Reviewed Friday July 22 – Sunday July 24 (photos by Katrina Clarke)
Whether it was the unseasonably warm (and sunny) weather, campground security greeting revellers with high fives, quantities of glitter to rival the dirt, or perhaps just the most modern and diverse lineup Splendour In The Grass has seen in some time, this year’s festival was one of the biggest Australia has ever seen.
The mammoth three-day lineup saw a diverse array of people join their moonshine-swilling ’Strayan neighbours in celebrating the joys of live music under absurdly clear skies, but the real winners of the festival might surprise you: the older crowd, queer women and live R&B.
Kicking off the weekend as we’d be finishing – with young Aussie talent, of course – Alex Lahey was a worthy opener, banging out tracks and getting the crowd moving to her own disbelief. Sampa The Great proved herself Lady Kendrick, the grooviest and most heartfelt voice in Aussie hip hop, with a band so tight they had everyone in love. Add the effortless neo-soul cool of The Internet’s Syd, main stage appearances from Canadian electropop duo Tegan And Sara (despite subdued energy) and local legend Courtney Barnett (far from pedestrian), and you had some serious girl power across the three days.
Elsewhere, day one saw DMA’s tear up the Amphitheatre with an afternoon attendance to rival Inner West mates Sticky Fingers’ record from 2014. The first of the bigger dance acts, Hayden James, had the Mix Up Tent throbbing, while Peter Bjorn And John’s modern classic ‘Young Folks’ lit a spark after they played some newer material.
The Kills at Splendour In The Grass 2016. See part one of our full gallery here.
Violent Soho were at their violent best, kicking off a trio of huge acts taking to the Amphitheatre for Friday night. Then there were The Avalanches – who knew what to expect? A remix of ‘Frontier Psychiatrist’ with live vox from Gnarls Barkley’s ‘Crazy’ received a mixed response, as did ‘Frankie Sinatra’, performed in tone-deaf fashion with rapper Spank Rock doing a Danny Brown impersonation while reading the lyrics off a phone. The wait did not reward for those who stuck out the first night for The Strokes – Julian Casablancas’ disaffected airs did not gel well with the hyped-up crowd, particularly after they started late and ground out a setlist of dull later-day tracks. You’d forgive this same crowd for being near-homicidal when the bus system failed to get the exhausted day one crowd back to Byron until 4am.
A stellar start to a dusty (and very warm) Saturday, Ngaiire coolly bounced around performing vocal acrobatics and inducing goosebumps for her standout set. Later, James Vincent McMorrow melted hearts and got tears flowing with his faultless voice, belting out the falsetto despite plenty of chatter among the quiet over at the GW McLennan Tent.
The Amphitheatre was victim to contrarian scheduling on the Saturday in particular, with Gen X attendees made to endure a firebrand set from the reinvigorated At The Drive-In just to get decent floorspace for The Cure; the next day, young Flume devotees looked totally bewildered as they held place during James Blake’s decidedly anti-dance set. The young’uns were swayed by Blake’s technical difficulties, which forced him and his drummer to improvise a tasty set of beats that satisfied the ravers.
The patience did pay off enormously with a three-hour set from The Cure, covering every colour of tapestry they’ve weaved in their 40 years. The incomparable Robert Smith was, as his band’s name implies, the perfect antidote to the machismo expelled in powerhouse performances from King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard and Violent Soho. Still – three hours and no ‘Lovecats’?
With a cooler bite to the breeze and a diverse lineup of acts, Sunday delivered plenty to hold punters’ attention. Låpsley and her distinct and distorted vocals were a refreshing start, while it was a night of return and farewell sets for Jagwar Ma and The Preatures respectively. The Preatures’ swansong for guitarist Gideon Benson was lacking their usual dazzling spirit, and meant that being torn away to see Blake wasn’t nearly as hard as anticipated.
The Preatures at Splendour In The Grass 2016. See part two of our full gallery here.
Before too long, it was time for ADM and Splendour’s poster boy Flume to grace the stage. As Harley Streten mentioned himself, his career trajectory has paralleled his Splendour attendances over the past six years, with Sunday night’s certainly a zenith. There were impressive lighting and visuals galore, the smoothest of mixing, an uber-enthusiastic crowd, non-stop cameos from Aussie up-and-comers Remi, Vera Blue, Ngaiire, Kučka, Jess Kent and Baro, and general incredulity from Streten himself. Set to a sea of lighters and the more luminous modern-day equivalent, smartphone lights, the final surprise was the choice of his remix of Disclosure’s ‘You & Me’ to close. Did it ruin the magic at all? Not one bit – instead, it meant the curveballs kept coming for Splendour 2016, right to the very end.
Indeed, a festival is all about the moments. There was the bizarre scenario in which DJ Paces introduced guest vocalist Guy Sebastian to the stage, only for him to come face-to-face with a punter brandishing a Shannon Noll flag. At The Drive-In’s Cedric Bixler-Zavala destroying a light that dared to get in his way, telling the sickeningly on-trend Splendour-goers, “Don’t be a lookbook in life.” The rocked-up boy band stylings of The 1975 getting everyone into that nostalgia-goggled adolescent headspace. Blatant disco-creepers Total Giovanni greeting fans wearing mirroring costumes. Urthboy’s live-streamed “Fuck Pauline Hanson” speech. Gang Of Youths’ David Le’aupepe and Ball Park Music’s Sam Cromack rocking up to pay tribute to the dearly departed Szymon. The earth-shattering, emotional manner in which post-rock giants Sigur Rós closed the Mix-Up Stage, with Jónsi holding the highest note in ‘Festival’ for an eternity.
There will be as many stories as there were festivalgoers in the days to come, be they from folks as unshakably cool as The Kills or as lovably daggy as DMA’s, but a defining moment of unity came during Gang Of Youths’ otherwise hit-and-miss set, as Le’aupepe spoke from the heart: “I’m frightened, and that’s OK.” As achingly honest as ever, he spoke to our fears, our aspirations, our existential doubts, and assuaged them with his own. We’re all in this mess together, and his words should be made festival lore: “Drink lots, kiss each other, and don’t be a fucking c*nt.”
By Emily Gibb and David Molloy
