Blueprint Festival, Ararat -Day Two (19/09/09)

Tue 22nd Sep, 2009 in Gig Reviews

As the day dawned on a sunny Saturday morning, everyone was in much greater spirits. Crawling out of the finally warm abode of your sleeping bag, you would look up onto the edges of the massive amphitheatre and see rugged up people the size of ants climbing the ridge. From 11.30, you could hear the casual warm up of Goodbye Motel echoing through the crater. Their progressive electronic stylings were perfect to wake up to, similar to the later Death Cab For Cutie albums Narrow Stairs and Something About Airplanes, mixed with a little The Most Serene Republic. Unfortunately, people were choosing cosy tents instead of wet grass, and they played to a collective crowd of four.

Matheson kicked off the massive RRR stage, confirming that this would be more Aussie-rock day than it would be the reggae/hip hop tinge of the day before. Their sound sat somewhere between a less angsty The Drones, and bluegrass. Shane Nicholson was next, stepping up the country quirk a bit, and toning down the rock. He was tiptoeing into dangerous territory with those fans waiting for The Basics, and who weren’t attuned to people in cowboy hats playing slide guitar. However, he kept them there with a Neil Young cover of Dance Dance Dance, and got a few laughs when he declared that he would “like to thank the two most important people on this stage – God and Elvis”.

A quick dash back to the SYN stage between sets proved pointless: Sierra Fin had so few people watching that a few songs in, the lead singer actually jumped off stage to try and convince people to come and watch him. We knew it was time to go back to the RRR stage when Fin commented “this is the heaviest most heavy motherfucking song we have” – and then launched into a ukulele solo.

The Basics. Can they do anything wrong? We all know that anything that Wally De Backer touches turns to proverbial gold, but to say that he stole the show would be lying. Between the banter of guitarist Tim Heath and bassist Kris Schroeder, if you didn’t know that De Backer was the mastermind behind Gotye, you would have weighted the three equally. If you thought that you loved staples such as With This Ship and Like a Brother, then wait til you hear their latest: the rolling harmonic canons of No. 1 Cause Of Death Amongst Youth Today. It produced cold shivers, despite the fact that I was warm for the first time all festival. By De Backer’s screeching final note in Money (Gimmie Gimmie), everyone was reinvigorated and had their faith restored in music.

The afternoon saw the festival antics begin: there was a 50 metre long giant slide made down one length of the amphitheatre, mud wrestling, streaker after streaker trying to out-do one another’s efforts (a personal favourite had to be the one that swam the length of the dam, jumped out, and walked nonchalantly through the crowd, muddy and naked), and even a tent that caught on fire. Sleep Parade began playing as the sun set, and became this reviewer’s most admired new band. The three Melbourne boys were in complete control of their driving prog rock, and as the set continued and the sky darkened, it slowly moved into smooth psychedelic. Leigh Davies played like a ballerina on his tiptoes, gliding over complicated guitar solos instead of shredding them. Like Tame Impala, they made psychedelia seem effortless and not contrived.

Until now, there had not been a female vocalist – and what a way to set the bar with Bertie Blackman. As she launched into Thump, someone on the other side of the amphitheatre, behind the stage, started to set off fireworks. Blackman was literally up in lights. Byrds of Prey brought out the band’s more Metric style electronic side, whereas another cover of Phil Collin’s In The Air Tonight had me flipping through my notes to see if two bands had actually covered the same song within 24 hours. They had, and by now, the audience was drowning out the amps in a sing-along.

The Frowning Clouds were next up on the SYN stage, bringing a bit of retro rock and roll to those who wish that they were born in the sixties. The Frowning Clouds played the best set they have all year, with screams of jumping female fans that you would have swore had mistaken them for The Beatles. And it wouldn’t be hard – with riffs that sound a little too much like The Kinks and The Who, some musos were cringing. But hey, if the music is excellent, and well performed, does it really matter if it’s not 100% home grown?

Even though it was Tim Rogers’ birthday, he didn’t really look like a happy man. His solo work is nowhere near as enthralling as his role as the frontman for You Am I, nor his new band The Gung Hoes. He just sounded like any other bluegrass singer out there, minus any attitude that he has become famous for. Despite being uber excited, this turned out to be one of the most overhyped performances of the festival.

Back on the smaller SYN stage, Tijuana Cartel were dropping trippy rave/reggae beats to anyone who happened to be walking past. There were lots of girls with red hair and asymmetrical haircuts, and lots of boys with gumboots and goofy grins. Even the most innocent looking bystander was writhing away to their electro back beats by the end of the third song.

The buzzing crowd stayed on, expecting to be slayed by hotly-tipped Melbourne blues rockers, The Fearless Vampire Killers. However, the boys had taken too much advantage of the free beer in the green room by the time they took to the stage, resulting in an uncharacteristically sloppy set. Drummer Dylan Lieberman fell of his guitar stool. Twice. The first time was funny and well timed; the second was not so accidental, and embarassing. The band kept it together until the end, and the crowd didn’t really seem to mind (possibly because they were as smashed as the band), but it really was an unfortunate moment to lose their mojo in front of so many people. Hopefully they’ll take this as a lesson to play more like rock stars than act like them.

Red Ink followed with a strong electronic rock set, picking the vibe back up again. Their rock is easy and accessible, with no bullshit, just music. Lead singer John Jakubenko, apologised for the band’s Frankston origins, assuring the audience that “I’m skinny, but I don’t do smack”.

Draft, Funkoars and Polygon Palace rounded out the night, and kept us dancing on until the early morning. Draft made the fatal mistake of attempting to cover a little section of Rage Against the Machine’s Killing In The Name Of . If you’re not Rage, it just simply falls flat. The crew from Adelaide, Funkoars, stepped it up a bit more, taking the piss out of themselves and their status as hip hop artists. “Everyone one of your fuckers better be off your fucking chops! It’s a festival people!” they screamed – and they got a resounding YES back. Looking back up the hill, every square piece of mud was full of stoned or pinging punters, jumping up and down as they squished further into the mud. Those who could remove themselves at the end of the set trudged back up the amphitheatre to sleep, leaving their shoes and dignity behind.

FOR ANOTHER TAKE ON DAY TWO READ GOAT’S REVIEW
DAY THREE REVIEW

CHECK OUT THE PHOTOS FROM THE FESTIVAL HERE