HYDEN ALL THE WAY

WAVE ROCK WEEKENDER

Hyden
Saturday-Sunday, September 26-27, 2009

Wave Rock owns me. This reviewer doesn’t like to use the word ‘I’ in reviews, but this event is altogether different to any usual gig or festival as you get the feeling that everything is indeed is happening to you or with you, anything other than merely at you. The faces of those returning to the Wave smiled knowingly, those new to the experience nodded agreeingly as the slow rush of contentment took over.

With Geelong managing to shake off sentimental favourites St Kilda – this too is a Wave Rock tradition, the screening of the AFL Grand Final is a uniquely bonding experience in the middle of nowhere – the stage was set for fun, sun, music, something to fill your glass with, old friends and some new ones. Repeat until it’s time to go home.

This isn’t the type of event to treat like a normal gig review. The best bands at Wave Rock are always the ones that take note of the atmosphere and surroundings and run with it, whether they totally get it or not.  Mo Wilson & The Drivers opened proceedings and while the response was relaxed it was of warm, laidback excitement, as it was for Lee Memorial. To see Karl Smith - one-time king of the indie kids at the Grosvenor with Thermos Cardy before Sodastream went internationale – rocking it up with a newer, harder band, in the outback, was strange yet succulent fruit indeed. Day Of The Dead’s traditional sunset set brought out the surf from Wave Rock and the dust from the desert. They love it here and are loved back. Boom! Bap! Pow! brought the ballroom to the desert, lotsa chops and fun, with vocalist Novak seemingly beside herself just being there, with a beam she retained for the whole weekend.

And while five ticketholders took refunds because Jamie T had cancelled due to laryngitis, it is true that the Wave Rock Weekender has headlining material on the bill, but the event is not merely about headliners. Yes, it was a shame, but moving on was easy stuff. Especially when Steve Malkmus & The Jicks were up next. Reports of a mediocre Amplifier performance the night before had some worried, but on this night Malkmus and co put on a show of wonderfully fluid guitar interplay and geeky cool. If the mainman looked a little awkward with it, his delivery didn’t fall down and the rest of the band looked like they were having the time of their lives. With talk of Pavement’s imminent reformation, Malkmus’ presence made Hyden the centre of the alt-rock world last weekend. Fancy that.

Sugar Army took to the stage and really embraced the nature of the event.  High on everyone’s radar at the moment in any case, the band don’t play it too-cool-for-school and knowing that the audience were simply bustin’ for a good time they delivered with gusto. It was a no-ego, mutual appreciation with the crowd kind of set and no doubt they shall always remember it.

Sunday morning slid down and was greeted with early, awakening sets from Kelly Malone, Roly Skender and Steve Parkin.  Skender contributed a lot to the whole experience - this agreeable acoustic set; wondrous imagery screened up on Wave Rock after midnight each night and a spot of kite-flying in the afternoons for anybody who was up for it. Parkin is a different kind of eccentric, dodging a speeding fine that morning and arriving as something of a self-appointed alarm clock for these slightly dazed punters – he is a fine pop songwriter and performer and a funny fuck, with it. A skinny white boy with an acoustic guitar playing Beyonce’s Single Ladies in the desert is a laughing matter indeed. Wagons were a great follow up, all country with a touch of irony and a big ole sound to boot. Emily Barker brought it down to a more mellow hue, but it was still afternoon delight. Justin Townes Earle is the son of Steve Earle and looks like one of The Proclaimers. Both, actually. But when he opened his mouth, the Southern drawl charmed everyone immediately and his songs reached into the bittersweet in all of us.

The Sunshine Brothers actually played. Small wonder as Jimmy Lips had been lost on the highway an hour earlier, and bassist Matt Cheetham had to fly six hours from Brisbane (where he’d played the night before with Downsyde) then make the four-hour drive, getting there with only minutes to spare. Appropriately the boys dubbed the sunset down, nice and mellow at first, then upping the ante as folks rose to their feet. The set was a celebration of all this weekend is about and given that organiser Paul Sloan mans their drumkit, was all the more reason to unload a few champagne bottles.

There’s plenty of great musicians at this event, who remain to become audience members after they have played. For them, the set by the Menahan Street Band represented all that they aspire to. The heart and the soul and the feel of the playing was something to behold, leaving musos thrilled and music-lovers ecstatic. Guest vocalist Charles Bradley unveiled seemingly a voice dipped in both gold and glitter, both Brown and Pickett. It was no less than incredible and possibly beyond transcending. Picking up more from where the Sunshine Brothers left off were King Tide and it was a welcome set of toasting for the toasted. This left Charlie Bucket, the good-time musicologist, to cap the night off. He is an instrumentalist on turntables and was as much there for the crowd as they were for him. Love was in the air, if not indeed everywhere.

That chubby Daryl guy once used to proclaim, ‘you’ll never never know, if you never ever go’. If we may borrow the phrase and geographically relocate it to Wave Rock for a moment, it indeed holds quite true. It seems a stretch for some to make the journey, but it’s so damn easy being there. In a short 48 hour period, people forget their homely worries or jobs (and I forgot about the music industry) and give themselves up to endless land and sky. We’ll be talking about this one until the day before the next one.

_ BOB GORDON