Plains of Gold

Despite being one of the members of this family who does actually need both a haircut and a job, I somehow managed to get in on the festival action this Victorian long weekend. With Dom and the parentals off at the Port Fairy Folk Festival, I took the slightly more rock and roll option of heading to "Golden Plains"; the second Meredith Music Festival, held on a dairy farm just outside the country town of the same name. Amongst the dust, gum trees, hard rubbish collection couches, stubbies and friendly folk of the "Meredith Supernatural Ampitheatre", I enjoyed two scorching days of music (often sandwiched between bags of ice in an attempt to keep cool). The genius of this festival is infinite, but the single stage in front of which you can literally "camp out" for the weekend is a highlight. Some had brought along banana lounges, hammocks and sofa beds for this precise purpose (others were simply content to pass out wrapped in a doona at the foot of the stage). You don't miss anything, the crowds are relatively small and tool-free, the line up is generally awesome, there are plenty of sources of amusement around, and you can get a bacon and egg sandwich delivered to your tent by a friendly man in his ute each morning. What more could you want? My favourite acts over the weekend were Swedish cutie Jens Leckman, the funk and soul stylings of Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, Iron and Wine, The Future of the Left and The Vines (who were entertainingly abusive, as is apparently their "style"). Ween were the headliners and although, after a day spent drinking "Bloody Marys" in 38 degree heat, I don't actually remember a lot of their set, I assume I enjoyed it immensely. With 48 straight hours of over stimulation, I am still recovering from what has got the be the best music festival around. Big call I know. I expect a challenge in the form of a full report from Blues Fest attendees in a few weeks time.