Each year two million Muslims make their way to Mecca, whilst just close to three million Catholics pilgrimage to the holy city of Rome. And once a year in the small town of Meredith, two hours North West of Melbourne, ten thousand music lovers converge on their spiritual home.
It was clear early on Friday afternoon that Meredith Music Festival 2006 was shaping up to be one the finest yet. Worshippers had come in convoys from near and far to celebrate the festival’s sweet 16th and by 1pm hundreds of cars sat bumper to bumper in sweltering heat and a haze of smoke (of which only a small percentage could be attributed to the nearby bushfires)
I myself a devoted disciple, lay patiently on a car bonnet as my respective convoy crawled through the Golden Gates of the old Nolan farm, into the world of Meredith, where the only rules that applied for the weekend were printed clearly on our tickets “No Glass, No Beanbags and No Dickheads”!
After obtaining mild sunstroke trying to coordinate the assembling of ten tents, two tarps and eight makeshift eskies in 37 degree heat, I hit the Natural Amphitheatre and planted myself front and centre to check out the first few bands that tickled my fancy.
Number one on this list was Wolf and Cub. Up until this point, I must admit, I had been quite the skeptic when it came to the buzz surrounding these boys. But I was clearly converted as they put on a blistering set that would have been far more suited to (and well received by) the evening Meredith crowd. Much to my amazement their twin drumming didn’t produce an arrogant and imposing sound but instead provided an immense strength to a set that was reminiscent of an early Zepplin garage jam.
Following a few beers and some of the finest Hari Krishna food available from a caravan, I set myself up for the first night of rock. The New Pornographers glowed and jangled as the sun set on the amphitheatre. Chinese lanterns lit the hill and these kids from Canada played the crowd perfectly – all tambourines and Indie pop guitar. Despite a suspiciously glazy eyed older gentleman ask me repeatedly throughout the entire set whether I was going to ”...put out tonight” it was awesomely enjoyable.
Next up, the little man of rock himself, Angry Anderson. The bald-headed, Overall wearing father of balls out Aussie rock, put on a surprisingly tight and enjoyable set with his Rose Tattoos. Pulling out all the classics, he had kids, who up until now thought the Tatts to be a lesbian pop combo, stamping their feet and punching the air. And to finish off my night nice and early, I danced on an Eskie to the oh-so-hot -right-now sounds of The Presets. However, I left the loved-up crowd to dance on into the night, piking early after my first day of Meredith action.
I awoke sweaty and smelling like Bourbon, to the nonsensical voices of a campsite of sleep deprived boys. As the heat crept up to 40, the girls in our convoy set up shop under a tree at the top the amphitheatre. We lay, beer in hand, pouring gallons of water over our heads, swatting the occasional bush wasp and boyfriend, listening to the almost ethereal sounds of Snowman. This ambient pop combo from WA were the perfect start to Meredith Saturday and were followed by the awesome stylings of Macromantics, who performed a miracle of getting a great majority of the crowd to move as the day edged over 40 degrees. The Drones were beautiful as per usual with ‘watch this space’ written all over their adorable tunes.
As evening grew close I marched back to the campsite to convene and consume. The convoy threw buckets of water on each other, drank ourselves merrily out of sunstroke and made our way over to position ourselves in the amphitheatre for the night.
Augie March were first up as the sun set. Some of the most beautiful songwriting in Oz came from their latest album and it transposed perfectly into the Meredith Atmosphere. Old hands at this festival, they put on a highly emotional set and had the whole crowd hugging (yes even the boys) during One Crowded Hour. They were followed by the aptly titled Cornelius Sensuous Showcase. This performance has to be seen to be believed, as words can’t do it justice. An audio and visual production that blew the crowd away, Cornelius synchronized amazing visuals with meandering music, in way I have not before witnessed.
However, finally the moment we had all been waiting for – The Crane took the stage. I don’t know whether it was the Meredith atmosphere, the beer, or a combination of the both, however, this was by far the best performance I have ever witnesses by Dallas Crane. Their production, always immense, was huge! They opened with Curiosity and served the crowd with a bunch of best off the Factory Girls album and all the favourites from them earlies. Dave Larkin proved he is by far the best fromtman in Oz at the moment (big call I know…but the things that voice does to me…)! They set the evening on fire and left me ready to enjoy a night of debauchery observed from the Pink Flamingo tent, which I can only thank God exists by the rule “what happens in the Pink Flamingo on Saturday night, Stays in the Pink Flamingo ”.
The weekend from there on in was a blur of all things Meredith. I awoke (but did I sleep?) covered in dust and god knows what else. Stumbled around, vaguely pulling down tents and drove away to the blissful sounds of Tim and Tex.
As the convoys crawled away for yet another year, making the return journey down the Geelong freeway and back to reality, we all gave a little nod to the God of rock, who ensures year in and year out that, in the words of Dave Larkin, ”...Meredith Music Festival is the greatest festival in Australia, if not the world.”
