Splendour 2010: Day One

ANDREW MCMILLEN reports on day one of Splendour In The Grass as it makes its Woodfordia bow. Photos by JUSTIN EDWARDS.

Our decision to arrive at Woodfordia – Splendour’s new site after 10 years at Belongil Fields in Byron Bay – around midday on Thursday proved wise. Those less punctual were subject to queues that stretched back a reported 10 kilometres as security checked vehicles for booze. Upon winding down car windows, our friendly guard tried scare tactics.

“Where’s the booze?” he demanded.
“Pardon?”
“It’s easier to give it up now than face a potential fine of up to $1000,” he began, while his offsiders began rummaging through our vehicle. They came up empty-handed.

A great many passed these tests, however, judging by the amount of “BYO” consumption that occurred throughout the weekend. Note to self: never underestimate the human capacity to do whatever it takes to get fucked up.

These initial difficulties were seemingly compounded by the fact that the venue’s only public entrance is via a single road. Perhaps the venue could benefit from multiple entrances? Just a thought.

Once safely inside, Thursday was spent setting up camp in cowpat-littered paddocks and becoming familiar with the festival grounds. Gates eventually opened at 4pm. Though the Thursday evening program was limited - none of the three bigger stages were operating, though the smaller Temple Stage hosted some live acts and DJ sets until 3am - it provided our first glimpse of the festival’s new home.

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

Day One: July 30

Woodfordia is spacious, picturesque and well-equipped. General admission campers enter the festival via gates that lead past the Temple Stage, food stalls, a wine bar and “Ibeefa”, an Ibiza piss-take where DJs person the decks atop a boat anchored to the centre of a dirty lake. It’s adjacent to a grassy dancefloor and a cocktail bar. The Tipi Forest is hidden away to the east. It remains the place to catch obscure drum and bass for 16 hours a day.

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.] [Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

Besides the music on the main stages, there’s no dearth of entertainment elsewhere within the festival grounds. The Temple Stage hosts an array of curiosities throughout the weekend – from dance and yoga classes, to an entertaining “vocal workshop” hosted daily by Mr Percival, where participants are encouraged to shake off their hangovers by singing. Food stalls offer exhaustive options and bars are abundant. However, owing to Queensland liquor licensing laws, only mid-strength and light beer are available (which explains why so many mixed spirits cans are littered around the place.)

The mid-strength beer topic is one of many raised during the 10am “Splendour Q+A session”, which sees event co-founders Paul Piticco and Jessica Ducrou responding to audience questions regarding the venue move, the lack of Brisbane sideshows, and why the empty aluminium can recycling scheme didn’t return in 2010.

Pressing on past the two tents - the Mix Up and the G.W. McLennan - you meet the entrance to the Amphitheatre, the venue’s main stage. You’re confronted with a choice: take the high road, raise your heartrates with a somewhat steep climb, and reward yourself by snagging a spot on the hillside. Or you can take the low road, which provides better access to the stage and a closer look. What they’ve installed is not quite a Big Day Out-style “D” barrier, but a sturdy structure with entrances on both sides that bisects those on the hill from those more keen to traverse the rocky terrain front-of-stage. Stepping into the Amphitheatre for the first time on Friday is a memorable moment for first-time Woodfordia attendees: nestled among tall trees, it’s a stunning backdrop against which to witness live music. When it’s full, it’s breathtaking. (Strokes singer Julian Casablancas later dubs the teeming Amphitheatre a “cauldron of humanity” during their headline slot on Saturday night.)

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.] [Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

At 11am, triple j Unearthed winners Jinja Safari are the first performers to step onto the Amphitheatre stage. For a band who only played their first show in May, they’ve been thrown into the deep end: first Splendour, then supporting dance act Art Vs Science throughout August. Their sound invests heavily in the let’s-get-naked-and-run-around-in-the-forest ideal that makes Animal Collective so appealing (to some, anyway). They retain the percussive aspects of that group, but shun synths in favour of more delicate instrumentation, namely xylophone and sitar. They sound like a more marketable Jonathan Boulet. They’ll be selling out venues within 12 months.

Same stage, two hours later: Violent Soho are having none of that “dancey shit”. Their sound - loud, dirty and ugly - is subtle as bombs. They’re the black ducklings of this festival by a considerable margin. People on the hill are looking at them like they woke up on the wrong side of 1992. Fuck that. They’re real. This is music for outcasts made by outcasts, and the fact they’re playing to a bunch of hipsters isn’t lost on them. Singer Luke Boerdam introduces ‘Muscle Junkie’ with bile (“This one’s for the dickheads who beat people up on Australia Day”). A small circle pit opens up. Their music and “don’t give a fuck” attitude divides the audience right down the middle.

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.] Located in the centre of the festival grounds is the Mix Up Tent, which plays host to predominantly dance-based acts throughout the weekend. The neighbouring G.W. McLennan Tent is situated just a couple of minutes’ walk away (in contrast to its isolated location at Belongil). The two stages’ proximity proves troublesome on occasion, when Mix Up beats bleed into the (generally) gentler acts showcased at the McLennan.

Acts such as Washington, who shrugs off mid-afternoon competition from British India on the main stage to fill the tent. Her debut album I Believe You, Liar is released today, and judging by the crowd in attendance, high rotation triple j airplay has worked wonders. Everything about her is delightful: the verbose songwriting, the assured stage manner, her punchy band who are playing the gig of their lives. In these 45 minutes, Megan Washington arrives. Move over, Blasko: Australian indie-pop has a new queen.

Rumours abound that the event has surpassed the 32,000 figure quoted by organisers (30,000 payers and a 2000-strong guestlist). At times it certainly feels that way. Bottlenecks appear near the McLennan Tent, whose only access is via two narrow pathways. Midway through Friday, the crowd finds a shortcut to the Amphitheatre through a nearby hillside. Vegetation is decimated as thousands eke out a path over the course of the day. Overnight, the shortcut is gated off.

Standout performances from international acts dominate the rest of Friday: Foals, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and LCD Soundsystem all kill. Ben Harper’s mostly acoustic (and kinda dull) headlining set hits an apex when he calls up INXS drummer Jon Farriss for a full-band version of ‘Never Tear Us Apart’. His slide guitar replaces Kirk Pengilly’s sax solo. (Days later, a press release announces plans to release the cover as a standalone single. Clever!) A few songs earlier, Harper invited a little-known Perth singer-songwriter named Grace Woodruff to lead a song. Web searches yield few results. Who is Grace Woodruff? We’re curious.

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DAYS TWO AND THREE, HERE: Bleary-eyed talkfests, auxillery percussion and performances by Jonathan Boulet, Philadelphia Grand Jury and The Vines.