It’s that glorious time of year again when the hordes amass on a farm out in rural Victoria for one of the greatest festivals Australia has on offer; the one, the only Golden Plains. The beautiful location that is the Nolan farm is gleaming with anticipation while BYO beers and the turbines from the newly constructed wind farm in the distance keep the punters cool as tents are set up as a place to lie/crash after blood alcohol contaminant levels reach an all time high as your respective favourite band wraps up their set on this bill to end all bills. That's a lie, turbines don't work that way.

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Things officially kick off with the heart-warming opening ceremony where the crowd pays respects to founder Chris Nolan and the fabled 'long blink' goes down. But it is locals Six Ft. Hick that have the honour of kicking off the music and out of the natural confines of a questionable Brisbane pub, the band can still put on a good show even at 2pm. Then things change quite a bit musically as Andras Fox and Oscar Key Sung take the stage for a flirtatious afternoon electronic set, of which is quite good, apart from the fact they are wearing those stupid hats that Pharrell Williams introduced as a method of hiding the scars from his lobotomy. Still, it works.

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With Golden Plains there is literally something for everyone within the program, which creates an all walks of life type of attendees and backstage area. Traditionally though, the electronics of the late night program are confined to well, later at night. But with the rumble of an assortment of 808's Gold Panda is a bloody welcome addition to the arvo and gives things quite a firm kick up the arse. Well seeing as he is from the UK I'll use the adjective bollocks. One thing that is instantly noticeable about his set that he is actually quite talented and has proper tools for the job as opposed to the pro tools as a result of a laptop. Throughout the set he is consistently doing things and by the time he busts out You at the end of the set he has everyone down from the camp site with boots in hand.

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Wandering around the neighbourhood acquiring prizes from the booze bus and taking peoples seats for a spot of relaxation… Attention is quickly diverted to the stage when Adalita begins. Instantly noticeable in comparison to her previous outings to Golden Plains is that she has a far more fleshed out sound as a result of additions to her backing band and the results are… Well, still interesting but more traditional and losing some of the fresh experimental edge and more of a traditional rock band sound coming through. In the end the new tracks on offer mix well with the old and Ad's it is always a bloody pleasure! Having opened the festival only a few years ago, King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard have quite stepped up on the bill in only a few years and if you know the material it is quite interesting as the band venture down long sprawling jams of guitar laced double drum kit psych. The problem is the crowd doesn't necessarily know all and occasionally drifts off and gets distracted by pre-night supply jitters.

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Then we reach Chet Faker, he's been here before too and now he is something else entirely and it is largely boring with zero personality. The problem is that it seems he doesn't know what he is anymore and tries to take the cool hip-young-producer-look at my gear/have sex to my beats approach and it doesn't work as what most people admired was the talent and originality that came from that coveted first EP. Mate, I'll give ya some true blue fair dinky advice, stop hanging around that flavour the month douchebag Flume and go No Diggity yourself another cover for the masses to love. Or go back to what you were good at and learn how to reconnect with your voice and your audience.

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Look, I do write with bias as Yo La Tengo are one of my favourite bands. Everything about them is talent and their discography could have thesis's written on it, so yeah I am pretty bloody excited cramming into the front row on the barricade to finally see the band that have long been on my hit list in one of the best possible locations to do so. The band rush the stage to pick up their instruments and fuck me they kick off with Big Day Coming featuring a deafening synth swallowing everything within the mix whole and most certainly commanding attention. In typical fashion the set does not cater to specific hits or songs it is a bloody mixed bag that one can not help but gawk in admiration at James McNew belting out Stockholm Syndrome, Ira thrashing the shit out of his guitar the whole set. Ohm for the new fans, Sugarcube for the classic festival fans, a heart melting quiet section in the middle (which traditionally would never work in a festival set!) and who could forget Georgia keeping it all together with her drumming and delicate voice holding it all together. Boot worthy in the absolute sense of the tradition and the highlight of the festival.

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Running on endorphins it is a bloody welcome that The Drones are scheduled to play next and as the night gets hazy, the memory of Australia's premier band don't. Unfortunately Mike Noga is away but Christian Strybosch is more than welcome nonetheless. The only real criticism that lies with this set is that after an extensive run of I See Seaweed shows the set comes a tad too predictable Sure, Laika is as powerful as my first experience with it at The Tivoli while the haunting I See Seaweed and accessible How to See Through Fog remain welcome it feels a tad tired. Sharkfin Blues and The Minotaur suffer similar fates as obligatory festival numbers but a cover of Lennon's Well Well Well does pump some much needed mystery into the set. If you have not seen The Drones last few shows then you would have drunk in every moment, though if you had a switch from vodka to gin it might be what you need to power on.

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It is well and truly evening by Charles Bradley and His Extraordinaries take the stage but damn they turn up the temperature hotter than the sun as Bradley owns the amphitheatre with his bellowing pipes. There is simply nothing to fault here as Bradley and his band are well and truly entertaining performers The World is Going Up in Flames is just simply a marvel and the band are talked about throughout the drunken town. I even saw one guy praying to Bradley. Then talk of the electro drunk town was Flying Lotus which most certainly freaked the shit out of some chemically infused punters with his LAYER3 3D like stage show. The bass is deafening and it has everyone around the site going. The future glitch paradise of The Kill is without a doubt a highlight until FlyLo emerges from behind his projections to perform Captain Murphy breakout Mighty Morphin Foreskin which is as equally terrifying as it is orgasmic as FlyLo commands every single second of attention. For the love of christ come back father; I'm not worthy!

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The aesthetics of Jules Verne's A Journey to the Centre of the Earth mirrors the troubles of the Zionist conflict within Jerusalem was not a point of conversation as the festival shifts into late night mode. As it is important to immerse yourself in an event as much as possible I was very much in the mind set of every punter here and was not considering going for a drive to the police station asking if they had any filters. So, I am going to recall facts as well as I remember them. JPS perhaps better known for his work within The Operatives was quite good, his mix felled as if it was current and quite relevant to the festival, my hips gyrated at some point and I was yelling a lot as opposed to talk so it was good. DJ Jnett was not as the allure of a resupply at the tent proved more interesting and despite hearing every minute it seemed as if it was unessential and more filler on the night program. Spacey Space was an appropriate name as a for rent sign within my brain but his set was well executed and he threw in some real interesting funk curve balls into his mix even though I cant remember what they were. But, I would go see him again and you should too.

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I do remember The Silence Wedge quite well - as beautiful as ever and the most engaging to date!

Day 2 coming soon…

Bradley Armstrong