a seriously good guitar player, and her band are equally superb. Taking the sublime and the heartbreaking in equal measure and delivering them to us in such a straightforward manner is some kind of gift and going on after this for anyone would be hard.

The last remaining choice is between the Presets and Gotye, which is clearly one to make depending on if you are planning on kicking on through this school night (column A) or are going to take yourself home at a reasonable hour (column B). Headlining a line-up of this calibre shows how well loved Gotye is, his best male artist ARIA win having cemented that reputation. Had we not been so thoroughly spent by this point and sated on the virtues of Feist, it’s he we would have stayed to see, and many did and many would have been rewarded, but our heart (or perhaps our head on account of the beer)’s a mess and we headed for home hoping you’ll forgive us – 10 hours is long, but glorious. See you next year Laneway, we can hardly wait.