I've been sick as a dog this week. Like, painfully writhing and sweating in bed, barely able to eat or drink, babbling in tongues, head spinning around, puking green slime, swearing at priests...wait...
But in all seriousness, flu sucks. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday I was in bed all day after feeling pretty bad for the rest of the week. The only advantage to this that I can see is spinning through Boardwalk Empire, Ghost in the Shell, and two seasons straight of Daria.
I was in such Dire Straits I told Angus if I was still unable to make myself get up properly on Saturday I'd give him my Parklife ticket. Not a good day, though he was hopeful. Did manage to drag myself to the couch to watch Collingwood almost get beaten last night though.
Fueled purely on rage, this morning I woke up and took a buttload of painkillers, ate a healthy breakfast, and made my way to Parklife after stocking up on soothers and sculling an energy drink. Felt good until I saw my first "festival crew". Oh yeah. "Those" people. It is almost summer, time to break out the fake tan and short shorts so short (say that ten times) that nothing is left to the imagination (this is a good thing when girls wear them only, not guys. hint hint).
Anyway, since I couldn't get onto any of the Americans, wandered in after listening to an insanely inane conversation occurring behind me (it did not help that I'd been watching Daria for two days straight). That whole losing faith in humanity thing springs to mind...
So, through the gate, have a look around, grab my DFA79 tshirt. Weird set up, and I only saw one map. Stages all had stupid names. Main arena was cool but no one amazing was playing there, two smaller stages around the back, then a tiny stage behind the main arena. As well as that, there was a pirate ship stage hidden behind an ambulance, a tree, and a hill. Stupid idea.
Saw a bit of Naked and Famous, who I will admit aren't bad live. Wandered down to the little stage and watched Gold Fields. Pretty good, so young though. Very... triple j? sound. Which isn't surprising, considering who picked them up.
I should also note, at this stage, that since it was after twelve and I hadn't had a beer for a week I believed it was time for a beer. It cost ten bucks (one of them you could get back later). Rubbish. This was a can of Boags, nothing fancy.
Anyhoo, kept strolling, Yacht Club DJs had half a dozen people dressed as aliens dancing on stage, and when they began a dubstep track a yip yip alien from Sesame Street emerged. That is quality.
Almost as funny was the lukewarm crowd reaction to Kimbra, while a news crew covered her. She is the "it girl" of the moment, as The Age website reminds me at least once a week. Stop that, you're showing your age.
8 Bit Love were hidden away on the pirate ship, the poor bastards. They played the same show they did last time I saw them except with a little less enthusiasm. About half a dozen hipsters were dancing like hipsters in front of them, occasionally rolling down the hill.
Caught up with Ness and her friends after this, had a brief chat then suddenly, oh. my. god.
Death From Above 1979 put on the loudest, funniest, craziest, most intense show I've ever seen. It was brilliant. Favourite band I've seen live by far, and I've seen a lot of bands. It was the sort of show where everyone (except a couple of girls who must have been there for the boyfriend or something who gave us greasies every time they got bumped into) was there for the same reason. You could mosh or dance, everyone screaming every word. You might bash into some dude but he'd just put his arm around you and sing along with you. Loved the band's huge finishing jam session, culminating in Sebastien throwing his snare at the rest of the kit. Brilliant versions of Dead Womb and Blood on Our Hands. Romantic Rights was the same as Coachella, but he finished it properly. And yes, I damn well enjoyed roaring You're a Woman I'm a Machine's chorus.
*cough* I gush too much sometimes (c/f Grinderman in this year's BDO review...), but really, that was worth price of admission alone. Just fantastic.
Had some time to burn before Digitalism, so back to the little stage and caught Flux Pavilion, who Angus and the Americans love. And yeah, he was good, but I did not expect a hype man shouting "COME ON" every thirty seconds. So that kind of messed it up a bit, but still, you can't really say no to dubstep when it's done live (yes, I know, "live").
Refueled on an overpriced and slightly cold burger, checked out a bit of Crystal Fighters, then caught the end of Example (right when he played the only songs of his I've heard). He seemed very excited, even if the backing band did not. Wolfgang Gartner seemed to be only playing other people's songs, disappointingly. I wanted to hear Firepower.
Digitalism were good fun once they got going, they played a new single that I didn't know then went straight into Zdarlight. Two Hearts and Idealism were highlights, but the best part was by far a rework of Pogo where they seemed to discover the subwoofer. Jesus. Surprised people in Eureka tower did not feel that. Brilliant.
Watched half of MSTRKRFT's set, but I'd seen enough JFK in Death From Above's set. The best part was seeing a dude dressed as Gumby (like, full costume) doing The Sprinkler. Lot of festival costumes around, did see a Hunter S Thompson and grabbed a sneaky photo of him before my phone died (should I see to a replacement camera?).
Went around to the other stages, Gossip was not my kind of thing (except for Jolene, that transcends just about everything, including preaching about homophobia). Nero was packed with BRO type douches at the tiny stage, which made moving difficult when all you wanted was a look from the back. They sounded like dubstep (well duh, I hear you say). I imagine all the fake tanned girls exploded when they played Promises.
While strolling past a tent, I noticed a sign that said they'd give you a dollar for every can you pick up. People were walking in with handfuls. Jesus, I thought, that's brilliant. Five minutes later, made $35, which paid for the shirt, the beer, and the food. Five more cans and it could have paid for the cloak room and the train ticket. Not a bad idea really, especially if you have nothing to do between sets (and drinks are stupidly expensive).
Anyway, saw the start of Lykke Li, she's very attractive but her music isn't really my scene (gothic indie pop. not a promising start). Decided to say screw it, and watched twenty thousand bogans jump up and down in front of a large rubber duck waiting to yell Barbara Streisand. A Trak I'd seen before, and he was pretty good at Falls. But yeah, nothing mind blowing. Lauren randomly walked past, so I caught her and met Jess and Easy. They were pretty munted, or at least Jess was, and were on their way out after rescuing a German girl. So Easy and I headed home a little early, which meant we only got the last of the rugby crowd instead of getting the Barbara Streisand crowd of pinged out bogans.
Unfortunately, yes, this did mean that I missed out on seeing twenty thousand bogans yell Barbara Streisand. No doubt the buildup, from what I heard, was excruciating for them, however, I do fully intend on joining the Salefest bogans and yelling it repeatedly at every second bloody pub in two weeks time... shut up.
Now I'm home, walked in on Baz and a now sick Angus watching Jurassic Park (YES!) 3 (NO!), and just rapped all of Clint Eastwood when it popped up on rage. Excellent.
So yeah, this week has been pretty awful, really, but today was good fun. Next week, back into the grinder for six more weeks. Probably nothing too exciting, but I've been wrong an awful lot. The only tricky thing will be trying to wriggle out of journalism on Thursday for the radio training thing. We'll see how that goes. Oh, and some douchebag's coming to visit from Canberra.