After countless AJ Maddah tweets, timetable debacles, and speculation of the ‘will it fail or will it rock’ variety, Harvest Festival kicked off its inaugural celebrations on a beautiful day in Melbourne. I wasn’t too sure what to expect when I entered the gates of Werribee Park, having just drove past acres upon acres of muddy farmland, but as I stepped out from amongst the trees, I was greeted by the visual delight of The Great Lawn. A bright green field as far as the eye could see, with thousands of people sitting watching the main stage in what seemed like a festival haven, but I was still skeptical, as it looked too good to be true.

I made my way over to The Big Red Tractor Stage to catch local favourites The Holidays perform their sunny indie pop in weather conditions that were very, very fitting. Forced to start a song again, lead singer Simon Jones quipped ‘you wouldn’t see Portishead doing that’, as they recovered and broke into a collection of songs from their acclaimed album Post Paradise, as well as some first-time-played newbies that sounded equally promising.

As I wandered over to the Windmill Stage, the problems with lines for food and drink was becoming increasingly worse; the lines for drink tokens stood some hundred metres back, but people didn’t seem to mind missing acts for their Gordon’s Gin and Tonic… yet. Ah, The Windmill Stage, the grass isn’t always greener on the other side has never seemed more perfect. Placed in a paddock that I’m pretty sure was 70% cow shit, 30% grass, This Town Needs Gunslet their math rock carve through the over bearing stench and into the ears of the many. Their awkwardly quiet stage banter was endearing, and their technical ability is outstanding, lead guitarist Tim Collis moves across his guitar as though his hands were some sort of musically gifted spiders.

It was time to grit my teeth and line up, as I headed to the food stalls near The Great Lawn. Lining up has never worked so much in my favour. As I lined up for my delicious mini burger, I was able to watch The Family Stone, a band I wouldn’t have watched if not for being in the line. They turned out to be one of the highlights of my day, as they brought some much need funk to the laid back atmosphere, stirring the crowd with hits such as ‘Family Affair’, and ‘Everyday People’.

After getting my mind blown, I was off to see The Walkmen in the smelly paddock. Hamilton Leithause’s rough vocals collided beautifully with the bands melodic surf rock guitar to provided a solid performance for a band that’s vastly underrated, and been on my to-see-list for many years, having finally caught them I can say they definitely don’t disappoint.
One band that did slightly disappoint was TV on the Radio. They are clearly a superior live band, and their opening consisting of ‘Halfway Home’ and ‘Golden Age’ certainly got the crowd moving. However overbearing bass dogged much of the set, taking away from a performance as it drowned out the vocals and made the vibe very murky.

Redemption would come soon after in the form of Bright Eyes, who were my outstanding act of the day. I didn’t know what to expect from Conor Oberst, the indie folk prince appealed to the hearts of the Harvest crowd with his solemn lyrics, but for a man I was expecting to just stand there with his guitar, he offered a lot more. Thrashing his guitar about, making awkward hand signals to coincide with his lyrics, and even some perky banter made this set one to remember. The stripped back ‘Lua’ being the highlight, as the crowd hung onto every word Oberst sang in his haunting quiver.

There must have been something in the water in the artist’s tent, because a chipper Bright Eyes was followed by a buoyant set from The National. Where did all the brooding go!? Matt Berninger hunched over his mic, as the band crooned out a High Violet heavy set. Berninger’s voice, a Rolls-Royce of voices, broke into some unexpected intense screams during songs like ‘Abel’ and ‘Mr. November’, and he even managed to fling himself into the crowd at the end of the set. It was becoming a day full of surprises.

The time came to exploit the gap between The National and Portishead, but everyone seemed to be on the same wavelength and the silliness was about to unfold. The lines began to become a travesty, as stall-by-stall food began to run out, and drinking options became fewer. I’d have to put my hunger on hold if I wanted to experience Portishead.

I’m glad I did, as the mythical band brought a whole new meaning to the word atmosphere. The cinematic, and at times, damn right haunting performance was something punters will remember forever. Lead singer Beth Gibbons enchanted the crowd with her sublime voice as the band glided through all realms of their back catalogue, leaving everyone wanting more in the wake of their aura.

A good spot for The Flaming Lips was a necessity, but as was food. I lined up for the last food outlet that had any food left, the pizza slice stall. It was long, incredibly long, 45 minutes long. The cooks behind the counter putting in one of the performances of the day, feeding all those people with what little pizza they had left. It was biblical in ways.

But enough about my hungry lips, and more about The Flaming Lips. After a stern safety warn about not looking at strobes and not crushing each other, the iconic band took the stage in an array of psychedelic imagery and sounds as Wayne Coyne rolled through the crowd in his space ball. Coyne was as chatty as any frontman I’ve ever seen, sometimes crossing the line between hilarious and vaguely annoying. For all their gimmicks from the iPhone symphony, to the balloon onslaught, to the on screen acid trip, the band can certainly play, as the stand out tracks ‘She Don’t Use Jelly’ and ‘The Yeah Yeah Yeah’ Song went down a treat. However all of that flashy stuff makes them go from a great live band, to an utterly mesmerizing live show, and an unforgettable experience.

I had dreaded the last part of the day, getting a shuttle bus home. I feared, especially seeing the lines throughout the day, that it was going to borderline on insanity, however the festival must be commended as anyone could walk straight onto a bus from the moment they arrived at the shuttle stations. If you look past some rather amateur mistakes in terms of the food and drink lines, and the idea of drink tokens (which I’ll never fully understand), all of which are very forgivable lapses, this was one hell of a festival. The crowd were one of the best I’ve experienced, there was no pushing, no drunken fuckwittery, just people there to enjoy a great range of immense bands at a wonderful venue. Well done Harvest, give yourselves a pat on the back.

Image by Serena Ho.