Thursday, March 12, 2009

Golden Plains stole my dingo.

Yo Ho little fishies,

Ahh....The Ribald debauch that is Golden Plains. Or Golden Showers as some quicker witted degenerates have dubbed it.
Indeed, as one great old man of rock has said "This is for the children of Woodstock!"
Whether he meant the freak fest of 60's legend, or the cut price Bourbon sold by the bucket I'm not sure, but luckily we can get a little goodness from Column A and a little sauciness from Column B, provided Column B hasn't been drunk by fridge hobos.

Any's the run down of bands that were doco'd by the SWNN team (which means Me. And I'm not that reliable, given I'd just out Hunter'ed Leary at the time).

The Harpoons - I was asleep in tent
Deaf Wish - Think i may have rolled over and heard something. I dunno.
Dan Deacon- Still snoozing but he seemed like a pratt. Yeah fuck it. Lets go with that.
Brant Bjork and the Bros- When will he be famous? You have to ask. My first band of the Fest had all the charm of a hairy children's bulldozer. The bass player looked like some sort of chromosome deficient pan handler and ten points to a band that can play a riff for 15mins and still get into it. Mind you, if you shaved the lead singer you could re-fur a balding Lama. No worries. Good to see some sludgey, fudgey rock goodness. Were nearly as good as my steak sanger. Maybe they should've poured sauce on the drums. Just a thought.
The Black Seeds - Yeah yeah yeah...boom chika reggae nerds try and make N.Z funky. Good luck with that kids. Standard issue rasta pasta. With Bonglignaise sauce.
Black Mountain - The best bit about these electric fuzz tides was arguing with camp members as to whether the lead singer was a bloke or a shelia. Any bands that confuses everyone gets a tick from me. Loud enough to make you sign "My ears are bleeding amniotic fluid!" which is what you want at a Festival. Good solid affair.
Mogwai- Ever wondered what would happen if you turned everything up as loud as it would go, linked all your effects pedals together twice and then stared moodily at the floor for 40mins? Then Glasgow may be for you! Bunch of electric tsunami humping bum fondlers. Thank you. Off you pop, back to Shitville.
Of Montreal- Dunno. Crashed.
You Am I - These bastards woke me up. I''m hating them for that alone.
DJ's- Sounded like someone crashing helicopters together.

Woke up bright as a button on Sunday (assuming the button was pretty fucked up and had probably fallen off an op shop cardie to start with) and got into the culture again via a pie and a can of cut priced German beer (what the fuck is hopsextract?)

Luluc- Yup. Pretty. Good music to find your brain again too. Mind you, don't know what i would have done with it had it been located. Coherence is a liability at these gatherings.
Dan Kelly and the Ukeladies- I fuckin' hate ukuleles. End of story.
Jim White and John Doe- Ten grand to tell funny stories and then try and figure out what your gunna play next? Ten grand to ring up a mate and say "Do you know the chords to Sweet Home Alabama and I'll yak on about some hobo being stabbed during a chitterlings fight in a swamp with a blind banjo preacher with a girl who snorted coke off her own boobs in a Cadillac during a hurricane? Course you do my son!". I lasted about four songs and then went and had a lie down.
Bridezilla - Don't know. Eating.
Pivot- Still eating. Sounded fuzzy from camp.
Old Crow Medicine Show- Yup. Tops. Jangley, clangly bluegrasshole dudes who put the Old in Golden. A nice change from ethereal whisperers and infernal buzzery. Just shows Australians are possum guzzling hillbillies at heart.
My Disco- Was in a tent laughing at a shoe
Quintron and Miss Pussycat- Good reports but I had been booked by musical maverick JonesCo to run a small off-broad way festival in a tent. All went well. Tickets on sale soon. No idea about other band.
The Church- Shit then. Shit now. Some dirty looking bagwan guitar player put in a blinder but Steve Kilby is a knob. First song was about God or some shit. Get ya hand off it Steve-o.
Tony Allen- Billed as a top Afropop drummer who was going to turn this sucker out, but ended up as dithery lounge act. The easiest cash made by a Nigerian dude outside of a Internet scam.
The Drones - Ha! Good stuff. I'll go as far to say these guys should be talked about along acts such as ACDC, The EasyBeats and Flash and the Pan. Top blood-sweating schitz smash folk. Worth price of entry alone. I heard three songs then went and had a shit. Strangely, that was a very high compliment.
Gary Numan- Old man Numan cranked up the pop moves and exhibited struts and pouts thought to be extinct. Nu-man does nu-metal to nu-kids. He's like the Ikea Nick cave. Flat packed under the bed for too long. Hope for us all (assuming we all hope to be ever so slightly paunchy versions of nineties synth crunch.....mmmmm...synth crunch...where's my handbag?......)
DJ's- More airport misdirection from DJ Arse Clown and The Crack Pinger Crew..

And that was it!
Special thanks to JonesCo for the eight ball tournament, to Ray's for knocking out the big, cheap tents and to those crazy kids who like to muck around in chemistry class.

Kick on til' next time.

Mick "I've glad I'm past three-ways with nutty strangers" Dog.

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