Golden Plains 2024 review – Music brings beautiful love to event’s 16th birthday

A few days out from Golden Plains sweet sixteen, Triple R listeners were texting in advice on how to get through a festival in 38-degree heat. “Take a spray bottle and a handheld fan,” said one. “Soak a cotton scarf in your Esky,” said another. “Drink lots of water,” said everyone’s concerned parents.

150 kilometres west of Golden Plains, punters at Pitch Music & Arts Festival were told their “safest option” was to evacuate the site or delay arrival after the Country Fire Authority warned of extreme fire danger. (The festival was ultimately cancelled.) Golden Plains was going ahead unimpeded, but the hot and blustery conditions would necessitate much individual fortitude and community TLC.

We were welcomed to Wadawurrung Country and reminded to take care of the earth before the piercing decibels of Split System seemed to nudge the temperature past 50. The Melbourne punk band were the first of 15 Australian acts to perform across the two days, accounting for more than 50 per cent of the lineup.

READ: Golden Plains 2025 review – there’s still no place like the Meredith Supernatural Amphitheatre

Golden Plains has built a cult-like following in its sixteen-year history, but this year’s event was not sold out – an aberration given tickets usually disappear within days of release. People speculated this was due to cost of living pressures and the absence of a mega overseas headliner. But from our view, it was one of the strongest Golden Plains lineups in recent years.

Sneaks, a lo-fi post-punk artist with a poetic lyrical bent, was here from Washington D.C. Her mid-afternoon set was an early example of the festival programmers’ knack for plucking acts out of relative obscurity and, by virtue of the festival’s single-stage set-up, introducing them to a receptive audience. The amphitheatre offered little relief from the sun during Sneaks’ time onstage, but a few brave souls were determined to dance with abandon.

As the temperature neared its peak circa 5 PM, MC Daniel James reminded us to drink water and look after each other. Indie rock buzz band Wednesday didn’t let the heat dampen the visceral emotions that course through their latest album, Rat Saw God. Songs from the 2023 release dominated the setlist, twinning woozy shoegaze guitar sounds with country rock lap steel, while Karly Hartzman’s vocal melodies nodded towards The Kinks and Pavement.

“Our country is sending the money that is paying for the bombs,” Hartzman said of the US’s role in the genocide unfolding in the blockaded Gaza Strip. “So, fuck us.” She invited anyone who was feeling helpless about Israel’s campaign of ethnic cleansing to scream along with her during the band’s closing number, “Bull Believer.”

A cloud dragged itself over the sun in time for Zamrock pioneers WITCH, who turned back the clock to perform songs from 1974’s In The Past and invited Sampa the Great onstage for “Avalanche of Love” from last year’s Zango, their first album in 40 years.

“You better buy our new album,” joked the band’s founding frontperson, Emmanuel “Jagari” Chanda. “Or I will have to swim home.” Sampa stayed onstage for the set closer, “Mashed Potato,” joining Jagari and the band’s two backing vocalists in leading the crowd through the funky chicken dance.

RVG got off to a shaky start due to some technical issues, but Romy Vager still yelled with the sort of do-or-die intent that’s made her one of the country’s most commanding frontpeople. Several hundreds of folks flocked to Sunset Strip just prior to 8 PM to cheer along as the sun sank below the horizon. Applauding the sunset is a Meredith/Golden Plains tradition, but this year’s applause was marked by more than a little hostility.

Hotties Eat Rotis, back on site after it was missing from Meredith, delivered with a vegetable satay wrap, while Boris made a mighty racket that divided the crowd. “That didn’t feel like it belonged here,” said someone who thought the Japanese veterans were a bit too metal for Golden Plains. “I loved their commitment to making noise,” said a newly converted fan.

Peace was restored with the arrival of London jazz drummer and bandleader Yussef Dayes, who committed himself to a designer tracksuit, never mind the enduring heat. Dayes led a four-piece ensemble through songs from his 2023 debut album, Black Classical Music, dishing out a slick compound of jazzy improvisation and West African polyrhythmic momentum.

The mercury had dropped below 30 degrees, but spray bottles and hand fans were still getting a workout. Tinnies and sugary cocktails were going down with ease and more than a few pupils had begun to resemble those of a cat who’d just spotted a bird.

Regurgitator last performed in the Meredith Supernatural Amphitheatre more than 20 years ago and they sounded just as they would’ve back then, fusing Metal Zone guitar tones with goofy rapping and lyrical sarcasm.

Maybe it was the reduced heat and the surging serotonin levels, or maybe it was the ‘Gurge’s lack of pretension and evident delight to be performing for 10,000 people three decades into their career, but what could’ve been a cheesy throwback moment was a clear festival highlight.

Regurgitator wasn’t the only act that exceeded expectations. Belgian duo Charlotte Adigéry and Bolis Pupul emphasised the dancier electronic components of their 2022 album, Topical Dancer, and sent dozens of boots flying into the air.

“Why are you holding your shoes up?” asked Adigéry, walking to the front of the stage so that a punter could explain the Golden Plains tradition to her. “It’s for the best act?” she asked, before removing one of her knee-high boots and exclaiming, “Best festival!”

The amphitheatre was not at capacity – many people were having an early night on account of the heat – but the atmosphere was peaking in time for Vv Pete. The Western Sydney MC – in her own words, “An up and coming artist in the music scene” – charmed everyone with her ultra-confident bars and excursions through trap, Jersey club, drill and baile funk. Her mum stood side stage, proud as punch, while Vv’s uncle made a brief cameo. By the end of the 30-minute set, Vv Pete had adopted us as her “Varvies.” 

Soju Gang made a mockery of serious-minded dancefloor gatekeepers during her early AM slot. It was non-stop mashups, with everything from the Baha Men’s “Who Let the Dogs Out” to Tyla’s “Water” and Panic! At the Disco’s “I Write Sins Not Tragedies” getting the Soju Gang treatment. Kia’s prog- and trance-oriented closing set was a refreshing contrast to the cringe subversion that preceded it, taking those still standing through till 5 AM.

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The morning sun made pizza ovens out of our tents, sending large numbers of people back to the amphitheatre in time for Sarah Mary Chadwick. Her deeply felt piano ballads, rooted in gallows humour and psychic distress, were an appropriate analogue to the mass of bodies and brains feeling worse for wear but determined to press on.

As is customary at Golden Plains, Wadawurrung man Uncle Barry Gilson took the stage to share with us just a small part of the local mob’s history. He spoke about the utter decimation of the Wadawurrung population following the arrival of the European settlers in the early 19th century. “We didn’t understand them,” said Uncle Barry. “Why would we? They were murdering us.”

It was a moment to reflect on not just this country’s brutal, genocidal history, but also what an immense privilege it is to attend an event like Golden Plains – a safe space to let loose and connect with 10,000-plus people spanning various age groups, backgrounds, and professional and social persuasions.

I felt like crying, but The Belair Lip Bombs perked us up with their hooky, upbeat indie pop songs. Led by vocalist Maisie Everett, their set was suffused with the enthusiasm of youth and indicated Everett’s got melodies coming out of her ears. 

Mutti Mutti, Yorta Yorta and Nari Nari man Kutcha Edwards made Golden Plains his own. Onstage with an eight-piece band, Kutcha was a singular presence under the early afternoon sun. He spoke of being forcibly taken from his parents at 18 months old, and of having to learn his native tongue from a textbook. 

Before the final song, “We Sing”, Kutcha noted, “There’s a lot going on in the world at the moment. I’m not going to go into it, but just listen to the lyrics.” Kutcha left the stage and joined the crowd in the sun for the song’s final chorus. People encircled him, arms swaying and everyone belting out the lyrics: “We sing for love / We live for justice / We long for freedom / We dream of peace.” Now I was crying.

Elsy Wameyo gave the impression she could excel in just about any field, spitting bars to rival the best contemporary rappers, while also singing with sharp precision. After a session in front of the misting fan, we took shelter under a tree in time for Japan’s DJ Koco. The track list included songs by Skee-Lo, Curtis Mayfield, Rick James, the Jackson 5 and Sade, but the music was only part of the equation. Watching Koco fiddle with the turntables was an enthralling experience in itself – speeding up and slowing down seven-inch vinyls on a whim, but never missing his cues.

Jeff Mills is a god of techno, but for his Tomorrow Comes the Harvest concept, Mills goes searching for transcendence alongside keyboardist Jean-Phi Dary and tabla player Prabhu Edouard. The trio’s hour-long improvisational performance magnified the spiritual exploration that’s always been present in Mills’ DJ sets. “There is no playlist,” said Mills. “We’re just making it up as we go along.”

The amphitheatre was busier than it had been all weekend when King Stingray came on after sunset. Vocalist Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu was wearing his signature wide-brim hat and sunglasses, singing songs in Yolŋu Matha and English. The energy was electric as they put their whole bodies into “Hey Wanhaka” and “Camp Dog” from their 2022 debut album, along with a few new ones.

“Music brings beautiful love,” said guitarist Dimathaya Burarrwanga. He knew this was true – he could see it in the beaming eyes of the audience. “I think this is a gig we’ll remember forever,” said guitarist Roy Kellaway.

The beautiful love was ceaseless from that point onwards. Cymande mightn’t have worn the flared trousers and leather jackets that featured in their 1970s promo pics, but the South London band retained the soul and funk sophistication that cemented them as legends of UK groove music 50 years ago.

The Streets were the festival’s de facto headline act, and there was a palpable sense of excitement in the air as DJ Joey Lightbulb warmed up the crowd. Mike Skinner is an idiosyncratic frontperson, an anti-hero figure who, like a quintessential British male, walked onstage wearing short shorts and a chesty black t-shirt.

It’s more than 20 years since the project’s breakout debut, Original Pirate Material, but Skinner and his four-piece band weren’t averse to taking a trip down memory lane. They began with the album’s opening number, “Turn the Page.” A person in the front row was asked to hold Skinner’s microphone in the song’s latter stages while he opened a bottle of champagne and sprayed it into the audience, Formula 1 style.

Earlier in the night, someone spoke to me about the misogyny present in The Streets’ best-known song, “Fit but You Know It.” “And we’re all just happy to sing along?” they asked. It’s a valid critique, but it didn’t prevent the song from sparking the weekend’s biggest singalong when it appeared near the end of the set.

Skinner’s banter contained a similar mix of hubris and melancholy as his songs. “I was born for this role,” he said of his position as the night’s party usher. Later, he looked into the crowd and commented on the size of the eyeballs staring back at him. “I can tell you’re having a good night,” he said. “Next week is going to fucking suck, but you’re gonna get through it.” It felt like an endorsement to enjoy this night to the fullest.

The name Braxe + Falcon is not as well-known as the work of its two constituents. Alan Braxe worked with Daft Punk’s Thomas Bangalter in the short-lived French house trio Stardust, whose lone single, 1998’s “Music Sounds Better With You,” is one of the defining songs of the era. DJ Falcon also worked with Bangalter, releasing a couple of songs under the name Together in the early 2000s.

Braxe + Falcon mixed an extended version of “Music Sounds Better With You” into Together’s “So Much Love to Give” midway through their 90-minute DJ set, providing a one-two hit of filter house bliss. They threw a curveball just before 3 AM when Le Tigre’s “Deceptacon” came blasting through the speakers – a handy DJ tool if ever there was one.

Manchester DJ and NTS resident Anz took us on a journey through UK bass music, from the ravey excitement of breakbeat hardcore to the soaring tempos of jungle and drum and bass. Her selections gave the subs and speaker stacks a workout, particularly during the late-set D&B barrage.

Sydney DJ Ben Fester was the weekend’s final act. The crowd had thinned out, but those still up – be they dancing on the tinnie-encrusted turf near the stage or reclining on the hillside couches – continued to display the friendliness and warmth that had characterised the whole weekend. One person had stripped down to speedos and crocs, while others sought salvation in the downward-facing dog pose or conjoined with friends to form a group massage circle.

Fester gave us a nourishing mix of deep house, ambient techno and the odd crowd-pleaser, such as Underworld’s “Two Months Off” and the festival’s final song, Billy Idol’s “Eyes Without A Face.”

The sun came up and the temperature was set to climb past 35 degrees again in a few hours, but a sense of calm permeated. As Mike Skinner warned, the week ahead would potentially be very difficult, but we could at least take solace in what another year at Golden Plains had confirmed – that community is what saves us.

Golden Plains Sweet Sixteen took place at the Meredith Supernatural Amphitheatre, Victoria, from Saturday March 9 to Monday March 11.