The Melbourne music scene right now is one of the most cooperative, resourceful and creative scenes in Australia and most likely the world. It is the continuation of a trend that started way back when, has had many peaks and troughs, but has never died. Put simply, Melbourne is a premier music city, producing wave upon wave of successful (and not so successful!) innovative and talented acts in any number of genres, and we cannot be ignored. The fourth annual Wash Winter’s Willies Away With Whiskey festival at the Tote on Sunday is clear and inspiring proof of that.

Billed as a ‘day long celebration of Australian music inspired and impaired by the bottle’, WWWAWW brought a range of lovers of local music in from the cold and rain to share in a genuine sense of community and love of the music. And the bottle. With rowdy bands hitting the stage in the main room while quieter acts provided respite in the public bar, organiser and main debaucher Jimmy Stewart was on a winner. Featuring acts such as Kristy Lewis and the Wretched, Basic Shape, the Radio Lights, Graveyard Train, Redfish Bluegrass, Van and Cal Walker, Silver City Highway, Austin Floyd, and Clinkerfield, this certainly promised to be a line up that would indeed deliver on what it advertised. With hot homemade soup and beer garden BBQ all attempts had been made to rid punters of the winter blues.

This punter had been partaking a little too much from the bottle on previous nights and arrived to find Basic Shape onstage, warming the crowd up for an evening of blues, rock, country, folk and partial nudity. As the gloom outside turned to dusk into night, a toasty warm public bar was serenaded by the sounds of Redfish Bluegrass. Plying their trade around Melbourne for sometime now, there are simply no better exponents of this traditional music to be had in this country. One microphone, six musicians, beautiful harmonies and honest lyrics about such things as love, working the railway and prayer, Redfish Bluegrass get it right every damn time. Fighting the inevitable chatter from the patrons, the boys soon had the room eating out of their hands, and rightly so.

Back in the band room, Graveyard Train had taken over with a raucous set of fun, loud and frankly boozy songs looking to get the crowd up and slapping their knees in glee. Certainly the band themselves were having a great time, with big ol’ smiles from ear to ear and sing songs a drunken ship of pirates would be proud of. It wasn’t quite to my taste, so I headed into the cold beer garden to get the belly full of tasty meats and hearty soup. Just the thing before Van and Cal Walker started what turned into a marathon set in the public bar. Drawing the most attentive crowd yet, the boys played beautiful folk tinged country songs that were a perfect accompaniment to a quite beer as the weekend came to an end. With guest violin and harmonica from the Redfish lads, it was near impossible to tear away from. But the powerful loud sounds of Silver City Highway beckoned from within the depths of the band room, and I was drawn.

I had seen Silver City Highway not too long ago supporting Wellyn at their album launch, and was certainly intrigued. With 7 musicians onstage, I had described them at that time as a ‘heady wave of swirling guitars, harmonicas, keys and vocals. Silver City Highway are akin to Nick Cave singing on a pirate ship, the Kill Devil Hills and pleasingly the musicians own – œregular’ bands. At times a wash of noise, at times subtle and restrained, but always a class act.’ This time seemed to me to be even better. The hangover was subsiding, the mood was elevating, and one could only wonder how the next band would follow on. Austin Floyd knew exactly how to do that though, treating us all to a set of good old fashioned drunken blues, rocking out in every song. Meantime the Walker boys continued their set in the cosy public bar. Jimmy had got this right from the start, and it only remained to be seen if his band Clinkerfield would pull it all together.

As soon as Clinkerfield took the stage that question was put to bed. Front man Jimmy Stewart seemed like he had been waiting all day for this moment. During the day he had been spotted all over the place, serving food, running back and forth between every corner of the venue helping and organizing. But now it was time to let loose. As the boys cranked up their respective instruments he saw fit to strip down to his blue Bonds singlet as he and the band exploded with a wall of noise that rarely let up for the whole set. Like some demon cross between Tom Waits and Frankenfurter from The Rocky Horror Picture show, Clinkerfield brought the rock, the blues, the sleaze and the, it has to be said, the brilliance. It was a fantastic celebration of all things good about the Melbourne scene. The band were on fire, the punters revved up, and the sense of community abundant. It was a great show, and it made sense that when someone from the crowd yelled out that Jimmy should take his pants off, it was only a matter of moments before he did, swaggering around the stage in his Y fronts as Clinkerfield ended the set with a bang. It was a truly great way to end the day.

The crowd filtered outside for cigarettes and to the bar for one last beer as the Radio Lights hit the stage. With a big rock sound, a big rock lady with a big rock voice, they did try their best, but the damage had been done. The Wash Winter’s Willies Away With Whiskey festival had been a awesome display of what Melbourne has to offer, brought together by one of its enigmatic artists. As I walked the streets of Collingwood heading home the sounds of the Radio Lights followed me into the dark cold night, but I was not cold. Whether it was the beers, the BBQ, the soup, the music, the crowd, or most likely all those things combined, it was a great way to end another winter weekend in Melbourne.