Issue 14 Volume 1 December 2007

Page 8

 

 

Queenscliff rocks

...continued from front page

On check-in, my first little gripe emerged blinking into the sunshine. Ticket registration requires that a plastic strip be fastened around your wrist. Technically, you are not allowed to remove this until the festival is over. I know of at least two people who have problems with skin irritation because of this plastic strip. I put it over my long-sleeved shirt, and later in the weekend simply cut it off, then sticky-taped it back together so it looked unbroken. There must be a better way.

On to the show...

Chris Wilson and Shane O'Mara, in the well-sited big tent that covered the main stage, delivered a set that was simultaneously relaxed and polished, with all the rough edges worn off. Both are masters of their instruments, whether voice, guitar or Wilson's acerbic harmonica.

The Basics, performing on an overly dark stage in a characterless tent at the Fishnets venue, pulled off a poppy and well-received set, with very competent lead vocals from the drum seat by Wally De Becker. A problem all drummer-lead singers face is that they are stuck behind a drum kit. Perhaps that is why there are so few. Or maybe it's just difficult. De Becker makes it look easy.

Spectrum have been around, on and off, for over 30 years, so it is unsurprising that they have worn a very smooth groove in all their work. Playing in the big tent, they demonstrated for the umpteenth time how their catchy riffs and dynamically sophisticated work, not to mention Mike Rudd's Crosby-like voice and perfectly placed guitar licks, can still excite audiences. Granted, the crowd was mostly made up of hippie wannabees who had been fans for years, yet there were some younger faces that seemed to be digging it.

Fishnets bad mojo notwithstanding, San Lazaro put in one of the outstanding performances of the festival. A superb Latin band, singing (and rapping) in Spanish, they played magnificently, with a 9-piece mix of traditional and electric instruments. Of special note were the bassist and the drummer, but all players performed the mix of salsa, rhumba, funk, reggae and rap (sometimes all in one song) with panache. The best dance band of the festival, without doubt.

Wally de Becker resurfaced on the main stage with Gotye. This extraordinary and now-famous band had a suitably eclectic line-up which included a brass section and a string quartet (mostly inaudible) as well as someone somewhere spinning in samples and backing tracks. Gotye has been compared to Peter Gabriel for their richness of musical palette and melodic invention. De Becker, also the lead singer and creative genius of this band, uses a beautiful floating high voice, often sweetly melancholy. Playing from the front of the stage with a partly-electronic kit, he showed great technical virtuosity, especially in some drum 'n bass type grooves played live. He was justly acclaimed by a crowd of several thousand.

The Unconscious Brothers finished my evening. For an all-star cast including the superb Tim Neal, and with guests Mia Dyson, Ross Hannaford and Chris Wilson, it was a pretty ordinary showing, with lacklustre material, uninspired playing and an obvious and unfortunate lack of preparation. Yes, great players all, but it wasn't happening this night. Ross Hannaford made a creditably goofy and energetic effort to keep things moving, and the band cheerfully dealt with some disastrous technical problems, and Mia Dyson displayed at least a pleasant stage presence, even if her playing was unexceptional. But hey, blame it on Fishnets, the Venue of Death, the Stage of Doom. At least the well-lubed crowd enjoyed this unofffensive musical nightcap.

In the less-than-salubrious Foot-In-The-Door venue, The Wishing Well played some memorable alternative folk and did it very nicely, with lovely vocals and backing and some very accomplished violin playing. Much less interesting was Renee Geyer on the main stage who, with a large and no doubt expensive band of excellent players, made a lot of high quality noise which pleased fans. To me, her arrangements seemed lacklustre, and her singing was fine but uninspiring.

On Saturday night, a strong theme was the just-completed Federal election, and once again musicians proved to be anything but a Liberal constituency. Many a comment from the stage alluded to change, a new day, hope and so forth.

True to form, the Fishnets tent during daylight hours was a real vibe-killer, (despite being the only alchohol-serving venue on the site proper). Soldiering bravely on, Even competently played what was to me mostly unmemorable pop – I vastly preferred Ash Naylor's later performance with Paul Kelly.

The Go set, a bunch of cheerful Scots ruffians, would obviously be a wow on the pub circuit for a drunken night out. It's always a test of a band when something goes wrong, and Go Set recovered well from a song start in the wrong key (I blame Fishnets). Their heroic Celtic-rock style was underlined by good humour and not taking themselves too seriously. They also limited themselves to mercifully brief and surprisingly musical bouts of bagpipery.

By this time a high scatter of dust was warming up the sunset. Time to stroll across and join the small but enthusiastic crowd watching the end of Tim McMillan's set at the Foot-In-The-Door hall. McMillan, a guitarist haling from Frankston, displayed a hyperactive and astonishingly virtuosic approach to the acoustic guitar. His Click Song was both funny and technically astounding, and heavily used his trademark of lightning picking interspersed with guitar percussion. The crowd was small but enthusiastic.

Then across to the main tent for Paul Kelly. Thousands crammed the tent to overflowing, the election was a done deal, Kelly talked about a new dawn between songs executed superbly with warmth and panache. With son Dan on keyboards and Ash Naylor guesting on guitar, the band had a great feel as Kelly played classic after classic. Hearing a show of justly famous songs delivered one after the other, knowing that a whole gigful of such songs is merely the tip of the iceberg, I was confronted again with the quality and quantity of Kelly's work. Additionally, his performance invited the huge audience into an intimate emotional world that was peculiarly Australian. A fitting show to bring in the new Australia.

(The festival went for another day, but I didn't go that day, so that's all I have to say about that.)

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