The Essential Festival

Some say that qualities such as chivalry, gallantry and valor were possessed only a long time ago. While many paid their respects for bold and brave Anzacs who possessed all of the above qualities; a large gathering came to The Essential Festivalinstead.

While most were no doubt enjoying their rare mid-week sleep in, The Seabellies were the first form of entertainment. The first band on the bill are often stage shy because they are newly removed performance virgins, or simply because they are crappy. The Seabellies fit into neither of the two categories. Songs were protuberant and infectiously capturing. Trickles on the high register of a keyboard caused unexpected shudders on account of its beauty. Unified drum beating caused unified awe and jaw-dropping amazement. 'Songs from Wave Your Fingers To Make The Winters' were played along with other unknown beauties. The Seabellies are the next shit-hot thing.

Some hype surrounds Soft Tigers however I don’t see why that is. Their electro-thrash- indie-rock sound is undecipherable from others with a similar sound and its borderline tacky.

The Hate Game sound fine but something lacks in them. Although they played well despite sickness, they do not play as a band but instead seem to concentrate on their own individual parts. A combined effort at an attempt to gain a unique stage style will do them well.

Flamingo Crash were unfortunately ridiculed with mediocrity. This usually impressive outfit failed to impress this time round. Their short snappy songs were instrumentally extended unnecessarily and caused a loss of the shtick which made them so loveable. But they did stick 'Shoot The Lights Out' in my head; so maybe their shtick may return.

Regular John were a thrill to most. All members were most involved in their own parts and their counterparts. They are a band in the truest sense; their set was extremely tight and their sound is one that’s recognisable. They don’t just play punk, they are punk.

The Madison was too small to hold the audience that The Dolly Rocker Movement had summoned. Their 60s inspired psychedelic sound reminded me of a time when noise was just not music; it was art. Their organ motifs are sweet and happy and tied with a brushed guitar: they are pop at its prime.

Guido’s The Paper Scissors were enjoyable. Latin inspired tunes, heavy beats, extremely catchy and moving guitars and throaty vocals equal a funky tune with the fun extremely evident. There were low points when the music turned into time-filling, but the disco anthem 'We Don’t Walk' made all the boring times fade away.

Teenagers In Tokyo will shit all over you if you are a shitty band. Regardless of their hipster rock-meets-electro conventions; these ladies and lad prove their not one of those shitty hipster bands. They’re sure to get you grooving even if you refuse. Songs were spot on and the crowd was spot on to witness it. Viva le ladies!

Young And Restless deserve the admiration they receive. The quintet have not put a toe out of line. Their songs are so damn danceable and riot like that they make The Yeah Yeah Yeahs look like peaceful monks. 'Satan, I Pointed At You And You Burst Into Flames' and 'Dirty Kicks' were known due to their radio rotation – but with an album due mid July, this will no longer be the case. Leading lady Karina Utomo runs rampage in an effortless manner that sees her scream so much you’re sure her little lungs are soon to give up. But her pipes are here to stay, and so are Young and Restless.

A stream of unfortunate events dictated the Bit By Bats set. At first all seemed fine and dandy as 'Neon Flux' and the other first numbers were belted out. However soon a black cat was to cross the Bats stage. Things began to turn for the worst when Ben Macklin left in search for an operating bass pedal, leaving Peter Gravestock and Owen Eszeki to fill in time and an Elves cover caused more cringing than being stuck in a lift with elevator music to drive you insane. Thankfully upon Macklin’s return a much sharper, together and havoc-wreaking performance was noticeable – perhaps a result of an obligation to compensate. But yet again that metaphoric fucker slyly pranced across the stage and Eszeki was a standing rag doll while roadies attempted to adjust his guitar to his waist. 'Like A Panther', 'Maurie and Marie' and 'One Six One' were belted out before Eszeki threw himself to the floor in relief after a hard days’ work. Sometimes life can just be a bitch to you.

Grand-dancers Dappled Cities Fly put on a routinely good set. 'Cream', 'Granddance', 'Peach', 'The Eve The Gir'l and other Dappled favourites were played to a wistful crowd who craved Dappled’s babies whom they birthed with diligence and class. Dressed up in half suites and sharp attire, Dappled Cities Fly are just like a flapper; bold, unconventional, desirable and one who puts out every time.

Headliners Gerling strutted on stage and they were greeted by the cheers and claps of a crowd that consumed the The Gaelic in its entirety. The hits started rolling out, the crowd surfers commenced their non-stop crowd surfing while the rest danced uncontrollably and the drinks kept being topped up. 'Blood on the Mic', 'In The City' and 'Turning The Screws' were served between Borat impersonations and along with other conversational amusements. A plethora of ‘Senorita won’t you take me to the drug store’ chants blew the roof off the Gaelic, and when the party seemed at its final grand moments, and Gerling announced that this was their final show for the year; the ultimate show-stopper 'Who’s Your Daddy' was served as the tastiest delight that will ever treat your senses. Keen to keep the party going, an encore was demanded and the obliging knights complied. But sadly, they lay their swords down for the final time; which are sure to be on fire the next time they are pulled out for the battle they are to conquer.

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