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In contrast to 2008’s false start of a Valley Fiesta that saw it’s Friday night program postponed for hours due to mismanaged stage setup, this year’s festival ran so smoothly that only a handful of punters seemed to notice. The crowd may have been miniscule at times, but the bands, atmosphere and weather were all bang on for the start of Valley Fiesta 2009.

Whilst skeptics may have once written them off as Beirut II, it’s clear that locals Lion Island have come a long way over the past year. Dressed in black, they’ve smartened up for the occasion and a handful of new songs show just how much their sound has progressed. Lion Island are a whole lot of people making a whole lot of beautiful noise, and a whole lot of fiesta-goers are here to soak up the cheerful atmosphere.

The Frowning Clouds are from Geelong yet they look like they’ve stepped straight from a time machine arriving from England, 1970. It’s an enjoyable trip down memory lane, their tight checker pants and Beatles haircuts almost as hip as the rusty riffs and harmonica solos featured throughout their garage pop songs. While they fail the test for innovation, the young band performs such easy, danceable tunes with sweet enthusiasm that their maiden performance north passes with flying colours.

Fairy lights! Gold sequins! It’s Aleks & The Ramps! These Melbournites really make this feel like a fiesta. They may have traded their banjo for a drum machine, but their heavy-metal-hillbilly-tribal-pop sound draws the biggest crowd yet. We’re treated to a blistering mid-set dance routine and a new song “so new it was beamed in from the future by… Steve… Irwin!”

Wearing their own merch, Japan’s Limited Express (Has Gone?) are a trio of shiny, happy Japanese kids gone punk. Yukari is a frontwoman with a side pony-tail and sass to spare. Her vocals roar along with those of guitarist Jinichiro Iida for the better part of their twenty minute set. Their bass-driven songs are short and snappy – the soundtrack to the cutest punk show you’ll ever see.

A last minute stage change sees legend Kev Carmody first to grace the SAE Brisbane Street Stage over the weekend. His natural style is a lovely and gentle intro to the day’s festivities and his yarn-spinning about the history and perspective of the songs are as soothing as the tunes themselves. Finishing with a touching rendition of From Little Things, Big Things Grow, Uncle Kev is, as always, a treasure to watch.

The Beatlez , complete with matching outfits, hair, and British accents draw a cheery, dancing crowd as they played through the classics, including Twist And Shout and Magical Mystery Tour.

Ball Park Music are apparently “not sun people” and defy their nocturnal habitat to bust out their particular brand of swank pop. Older and new tracks abound, highlight being I Don’t Know What’s Right For You Young Bean. With excellent stage presence and audience involvement (and a lot of dancing), it’s a wonder these young folks aren’t better known.

Mr Maps are the perfect hangover cure, playing an uplifting set that emanates joy and melts all of last night’s woes. Fresh from a recent break and with a change of drummer, they appear to have a new lease on life which is reflected in their energetic performance. The band seem to have been busy despite the hiatus, showing off some beautiful new songs that give a glimpse of exciting things to come. Featuring Skinny Jean’s Shem Allen as guest performer on synths and guitar, they certainly win over more than a few idle Fiesta-goers.

Brisbane collective Hungry Kids of Hungary take to the SAE Brisbane Street stage mid afternoon. During their set Ball Park Music join them onstage to help out with crowd favourite Scattered Diamonds. Their catchy melodies and joyful stage presence leaves the crowd wanting more.

Never a Fiesta passes without at least one of Brisbane’s past luminaries gracing the stage – this time it was Screamfeeder frontman Tim Steward’s turn with his new outfit We All Want To. Screaming of mid-90s classic guitar pop, the set seems a little off as they try to pack way too many percussive elements (including a live tap dancer) into an already over-crowded mix. EP tracks Back To The Car and I’ve Been Listening To You For Too Long are, however, almost irresistible with their delicious hooky charms.

Madeline Paige steps onstage with her impeccable vintage style and songstress friend Chloe Turner. With impressively clear vocals and a heart-stopping presence, Madeline and company provide soft, touching moments in the hustle and bustle of crowds.

The Wilson Pickers – œ mix of folk, bluegrass, humour and upbeat songs hit the SAE Brisbane Stage and immediately have a captive audience. Little Old Man , Can’t Steal My Love and a cover of Dolly Parton’s hit Jolene made for set highlights among a mixture of upbeat and mellower tracks.

Triple J Unearthed winners DZ – œs punchy, violent energy borders on metal on occasion. The two boys leaped about the stage, thrash the drum kit and sake the crowd with their Rage Against The Machine-esque vocals. They draw a solid crowd and prove their status as a headliner beyond a doubt.

Jo Nilson ’s mildly exasperated “Wake up Fortitude Valley!” is the Butcher Birds ’ sole protest against a somnolent late-afternoon crowd too full of sun (and, presumably, booze) to get into the tunes. Instead, the songs do the talking as the band powers through a set replete with cuts from new long-player Set My Bones. The confidence is well placed: The Gate, Millions and Blood Message pitch a thumping, crunching bottom-end against fuzzing guitars and the sleek vocals of Stacey Coleman in the most toothsome fashion. Hook-laden fuzz then becomes visceral, punk anger when Donovan Miller briefly steals vocals duties for Amp. Even if the punters are a little introverted today, the broad smiles of the band as they conclude with a screeching, dissonant rendition of The Amps’ Tipp City show at least four people in the Valley are keen to cut loose.

Sometimes the most powerful performances can be just a dude on stage with a sweet voice and an acoustic guitar. And while that is the recipe for singer Mike Rosenberg from UK band Passenger , things just don’t go his way when the RGs beer garden covers band cranks their amps to “11, man!”. Still, he manages to convey some heart-on-the-sleeve power vocals on Brick Walls and Wicked Man’s Rest – enticing, but failing to captivate due to issues far from his control.

Disco Nap – œs indie- rock- electro set includes 100 years, Home Karaoke, One Way Street and Birthday Song , which they dedicate to their guitarist Darek, who is celebrating his birthday.Their energetic set, lit by candy coloured lights and with great live vocals and catchy tunes was so worth standing in the rain for.
– œLittle Scout’ belt out their beautiful soulful melodies to an avid crowd. Their charming lyrics, upbeat sounds and collection of different instruments make for a great set. Melissa Tickle has the voice of an angel, never demonstrated more clearly than on Paper Aeroplanes.

Are Cuthbert & The Nightwalkers the happiest band around? They sure look like it, and the FL team spends the first couple of minutes of the set deliberating whether they’d do better for themselves as a children’s band. We decide we’re happy they’re not – their choral combinations and cheeky keys riffs proving easy listening indeed. With frontman Richie Cuthbert – œs playful banter, this mainly adult crowd are happy to groove along in giddy delight throughout their solid set.

After a typically brutal rendition of Hail, Pete Collins from Vegas Kings announces there won’t be any Train tonight—his right hand has gone numb. Benjamin Dougherty in typically dry fashion observes: “I think you’re just going to have to man up a bit there, Collins.” They play it anyway. Still, it’s a moment near the end of their set where Collins moves across stage to point out Dougherty’s machine-precision fretwork with a stubby finger that’s defining—if the Vegas Kings played their grimy speed blues any faster, their guitars would burst into flame.

Blessed darkness. A comforting, gossamer veil anomymises our mutual shame as Ben and Geoff Corbett preside over sickening rites of swamp-rock. Sixfthick spew misanthropic hate – thickly congealed inside sleazy riffs groaning with self-destructive potential—expiating life’s sins in convulsive waves of self-abuse that we may be spared. Weak humans, we succumb; we embrace the sweating, pummelling debauchery. The Floor Is The Limit. Living the Dogshit Blues, we howl bereft. The Shitbird Has Landed, and it is us. Venally, we pursue White Light, Wet Heat. Its indisputable transience is irrelevant. Then, the ultimate abasement, all-too-willing Ashtray for refuse as the masters mark, abuse and, finally, discard us.

In a part of the city where people with obvious social differences come to play, West Australian wonderful weirdos, The Panda Band take the stage and accelerate into their rollicking set. Now residing in the United States, the four-piece alt-indie rockers offer a veritable mixed bag. Recent Triple J staple Musical Chairs rains equal parts cool, quirk and chorus but is worryingly early at third track in. The performance continues to get heads in the rearward-sloping Brunswick St Mall bobbing. Each new morsel is as delicious as the last and there’s clearly no need to worry. Where The River Rises is a later highlight with tighter-than-army-boot tempo changes and a stomping, infectious chorus that’s bouncing around our skulls as they casually depart.

It’s been a while since The Mess Hall graced Brisbane with their raw, drum-driven rock. The pair are very tight tonight, with Jed Kurzel ’s voice in very fine form and Cec Condon absolutely killing it on drums. They treat us to an assortment of songs from their two albums, including crowd favourites Pills, cowbell-tastic Keep Walking and the dancey numbers Disco 1 and Disco 2. They put on an explosive performance, dazzling the crowd with their intensity and leaving us completely satisfied.

Bertie Blackman occupies a whole lot more of the stage than physics and your eyes would have you believe. The pint-sized princess of powerful prose may appear a good portion punk, but her vocals rest casually in the realm of indie-rock and alternate blues. – œWarming’ us into the set, Blackman initiates proceedings with loose strumming on a slightly fuzzed-out electric guitar. Blackman’s sound has morphed over the last eighteen months and Thump sees her deeply dipping her brush into a bucket of stomping electro with awesome results. The poppy and radio-destined Heart coaxes the crowd to clap along as Blackman talks of promises made to – œwatch her mouth’, climbs her fold-back, and gets showered with Mount Franklin. Flicking her dripping hair with nonchalant seductiveness, the synths strobe into life for the all-too-soon showstopper Birds Of Prey.

Grassroots Street Orchestra are an eccentric mix of megaphones, harmonicas, violas, guitars and hip hop vocals. Whether they’re dishing the dirt on the police in No Justice, No Peace or giving it to John Howard in the catchy Drop It this street rchestra knows how to look – and sound – good.

Brisbane scene stalwart Andrew Morris brings a touch of class to proceedings as he tears through an interesting reflection of his career since disbanding his 90s guitar-pop hopefuls Palladium. Spending the first half of the set sans-guitar, Morris looked awkward prancing the stage and crooning to the MOR-vibe of his backing band. In the second half, Morris tips his hat to ex-band leader Bernard Fanning. The nostalgic and almost 50s revivalist feel of tracks from new album Union Bars, supplemented by a horn section set a great atmosphere, particularly for the pair of aging hippies dancing up a storm in the middle of the road.

Braaaaaains! Where’s a cricket bat when you need one? Texas Tea take charge of the SAE Stage after the Brisbane Zombie Walk (complete with Where’s Wally? zombie, Zombie Liberation Front signage and dogs carrying fake heads) invades the Valley. Following the merry Thriller and Monster Mash dance-a-thons, the familiar resonating kick drum announces the Brisbane alt-country duo’s arrival and we are transported to the land of The Junkship Recordings. Kate Jacobson’s soaring vocals are the perfect foil for Ben Dougherty’s sparse guitar work and gruff, earthy tone, the Macy & Me and Whiskey And Wine recitals being particularly affecting.

Looking resplendent in his white outfit (replete with bowtie), C.W. Stoneking’s ragtime, cotton plantation blues template makes for excellent early evening head-nodding. Songs from Jungle Blues prevail during the record-attendance, sundown slot. Switching between his custom-made “Christian missionary banjo” and a dobro, the Victorian proves to be an excellent storyteller (the African shipwreck story being a particularly good yarn) in addition to his unquestionable singing talent. His backing band’s New Orleans feel is delectable and we shimmy in earnest to the tuba-powered closer Love Me Or Die.

Minutes later, local power trio The Smokestack Orchestra get the molasses-thick groove going with a heady instrumental intro, with drummer Skritch (of Mary Trembles fame) hitting the skins hard. Brandishing a gorgeous wine red Les Paul (ran through a bass amp, Kyuss-style), frontman Scarecrow Wallace leads the charge through familiar Salute Heavy Industry stompers ( Vincent Price and Dustbowl being particularly crunchy) and finds time to introduce a killer funky riff-driven new song. Texas Tea’s Kate Jacobson takes to the mic on Tractor and Intermission: The Bible – to a positively salivating effect.

Despite Jack Ladder sharing his real name with the You Am I legend Tim Rogers , the Sydney singer-songwriter doesn’t hold the same appeal or commanding stage presence, but rolls out a gimmick to match: the-white dress-sporting lead guitarist. The Nick Cave influence is clear in a clutch of (relatively) noisy, The Birthday Party-echoing numbers and brooding vocal mannerisms, however the lanky crooner fails to excite.

Bidding Valley Fiesta 2009 a fond farewell are Brisbane’s own all-star rock n soul revue The Horrortones. Singer Pete Collins (of Vegas Kings) attacks the mic with unrivaled zest while the ripsnortin’, horns-blarin’ combo rip through supercharged originals like Night Of The Hunter and King Khan, Bob Seger and Sam & Dave covers with a ferocity that would make The Bell-Rays blush. Pete’s fellow Vegas King Benjamin Paul Dougherty is a revelation on the bass guitar. The scorching performance is at odds with the now-prevailing chilled Sunday night vibe, yet makes for a welcome energy jolt.

For a practically one-woman show, 2009 festival director Ciel Fuller can spend the next week in a non-reception-area treehouse, happy to have curated one of the hottest Australian festival lineups – free or ticketed – of recent times. The only thing missing from this years’ stellar event was the crowds and associated enthusiasm of Fiestas past, circa 2003. Here’s looking to 2010!

Reviewed by BrisJamin, sjc_, yaki, AlishaJade, tian265, vinegarandbrownpaper, demosthenes, lex_young199, denistheman81, tblea6, misscrystle.

Photographic gallery by kelh, chuck_stuff, Bliss and Xen, martini007, jpete12, Selby-Caitlyn.

Compiled by misscrystle.