The best bits from the Golden Plains 2019 Festival

Golden Plains veteran Mikey Cahill reports on the best bits (and some downers) from the festival’s 13th birthday.

Here they are, the best bits (and some downers) from Golden Plains 13 with sneaky overheard quotes, truly odd bits, awards and the moment I came face-to-face with my mortal enemy.

Let’s just get that out of the way then we’ll get to Four Tet, Happy Mondays, Marlon Williams and bullants biting bums.

On my first foray down The Sup’ at 4pm I saw my least favourite opponent from Monday night basketball, a flopping, dirty-behind-the-play, annoyingly-clutch adversary. The well documented “No d---heads rule” was being challenged early.

THE PRODIGY’S KEITH FLINT TORE DOWN BARRIERS

HERE’S TO ALL THE WOMEN THAT MADE ME A MAN

CAHILL GRILL: MY DISCO’S BEN ANDREWS LOVES BIEBER

Bez doing Bez things for Happy Mondays.

“Here he is,” he said in his Stephen Kernaghan foghorn voice.

“My mortal enemy … my mortal frenemy,” I replied.

We both smirked.

“I knew you had layers,” he said.

“Apparently you do too.”

We shared an easy hug and agreed to be mates for two days.

It could have been the worst, it actually was the best. An unguarded moment.

That’s Golden Plains and why this terrain called the Supernatural Amphitheatre is such a treat.

These are in chronological order, kids.

FLOHIO

Flohio — The “Sarf Lundun” MC with grape cornrows and a grateful smile brought Prodigy sirens, slamming grime and trap to the mid-afternoon melange. And when she received the coveted ‘Boot? “That’s toxic!” she uttered, ripped a trainer off and held it up through purple lights and hazy smoke. “I take my shoe off to you.”

On stage banter: “Oh my days, you’re giving 100 per cent, lose yourself in this one, but look after yourselves. This is on Beast Mode!”

Off stage banter: “I like her one leg hop move.”

DOWNER: A badly sprained ankle meant I missed the Welcome to Country Smoking Ceremony and couldn’t push through until the wee hours each night. Boo.

The Welcome to Country Smoking Ceremony.

RHYE

Rhye plied big-band-but-not-bland funk rock with Hercules and Love Affair shades on Last Dance, The Fall and 3 Days. Singer Mike Milosh got a little thirsty for The Boot. One girl with a smile smeared across her face danced in a tree, a Converse held aloft.

On stage banter: “It’s a good looking crowd, man, Jesus Christ” and “Y’all got hands. Love your hands. People in Australia have really nice hands.”

Off stage banter: “I had a broken arm and Aunty gave us all a good chat and my anxiety eased.” — One of the 700 volunteers.

DOWNER: Milosh’s red bandana was not a vibe, move it or lose it my dude.

Marlon Williams’ croons cause swoons. Picture: Steve Benn

MARLON WILLIAMS

Marlon Williams sweats charisma out of his ruddy, pinchable cheeks. We all joined in for an afternoon croon to “What’s chasing you,” and then he got us right where he wanted us. “Do you f---horses like The Beegees?” he asked. Williams and the Yarra Benders knocked out I Started a Joke then galloped into Party Boy as the agile Kiwi finally escaped his guitar and darted around the stage, white singlet gripping his torso like many in the crowd desired.

On stage banter: “It’s Saturday night, time to party”

Off stage banter: “There’s a lot of moisture on the pitch.”

DOWNER: He didn’t bring out Lady Gaga to do Shallow or Aldous Harding to do Nobody Gets What They Want Anymore.

Dancers feeling super in the Supernatural Amphitheatre. Picture: Steve Benn

MAGIC DIRT

Magic Dirt took it to us with impunity. Adalita looked ghoulish and gorgeous wearing a dark red ‘80s prom dress, joined by her bandmates Raul Sanchez, Adam Robertson and a new guitarist who looked like scalped bank-robbing psychopath Waingro from Heat. They scorched the earth/our-faces with Pace It, Ice (“Am I waaasting, all your tiiiime?”), Plastic Loveless Letter and briefly allowed us to breathe on Dirty Jeans.

On stage banter: “We’re so overwhelmed to be here with you. F--- s--- up!!!” and their heartfelt tribute to Dean Turner (RIP).

Off stage banter: “Straight outta Gee-troit!”

DOWNER: I heard someone sat on a bullant’s nest. Bummer.

BEACH HOUSE

Beach House make Healing Music for heaven. When they played Bloom I thought about my beautiful, cheeky daughters, the tides, old friends and then a wave of melancholy washed over me for the loss of The Prodigy’s Keith Flint (RIP). I sipped my homemade Aperol Spritz, someone waved a gold pompom in my face and I hugged my mates.

On stage banter: I think it was all mental telepathy.

Off stage banter: “I want them to be playing in my bathroom every time I’m using Aesop handwash.”

DOWNER: A friend told me she cut her finger at the Souvlaki Kitchen. NB: filling this category is getting hard guys.

Magic Dirt tear it up. Picture: Steve Benn

ACID MOTHERS TEMPLE AND THE MELTING PARAISO UFO

Acid Mothers Temple and The Melting Paraiso UFO wound up for 40 minutes without a crescendo then became a “Monsuta” and (wait for it) absolutely vaporised the crowd and the air and nearly dislodged Sirius the Dog Star. Their “Nature was irrepressible.”

On stage banter: “Skeeeearrrrreoowwwww,” sayeth the guitars.

Off stage banter: “Acid Mothers have taken me to another universe and I’m not sure how to get back.” — Nate Nott

DOWNER: I heard the climax from the top of the hill, my lucky friends were front row (and haven’t been seen since).

SUNDAY

THE LIVING EYES

The Living Eyes reopened the batting after Liz Phair’s mostly washed out set. It was like bloody Essendon out there ie. Windy Hill. Their jutting approach matched their cheekbones and the last song was like Sex Pistols with a swaying, thrumming bassline.

On stage banter: “I just pissed myself.”

Off stage banter: “These guys are sick!”

DOWNER: You had to feel for Liz Phair.

AMP FIDDLER

Amp Fiddler is definitely the first person in The Sup’ to rock the blue overalls and a New Jack Swing haircut. He’s in good nick and dropped jacking groove after jacking groove, slipping in Gregory Porter’s 1960. He also won the Golden Plains Battle of the Beams with a giant cheesy smile.

On stage banter: “The sun is out! The party is on! I’m going to move to Melbourne!”

Off stage banter: “Loves a fiddle doesn’t he?”

DOWNER: My CommBank tap’n’go card dropped out of my pocket just before his set. But a girl picked it up and handed it back to me. A thousand blessings upon her house.

Four Tet feeling pretty in pink. Picture by Theresa Harrison

FOUR TET

Four Tet. Correction: Phwoaaar Tet. Kieran Hebden humbly took the stage in a pink T-shirt, tickled his machines for a few minutes before hitting us with a bottom-jolting kick drum, into a smoothly crafted set: Planet, Angel Echoes, 2017, (he briefly fluffed the mix #onlyhuman) Scientists into the biggest most anticipated, Boots-up, feet-down moment of the weekend, his Nelly Furtado rework: Only Human. This footage is appropriately sideways.

TFW @FourTet drops his new single in a lush late arvo set at Golden Plains and the hill is heaving. Bellissimo. pic.twitter.com/XsByMdyZDB

— Zan Rowe (@zanrowe) March 11, 2019

On stage banter: Not a word. A few meek, thankful bows.

Off stage banter: “Drop it ya dawg” — two lads in bucket hats.

DOWNER: Confidence Man left a Strongbow Sour aftertaste later on.

BEST INTERSTITIAL DJS

Sara Savage really read the room, playing Out of Space by Prodigy and Brenda by Ara Koufax. DJ Prequel took it up a notch with Let Me Blow Your Mind into OutKast’s riotously sexy She Lives in My Lap then later What’s Your Fantasy feat. Shawnna by Ludakris. That was just before SK Simeon undid all his good work with Marley-Lite reggae. Prequel threw a cold Furphy out to a fan too — man of the people.

On stage banter: “They won’t let me crank it!” — Sara Savage.

Off stage banter: “I don’t get Prequel’s surgical mask but I like it.”

DOWNER: How bad was it when that person sat on the bullant’s nest?

DJ Sara Savage laying down the sickest unexpected jams. Picture by Steve Benn

KHRUNGABIN

Khrungabin looked like The Kransky Sisters trying to Kill Bill while wearing a Black Star dress. They synchronised skolling shots (twice) between jamming out spy-noir funk. It was tonnes of fun, light as a doily when sometimes it needed to go full Sabotage.

On stage banter: “We’re from Houston, Texas … now put your shoes back on.”

Off stage banter: “WOOOOSH” Two confetti canons went off at emotional peaks.

DOWNER: Telling approximately 200 people that Khrungabin would do a hip hop medley in their set like this one and in the end they did two minutes of Apache as the final track. Classic showbiz strategy: leave us wanting more.

HAPPY MONDAYS

Happy Mondays sounded way tighter and together than anyone expected. Roly-poly Shaun Ryder was all chat “This song is 38 years old, let’s see if we can remember it.” Step On, Kinky Afro and 24 Hour Party People did the trick.

On stage banter: “Hello Sydney!”

Off stage banter: “You’re twistin’ my melon man.”

DOWNER: Bez parading around with an upside down Australian flag. Blame the Union Jack.

LATE NITE TUFF GUYS AND GIRLS AKA DJS

Veteran UK dancefloor consultant Danny Krivit played disco that enticed me down front left (my spiritual home) to kick up some dust next to people dressed as giant crabs and a girl dancing in a skirt and bra (which was a strong look all weekend). My ankle held up and actually felt better — not worse — the next morning; the healing powers of Danny the Champion of the World. Also, DJ Harvey didn’t crack the sads this time. Quite the opposite. He dropped tuff house (not the decks) and a Bronski Beat remix that internet explorers are still trying to locate.

On stage banter: ”This looks rather nice.” (that was the subtitle I was getting)

Off stage banter: “This man is giving us a masterclass in how to DJ” — Edd Fisher on Krivit.

DOWNER: Not being able to trainspot many of Krivit’s cuts.

Magic hour in the Supernatural Amphitheatre

OVERHEARD

“Rhye is The Whitest Boy Alive.”

“Feel my pocket.”

“Nice bulge.”

“I don’t think Marlon Williams songs match his hype.”

“Confidence Man needs to be Australia’s next Eurovision entry.”

“Good Liz Phair-eas”

“Hatchie sounds like The Sugarcubes. Sweet.”

“No, Hatchie sounds like The Corrs covering Grimes.”

“Horatio Luna? More like Horatio Doona. I’m off to bed.”

“Gnocch, gnocch”

“Who’s there?”

“Gnocchi.” - Outside the gnocchi vendor

A gold unicorn impersonator does a Shoey. Pic by Theresa Harrison

“I got up, I tried it, I didn’t like it, I’m going back to bed.”

“Ride that LOL-ercoaster.”

“I hope I make the Overheard section.”

“DRMNGNOW is the wokest Golden Plains has ever been.”

“Four Tet likes Boom Boom.”

“Pjenne and Millu’s visuals are a mix of tripped-out Windows 95 and Martha Graham.”

A NEW TRADITION PART 1

“Let your hands be an extension of your heart. Remember that every time you use your hands to touch someone,” Sophie Miles aka Taj Ravi guiding a 5 person mediation on Inspiration Point on Sunday morning.

A NEW TRADITION PART 2

When Prequel dropped Everyone Nose by N.E.R.D a dance-off turned into a Circle Pit. Wild.

LOOSEY GOOSEY

One guy with a green and orange minigolf putter tried to “play through” during Four Tet’s set, shouting “Fore … Tet!

HOUSEKEEPING SONG

1 Thing — Amerie. 25 million people (plus an extra 10,000) can’t be wrong

WORD OF THE FESTIVAL

Louche (adjective) — disreputable or sordid in a rakish or appealing way. “The fast-and-louche approach of Golden Plains attendees.”

Golden Plains 2019 — Teejay Riddler was Best on Sup'.

BEST ON ‘SUP

When Liz Phair copped a freak storm this freak stepped up. He commissioned himself to dance for an hour in the wind despite fat, face-slapping raindrops. And he didn’t let a heckling group of faux-Frunchies (Zinedine Zidane, Marcel Marceau and a baguette-wielding Baker with Ready, Steady Cooked printed on his back) throw him off. Bow down to your new leader, his name is TeeJay Riddler. Riddler-iculous.

Four Tet plays as a golfer yells "Fore … tet!"

BEST ON STAGE

It’s gotta be a tie between Four Tet (“Fore …. tet!”) and Magic Dirt.

Thanks to Aunty Meredith, Ang Henley, Woody, DC, the staff and the 700 vollies who made everything tick over, tickety WOO.

Thanks for Theresa Harrison and Steve Benn’s excellent pictures.

Love,

Mikey

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