Big Day Out @ FlemmingtonRacecourse, Melbourne(26/01/2009)

Wed 28th Jan, 2009 in Gig Reviews

I have to confess I’m still deciding whether Melbourne has been blessed or cursed with the Australia day window for our Big Day Out. Cursed, because we can always expect an obligatory ‘So I hear it’s Australia Day?’ from every act, warranting a surround-sound shriek of patriotism from a tide of blue tank tops wearing green and gold sombreros (...at what point did the sombrero become an Aussie icon?). Zealous coats of yellow zinc on mobs of incessantly screaming faces usually wear thin on my patience by early afternoon. This year however, the extra serving of ‘Aussie Aussie Aussie’ truly complimented a higher-than-usual quota of home grown music on the 2009 line up which was refreshing to say the least.

As a kind of preface to My Big Day Out Tale, I will quickly say that timetabling is always going to be a bitch for the annual twelve hour frenzy. Complaints about – œbad’ playtimes were whirring around the Flemmington Racecourse throughout the day, despite a general understanding that lining up about seventy five acts would be a brutal task – I hope I never have to do it! There will be clashes. Figure it out.

Prying myself out of a notoriously overcrowded Connex tin can, I chose to open the day with indie-pop team, Sparkadia. The Sydney group had fantastic energy in the face of a tough 11am start, with a promising following of spectators gathered around the Orange Stage. Wearing a kind of all-blacks uniform the four members are very profesh in appearance and seem to sport a glowing optimistic attitude that says, ‘Yeah, that’s right. We harmonise.’ It was a real bummer that there were some sound problems towards the end of the set, with things getting pretty pitchy by their closing song Animals. The good news is that Morning Light and Jealously were real highlights, offering an uplifting start to the day.

Opting to miss Children Collide colliding themselves around the neighbouring Blue Stage, I applied to take out a small mortgage and headed to the bar for an overpriced vodka slurpee. (Don’t judge me. When in Flemmington…)

From this position, pitched right next to the Boiler Room tent, we drunkards got a steady earful of Acid Jacks. With lyrical eloquence like ‘Everybody is on drugs. Everybody is on drugs’ blasting away, I wondered who would be kicking out a sweat in the tent at 11:50am? Great mixes though. Missy Elliot and Dr. Dre were among the samples, bringing more retrospective bass and broken beats to the tent than typically whining trance. Still, considering I would normally be waking up around this time it was a little difficult to enjoy. I got the impression that the few punters shuffling underneath the shade of the Boiler Room were more interested in cooling down than bumping their grind to Missy.

Next up were skip hop pioneers TZU. Having never seen these guys live before, I was monumentally impressed! The sheer fun bouncing around on stage contagious beyond belief – this band is about as playful as a pen of puppies. An instant fan from the moment I watched the guys performing a boy-band dance routine to Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing, I have a feeling I wasn’t the only convert. Particular highlights included a reeling keyboard solo during We Got the Feeling and a flight of arms in the air for Step With The Pressure. To wrap things up, the average-joe anthem Mondays showed off what makes TZU so energising.

I then made the trek to the Converse stage, a good stage choice for locals Little Red. I’ve been hearing a lot of deliberation about this team, weighing up whether the heavy 1950s/60s influence is essentially ripping off an era of American music and repackaging it. But really, who the hell cares? Isn’t recycling and reinventing exactly what rock music is? Making for one of the most enjoyable sets of the day, these guys are very tight performers. Almost each band member took their respective turn at the front mic with equal vocal strength, crooning through Stare in Love and She’s Not The Only One before delving into their twisting Little Annie. The matching ray bans were a nice touch. I would’ve loved to see some more physicality from the boys considering how much fun the audience were having, but as far as criticisms go it’s a minimal one. I only wish I had stuck around instead of bowing down to my curiosity and making an early exit for the Green Stage…

The Ting Tings playing live are, for lack of a better word, quite hollow. If following this description I were still at a loss for a better word, I would say they were quite crap. In fact the name Ting Tings is hugely appropriate for this group as that’s about as much sound as they make, like the tapping of a fingernail on the side of an empty can. I know there are (or perhaps were) a lot of Aussie fans out there – I know this because the lawn of the Green Stage was positively flooded with hopeful, sunburnt faces. Disappointingly the duo opened with a pretty languid performance of We Walk, followed by what should have been an electric Fruit Machine. Instead we were bombarded with shouting, irritating stomping and an occasional thin string of vocals, which would be easier to shake off if this stuff weren’t so damn catchy!

A pretty clear indication of the general Ting TIng interest could be seen when a wanker in a blue mullet climbed on top of the control tent causing every single head to turn in awe, giving him their complete attention for close to ten minutes. Soon after, Great DJ had whatever audience was still around (many had left post-Fruit Machine) chanting their ‘Ah Ah Ah’s and ‘Ee Ee Ee’s, testament to the excellent marketing of The Ting Tings debut album. In reality, however, there’s very little going on here.

To shake me back into the spirit of the day, The Black Kids offered up everything they had despite being one band member short from illness – we were reassured she was well equipped with morphine. With a rousing mix of talk-pop and big hearty vocals, The Black Kids had the Converse Stage wearing down the grass with hits Partie Traumatic, I Wanna Be Your Limousine and Hurricane Jane. Finishing with a lyrical treat, The Black Kids delivered up a wonderfully dramatic I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You. See them when you can.

Lupe Fiasco was always on my – œto see’ list, although I quickly discovered that I had underestimated his absolute force of entertainment! The plan was to move onto Pendulum half way through Fiasco’s set, but I found it impossible to drag myself away from the back-flipping, hand-clapping rollercoaster that was on stage. Shirtless and about as sweaty as most of his audience, it’s a wonder he didn’t slide right off the stage during his antics. In the spirit of no surprises, Fiasco tore the Boiler Room apart with Daydreamin’, sans Jill Scott. Complete with an Australian flag wrapped around his shoulders I’d love to give the man full credit for a brilliant performance, but in truth it was the entire band that kept me hooked. From their high jumps to their floor work – clapping out the beat of Superstar with feet suspended in the air – you really don’t want to miss this party.

Food break. A vast improvement on previous years, we were given plenty of choice to revive ourselves in preparation for the evening shift with only low-to-medium levels of heart clotting grease. Unlike last year’s disaster, the organisers also accounted for the fact that relentless sun exposure leads to heat stroke. Much more shade was hugely appreciated.

Back down to the grassy Green Stage to see Cut Copy, a warm setting sun made it so easy to enjoy this set. Terrific vocal quality and killer percussive sections, these guys are a sure bet for a tight show. While they could have expanded upon recorded releases by taking a few more risks, sunny favourites like Time Stands Still and Autobahn Music Box couldn’t have set a nicer tone to the late afternoon. Cut Copy not only know what they’re doing, but clearly have a blast doing it – this stuff is so terrific to dance to. I will also note that there were some truly seamless segues to be found in their performance, just in case we didn’t already know they had everything under control.

Nearby, I managed to catch the tail end of Mammal from the safety of a remote patch of grass. Yes, there was plenty of moshing. In fact I was amazed several heads didn’t roll loose from the tightly packed crowd. Looking a little like an ex-convict in his loose red shirt and matching pants, lead vocalist Ezekiel Ox has a very solid voice which, although not a huge fan of the politicised-metal music, I really enjoyed. What I found fantastic about this riotous group is their insistence on delivering a message. At times I was convinced any message would do, but you have to admire the guy who stops a song on the Converse Essential stage to state, ‘Advertising is dangerous. Just be careful what you buy.’

In lieu of a drum roll, I will now state that the absolute highlight of my day was without a doubt Hot Chip. Like so many, I braved the mad push from a huge crowd to jam themselves into the Boiler Room. Over the past two years Hot Chip have deservedly attracted a lot of attention with their percussive fusion of dance styles. They’re an odd bunch, pounding at bongos and freewheeling on the cowbells like no others. The rhythmic optimism of One Pure Thought, the classic dance formula of And I Was A Boy From School and the hilariously contagious Bendable Poseable were all delivered with a dangerous level of energy that left me wondering if Hot Chip had oxygen supplies side stage. A particular joy to listen to was their closing cover of Sinead O’Connor’s Nothing Compares 2 U which effortlessly introduced Privacy of Our Love.

Before I move onto the Big N, I’ll quickly make mention of Tiki Taane, who I would have loved to have seen more of. A talented wordsmith, Taane bounced effortlessly off his band and back into the audience (figuratively speaking). In the Hot Produce tent, this meeting point between hip hop and dub was like an oasis from the seedy wolves that seem to come out at sundown every BDO. I’ll definitely be on the lookout for Taane this year.

Neil Young. No one really needs me to run through the hoops on this one, do they? Iconic, rock legend, painfully talented and so on. If you haven’t heard his music before, talk to your folks. Rather than give you a running CV, I’ll say that this man knows how to hush a crowd. Playing at the Blue Stage, a certain familiarity wove through each of us listening to his butter-melting finger work. Young’s guitar skips and stretches over our ears; we almost stop breathing until an uproar of applause is released at the end of each song. Old Man and Heart of Gold induce cultish word-mouthing from the masses, leaving each of us jumping from toe to toe with Rocking the Free World.

A wonderful cover of The Beatles’ A Day In The Life closed the show, with red neon letters – œNeil’ suspended above the man and his harmonica. I think the cool thing about Young is that he surpasses the boundaries of a musical – œera’ without trying to break into a new market, or convince MTV he is worthy of their footage, or release a new ringtone. After a – barely audible – slip from the band towards the end of his set, Young stops the stage and insists, ‘We’ve gotta do better than that! This is the BIG DAY OUT!’ Thanks, buddy. Spanning through so many years of music without acknowledging himself as some kind of rock guru, a humble Young just does his thing. Really, really well.

Finally, facing exhaustion, we run back to the Boiler Room to witness The Prodigy. Or, rather, to watch their live projection on a large screen outside the Boiler Room – great planning BDO. The tent was ludicrously packed, leaving very little room for dancing. Hoards of dilated pupils jumped in unison as they were verbally abused by the angry bunch. From a safer distance, I arrived just in time for Breathe as I felt the gravel beneath my feet pulsing with that iconic bass line. Repetitive though it is, this stuff is dealt out with a serious lashing of attitude that, prattish though it is, I completely love. The Prodigy pretty much hurled themselves around the stage, giving a frenetically furious performance – but really, what else were we expecting?

If you’ve managed to read this far, you get the idea that the day was tightly jammed with what I thought was a really diverse line up. Much more organised than last year (only way to go was up…) the 2009 Big Day Out was a hectic, sweaty day of loud live music – most of which was a great showcase for our beloved Aussie songsters. By 11pm, feeling my limbs collapsing under the lurid white Connex lights, I decided that the title – œBig’ simply doesn’t cut it.

CHECK OUT ALL THE MADNESS OUT THE DAY HERE