Big Day Out @ ClaremontShowground, Claremont(06/02/11)

Tue 8th Feb, 2011 in Gig Reviews

It’s hard to believe that we’re closing in fast on the twentieth anniversary of The Big Day Out; two decades of rock and roll mayhem – Australia’s own Lollapalooza. The festival being so venerable has led to an interesting mix of punters these days, a combination of the youthful and the veteran. Veterans know that events like these generally boil down to an exercise in triage. There’s no way in hell you’re going to see everything on show. You’re not even going to see everything you really want to see. So the smart punter starts to cut away at his schedule, deciding what acts he can live without seeing. With a lineup as impressive as this year’s offering, hard choices have to be made.

Ruby Boots were a perfect way to ease oneself into the festival groove. They were tucked away on the Hot Produce Stage, far from the nexus of the gig, and the crowd that enjoyed them was thin to say the least. Their countrified sound was perfectly suited to the atmosphere of the Showgrounds, completed by the rich stink of frying meat and the sweet smell of spun sugar wafting from the countless overpriced concession vendors around the place.

Then it was over to the Green Stage to take a look at The Jim Jones Revue. Word had filtered out from the eastern states that this crew was one of the highlights of the tour, an honest-to-God phenomenon, and they didn’t disappoint. The London based band dished out a rollicking dose of old school rock ‘n’ roll – not rockabilly, psychobilly, or whatever the sub-subgenre of the moment might be, but pure, unadulterated, guitar based, piano back, rock ‘n’ roll. Jones thrilled the audience with his consummate showmanship and boundless energy, and it’s a sure bet that if they return on a solo tour, they’ll fill any venue lucky enough to have them.

Andrew W.K. was the next cab off the rank. I’d heard a lot of mixed reviews, and I needed to see whether he was good, bad, or indifferent. Well, I think I’ve got it figured out now: Andrew W.K. is like a crazy homeless man whose last coherent memory is of seeing Wayne’s World during its original run, and he bases his life on the assumption that everything that movie has to say about the world is accurate. With his impressively flexible partner in crime Cherie Lily, W.K. travels the world promoting his simple philosophy of partying all the time, and he seems to be having a hell of a lot of fun doing it. There’s a strong temptation to enjoy the guy’s stuff ironically, but there’s more fun to be had if you just surrender to W.K.’s mindless joie de vivre and just go with the flow.

“Stupid but fun” is also an accusation that could be levelled at insanely popular zef merchants Die Antwoord, who pulled a humungous crowd at the Boiler Room. Filled with defiant energy and directing vitriol at the “haters” who apparently plague them, Ninja, Yo-Landi and DJ Hi-Tek kept the audience entranced with their rap-rock histrionics. And yet, while they’re certainly a crowd-pleasing act, there’s something slightly off about them, the feeling that they’re either mildly retarded, deeply cynical, or some odd combination of the two.

A quick dose of Deftones served as a suitable palate cleanser, and they had a sizeable chunk of the estimated 37 000 punters at the festival crowding around the Orange Stage to get their alterna-metal on. Inter-song banter was kept to a minimum as the California killers tore through their set, but they were ill-served by a timeslot that saw them take the stage while the sun was still high in the sky.

And then there’s Iggy. Well, technically it was The Stooges, but we all know that we were really just there for Iggy Pop, and the reason is simple: while he may have a biochemistry comprised entirely of adrenalin and sweat and a raw charisma that could drive roofing nails into a concrete block from thirty feet away, at 63, Iggy isn’t getting any younger, and it’s best to seize the opportunity to see a man who truly qualifies as a living legend while we still can. If anything, Iggy and The Stooges exceeded the hype, blasting through classics like Raw Power and Search and Destroy with a grace and power that had to be seen to be believed. As is customary, Iggy herded a dozen or so lucky punters onstage to dance with him, a gambit that this time almost backfired when one overly enthusiastic young man in a striped shirt had to be forcibly escorted away by a burly roadie after trying to be to intimate with the inestimable Mr Pop, but it was a minor hiccup in what was an absolutely killer set.

Then it was back to the Green Stage, lingering just long enough to see Rammstein kick off their set with the unveiling of a German flag the size of a football field, and a wall of sound that could rattle the fillings right out of your teeth. Rammstein always put on a hell of a performance, but there was a nostalgia-driven urge to check out Scottish psychedelic rockers Primal Scream. The sun had finally vanished from the sky, leaving us draped in a cool, breezy darkness, and it was the perfect setting for a dose of trippy tunes in the form of their seminal album, Screamadelica, being played in its entirety. It was a mellow, friendly groove, the perfect respite between Iggy’s savage onslaught and whatever Grinderman was going to bring to the party.

The phrase you’re going to hear whenever anyone talks about Grinderman’s performance that night is “The Birthday Party”. It’s inescapable. Nick Cave’s decision to eschew his carefully orchestrated work with The Bad Seeds and throw himself into what is, for all intents and purposes, a highly skilled garage band, has worked its magic; the man is reinvigorated, and he delivered one of his most electrifying performances in years. Perhaps he’s spent too long on the road with Iggy – Cave leaped about the stage with maniacal energy, open shirt displaying his naked torso, and at several points he threw himself into the crowd to sing, hector and berate his fans with a feverish intensity. Multi-instrumental madman Warren Ellis, looking like some kind of demented backwoods shaman, kept the musical fires stoked high while Nick did his thing. There was a palpable air of danger to the proceedings, the feeling that anything could happen at any moment. For that alone, it was the performance of the day, and we can only hope that, whatever Cave’s done to get to this strange and dangerous place, he keeps doing it – the results are worth the risk.

And that was it for another year. It would have been good to see more Rammstein, and maybe some of MIA and Tool’s sets, but triage was the order of the day. You make your choices and you take your chances at the musical buffet that is the Big Day Out. One thing’s for sure – it’s showing no signs of slowing down. Hang the twentieth anniversary tour, start thinking about who you want to see at the thirtieth.