It seems that no festival these days can start without these customary words of caution: "Drug dogs ahead". Well, so read the flashing roadwork sign that greeted every one of the 17,500 festival-goers on the final approach to this year's Splendour in the Grass.
If you kept your eyes to the ground on the walk in (as many did), trying to avoid the larger patches of mud and the looming police presence, following the parade of dirt-flecked Doc Martens, RM Williams' and countless pairs of battered All Stars, it was surely a welcome sight to look up once you were through the gates. Between the food tents, curiosity stalls and an installation put together by artists from Sydney's World's End Studio, hundreds swarmed along the narrow path that links the welcome area with the grounds at large. I looked left and saw one of Santa's elves blowing a tune from a mellotron; I turned right and ran into an aging, bearded hippie dressed in a surgeon's gown, who insisted that we "start something together". It was the carnival; and while some other festivals on the Australian calendar may pip Splendour for a general atmosphere of the absurd, none can compete with it on the scale to quality ratio.
This thought was not the first to enter my head as I entered the GW McLennan Tent to see Dappled Cities. Of course, any band operating on their kind of level would likely be a distraction from the actual business of reviewing. Their new live show was bolstered even further by the inclusion of some thoroughly road-tested material from their new album, Zounds, with tracks such as new single 'The Piece' spreading fantastic vibrations across the packed space. But while the dancier edge to their new songs did well to get the festival crowd moving, it was still the enduring favourites such as 'Fire, Fire, Fire' and 'Holy Chord' that drew the greatest number of yelps.
Onwards to an even longer-standing Australian festival staple, You Am I. With Tim Rogers in ever-reliable form, their set was always going to be a must for those more inclined towards guitars and rock 'n' roll heartbreak, but the highlight must surely have been Jack Ladder's contribution to 'Heavy Heart'. Using his haunting voice, Ladder was able to evoke a completely new side to the song, turning what was once a ballad of laconic melancholy into something altogether more urgent.
That hazy time between 3pm and 6pm can so easily get hewed up standing around the tents, the bar, generally circulating and indulging in some of the other festival pleasures, such as deciding who to see next. The only major scheduling clash of the day occurred at 7:30pm, when I was forced to decide between seeing The Specials and Architecture in Helsinki. In the spirit of the carnival, I decided on the latter, having enjoyed their show so much at St Jerome's Laneway Festival earlier in the year. True to form, they did not disappoint, with frontman Cameron Bird waving the crowd into an aerobic Day-Glo frenzy during the closer, 'Heart it Races'.
The sudden cancellation of Jane's Addiction on Friday eased up another one of those scheduling clashes in advance, freeing me up to catch Midnight Juggernauts without hesitation. In what had already been a triumphant day for Australian music (you may have noticed that not a single international act has yet rated a full mention), the Midnight men provided a huge reply to those who had undersold them earlier in their career - this writer included. A solid 18 months of international touring with the likes of Daft Punk and Justice, as well as slots at a number of the world's major festivals such as Coachella, has done more than just sharpen their act. A pounding version of 'Tombstone' showed that they progressed from twenty-something wunderkinds into pretty serious contenders inside a couple of years.
Having already seen Bloc Party a number of times, I opted not to catch their entire set and risk securing a good spot for Happy Mondays. What I did see was the first half of another reliable performance from the band. Kele Okereke did well to draw a lot from songs off their last two albums that were lacking somewhat as studio tracks, giving them the kiss of life and showing them perhaps for what they should have been when put back into a live context.
Despite the strength of the local showing for day one, it had been Happy Mondays that I was hanging out to see for quite some time before actually arriving at the festival. There were several reasons for this: firstly, to see if their notoriously hit-and-miss live show would live up to the occasion, or if it would descend under a barrage of Shaun Ryder psychobabble and self-mythologising. Secondly, it was an opportunity to see one of the few remaining bands of the Madchester vintage in the flesh. Thirdly, it's the Mondays, and when they're on, they're on. They were so good in their time that even the highbrow tastemakers at The Wire felt compelled to include them on a top 100 gigs of all time list a couple of years ago. With all this in mind, I was glad not to be disappointed. They were able to bust the show wide open almost from the second they took the stage, with a gigantic version of 'Kinky Afro', which proved a fitting opener for what was to follow; classics such as 'God's Cop', 'Loose Fit' and 'Hallelujah'. But it was the inimitable 'Step On' which provided a fitting closure to the day, with Shaun and Bez trading words for moves in full flight, after what looked like a tiring set for the big Mancunian (he spent much of the second half sitting on the drum rider dragging on Marlboro after Marlboro). Nothing that I didn't expect or hope for from a Happy Mondays show, in what proved to be an even better end to the day than I could have asked for.
Marcus Browne
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