It was a line-up for the ladies who love ladies this weekend, as well as a weekend of reclaiming. The pride rainbow was reclaimed and was worn by many simply because they liked the colours, riding bulls reclaimed from the cowboys, the tutu was reclaimed from ballerinas and worn by anyone who looked good in a skirt, in fact dressing in drag seems to have been reclaimed as well, unless these four do it very convincingly. Eating at a festival was reclaimed thanks to the local sport club who were there all weekend selling fresh fair priced foods. Skipping was reclaimed from children, boys took back all pink with short shorts ensembles, even the trees reclaimed toilet paper.
One guy did his best to claim flying from the birds, but we don’t think he succeeded. The John Steel Singers took capes back from Sparta

Wine came in little squeezy packs that looked just like an IV bag and being the cheapest drinks on offer coupled with the shenanigans in base camp, it is possible they were consumed that way.

Police were everywhere, but mostly unobtrusive, with some being spotted bumming smokes off punters and resolutely trying to resist the charms of couples of semi-nude girls who seemed to like the idea of a man in uniform. Regardless of their willingness to relax and let the people have a good time, groups of seven or more officers striding purposefully towards you was slightly oppressive, even if you had done nothing they could be interested in you for. The security guards seemed more militant in catching the odd punter passing the dutchie through the crowd, with several punters seen being forcibly led towards the entry gates throughout the weekend. For all the horrors and evils of drugs and alcohol, there was very little agro witnessed, just folks enjoying themselves.

“Peanut butter jelly with a baseball bat” could be heard sporadically across the weekend thanks to the other stage VJ who kept us entertained with internet memes and classic movie quotes during the sound checks. The film scene selections were hit and miss, and the live Wizard of Oz splicing was more annoying than anything else, but the pre-prepared pieces were gold and exactly what was required to keep people entertained while they staked out a place early for the next band.

Leaving aside the big main acts covered by our other reviewers, Rodrigo y Gabriela were the standout act of the weekend, what amazing guitar work! Future of the Left were another highlight and were responsible for at least one hoarse voice on Tuesday.

Chairlift were beautiful and mesmerising, as were Washington. Tame Impala gave us good reason to look forward to their forthcoming album, while Wolfmother only barely hung on to the audience by playing an old song either side of a new song. The set ended 15 minutes early, just enough time for them to return to the stage to do Mind’s Eye as an encore -except that as soon as they left the stage, the audience dispersed and there was no one left cheering for an encore. Perhaps this had something to do with The Editors, who played before them, (and looked a bit worse for beer) because Tom Smith bid the crowd farewell saying – œenjoy Wolf-whoever-they-are.’

Fear of Comedy suffered from an unfortunate timetable clash with Moby which meant that they only had a small audience to be awed by their collective anger and, shall we say, challenged by snippets of audio from such as Charles Manson introducing their songs. Frontman Laith Tyranny is an angry young man who would probably do very well in theatre. It looked as though he was ready to stab when his foldback malfunctioned and when the sound guy came running up and stuck his ear against it to see what it was doing it seemed likely that he was going to receive a kick to the head for his trouble. For all the foldback trouble, Tyranny’s voice was pretty much pitch perfect, and the musicianship was tight and complex as always.

Thomas Ford frightened the people who had retreated to the 24 hour cinema for a bit of a lie down with his confronting act that mostly involved running around, jumping on people, blessing them with his sweat, demanding cuddles and costume changes. Oh, and lots of sexy sexy bass. He lost about ten people when he managed to get everyone to stand up and dance probably because they were too wrecked to stand, and he gained a couple of dancers on stage who worked quite well for the song in which they were required, but just wouldn’t go away after that. The audience seemed to enjoy it when Ford called them cunts a lot. Except for that one girl who left after telling him – œyou’re a weirdo’ to which he replied: – œyou’re not as hot as you think you are sweetheart.’ And for that he got an encore demand. nice work.

The lounge with its mishmash of bring-out-your-dead-reclaimed couches was always pretty well populated providing shade, comfort and a chance to perform on stage for some of Perth’s newer acts. Much of the daytime entertainment was open mic. and unfortunately for the bands scheduled to play, there was no timetable to consult so you never really knew who was playing or what was coming up next.

The lack of little booklets with all the timetables and info about the artists was probably the only disappointing part of the whole experience, because while it was an environmentally responsible choice not to print 20 000 books, it made it very difficult to keep track of who was playing the small stages at any given time. Next year we’ll remember to print them before we leave Perth.

Minute 36 played some creepy laid back tunes to an afternoon full of people chilling in the lounge, followed by The Joe Kings whose tunes were infectious enough to have people up and dancing again and ready for the rest of the festival. Miche Suite also entertained the lounge dwellers with some sweet tunes and a most funky looking electric double bass.

This was without a doubt the most well coordinated Southbound yet; the toilets remained clean throughout the weekend, there was plenty of space and shade and a huge variety of acts to entertain almost everyone. Basecamp was open most of the time and licensed so you could walk around with a drink and sample some of the upcoming talent in the lounge or the vodka bar or the groove tent, or play a giant game of Jenga. It would have been possible to spend the entire weekend in basecamp and be well entertained without even venturing into the festival proper.

What an excellent weekend, hats off to Sunset Events, we can’t wait for Southbound 2011.