Essential Festival

The sky was grey, the temperature cooling fast, and it was still only 11am. In short, the perfect weather for an Indie Festival. We were greeted by a fashion parade of hip kids: cute indie girls in sweater dresses, choppy hair and footless tights, guys in stripy shirts, faded jeans and converse. Yes, those punky/indie/disco kids sure do like a fashion statement. I felt positively underdressed in my black uniform; some kind of inky stain on a sunshine-bright pinafore.

Local youngsters on the scene (and ‘Garage to V’ winners) Seabellies were well into their set by the time I got inside. Their spectacular finish with an all-band-inclusive drumming session won hearts; the energy and passion encapsulated by this band is a wonder. How did they end up picking up the not-too-savoury starting position? At 11.30am? When any self-respecting indie kid was barely on the verge of rolling out of bed? And before a number of bands that weren’t fit to shine their Converse?

After witnessing a couple of said bands, our group headed off to the Strawberry Hills Hotel for some $5 eats. This indie stuff was hard work. And there was something about the prevailing climate that made you want to snuggle up inside a friendly local, bevvie of choice in hand and a plate of fish ‘n chips infront of you.

Oh God, us Aussies don’t handle that weather well, and help me, I was turning into a Brit.

By the time we got back from our lunch, we’d had had a couple of drinks, and all was well. We were shocked to discover the breakage in theme that was Regular John, rocking the stage like some long-haired surf-metal punks who practised in the room next to Wolfmother. The energy is there, for certain, but where was the individuality?

In contrast, The Lovetones brought the churchy synth lines with a healthy dose of groove, and we danced like idiots tripping on acid through most of their set. They managed to put a new spin on the tired old psychedelic rock genre, engaging the crowd with their tunes, which always leave you with the feeling that there is some improvisation going on, somewhere.

Back upstairs, teenagersintokyo brought the disco punk, with a competent blend of strong beats, wailing vocals and chunky, jarring guitars. Getting to the front was a bitch – this band clearly enjoy whipping the crowd into a frenzy. A lot of fun!

Feeling like a change in pace, we headed next door to check out a quieter kind of noise. Four-piece Melbourne band Whitley provided an interesting counterpoint to the frenetic indie faire that characterised much of the day. Much of their material is nostalgic and possesses a quiet, melancholy beauty that at once hypnotises and charms. They were followed by Old Man River (otherwise known as Ohad Rein and company) who leant a more 60’s hippy-inspired vibe to proceedings, with favourite ‘Sunshine’ and the infectious ‘Trousers’.

I caught the last half of Belles Will Ring, but have to say I was not impressed. They seemed to lack something – they were working, that’s for sure. Where was the passion? The enthusiasm? The (packed) room seemed to enjoy it though, but quite frankly I found the couple infront of me tonguing I each other’s ears more interesting than the goings on up on stage.

After a quick squiz at I Heart Hiroshima – they have a lot of youthful energy but need to work their songs for the stage – we headed downstairs for headliners, Gerling.

My first impression was of a room suspiciously empty for the headliners. The band put in an honest, workmanlike effort, but the focus wasn’t there. It had been a long day. The room, 2/3rds of the way empty said it all, really. I know it’s wrong, I know it’s rude, I know it goes against any brittle notion of journalistic integrity I may possess… but I left halfway through.

All up, it was a serious mixed bag of a day, that is to say: definitely worth rolling out of bed before noon for. But at the end of the day, tired and with ears a-ringing, only one thing hung in my mind - I just wish I’d caught all of The Seabellies.

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