This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/culture/australia-culture-blog/2014/mar/02/future-music-festival-review
The article has changed 3 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
| Version 1 | Version 2 |
|---|---|
| Future Music Festival – review | Future Music Festival – review |
| (2 months later) | |
| This year it’s the fate of French rock band Phoenix and Melbourne’s Cut Copy on the Safari stage to suffer the indignity of scant support while their more popular dance brethren are tearing the place apart. | |
| We don’t manage to catch Phoenix – unable to drag our eyes away from the hypnotic sight of Canadian electronic wizard Deadmau5 in full effect on the Future Music stage – but we do, however manage to see Cut Copy play out their watered-down New Order to a dwindling troupe of devotees before taking recourse in the zoned-out trance of original German techno pioneer Sven Väth at the Cocoon stage: a weird little spot that feels like a railway platform right in front of the teeming crowds of punters attempting to gain access to the popular inside arena, Knife Party’s Haunted House. Cut Copy claim to be Australian electronica, but this feels like pure Spike Island 1990 to us. Take it from one who were there. And it doesn’t feel right at all: not when Hardwell is pulsing out teeth-rattling bass and wielding a confetti cannon, not when Knife Party (remember the Flying Lizards-esque Internet Friends?) are perched high up in their DJ booth, lords of all they survey –flame and light and the occasional jarring rhythm. | We don’t manage to catch Phoenix – unable to drag our eyes away from the hypnotic sight of Canadian electronic wizard Deadmau5 in full effect on the Future Music stage – but we do, however manage to see Cut Copy play out their watered-down New Order to a dwindling troupe of devotees before taking recourse in the zoned-out trance of original German techno pioneer Sven Väth at the Cocoon stage: a weird little spot that feels like a railway platform right in front of the teeming crowds of punters attempting to gain access to the popular inside arena, Knife Party’s Haunted House. Cut Copy claim to be Australian electronica, but this feels like pure Spike Island 1990 to us. Take it from one who were there. And it doesn’t feel right at all: not when Hardwell is pulsing out teeth-rattling bass and wielding a confetti cannon, not when Knife Party (remember the Flying Lizards-esque Internet Friends?) are perched high up in their DJ booth, lords of all they survey –flame and light and the occasional jarring rhythm. |
| Future Music is definitely a male province: from the acts themselves to the topless lads swaggering through the showgrounds, brushing muscles and tats outdone only by their sunburned pecs. The de rigeur uniform of the day for women, meanwhile, is cut-off jeans (or, preferably, faux leather shorts) with halter necks, and when the crowd cameras focus in on the audience – which they do relentlessly on the main (Future Music) stage – it is invariably to rest upon yet another girl shaking her stuff on her bloke’s shoulders. | |
| Into all of this unashamed testosterone, the presence of Macklemore & Ryan Lewis comes as a welcome relief. Some claim that the Seattle-based former addict Macklemore is the biggest rapper in the world right now: it ain’t hard to see why, though perhaps surprising. Awesome showmanship and a jazz-inflected brass section and dancers tight enough to give the illusion of being crazily loose, coupled with a righteous social conscience that manifests itself in numbers like the inspirational Same Love (dedicated today to the Australian government in the hope that it will legitimise gay marriage) and the wickedly sussed Thrift Shop. | Into all of this unashamed testosterone, the presence of Macklemore & Ryan Lewis comes as a welcome relief. Some claim that the Seattle-based former addict Macklemore is the biggest rapper in the world right now: it ain’t hard to see why, though perhaps surprising. Awesome showmanship and a jazz-inflected brass section and dancers tight enough to give the illusion of being crazily loose, coupled with a righteous social conscience that manifests itself in numbers like the inspirational Same Love (dedicated today to the Australian government in the hope that it will legitimise gay marriage) and the wickedly sussed Thrift Shop. |
| He says we are the best-looking people in the world, us living right here in Brisbane … and you know what? We believe him. | He says we are the best-looking people in the world, us living right here in Brisbane … and you know what? We believe him. |
| The only real surprise is why Macklemore is on so early – 5.15, and the sun ain’t even gone down yet. | The only real surprise is why Macklemore is on so early – 5.15, and the sun ain’t even gone down yet. |
| Eric Prydz is – for us, at least – a bit of a revelation. Known primarily in the mainstream for the rather nauseous hyper-sexualisation of women working out in the video to Call On Me, live he’s nothing like that. Instead, we get a good solid hour of prime EDM from the Swedish DJ/producer, with some stunning lasers to match: sometimes, they seem to cover the pulsating crowd like a fluorescent green security blanket. Each time the music can’t become more ecstatic he ramps it up a step, seamless. | Eric Prydz is – for us, at least – a bit of a revelation. Known primarily in the mainstream for the rather nauseous hyper-sexualisation of women working out in the video to Call On Me, live he’s nothing like that. Instead, we get a good solid hour of prime EDM from the Swedish DJ/producer, with some stunning lasers to match: sometimes, they seem to cover the pulsating crowd like a fluorescent green security blanket. Each time the music can’t become more ecstatic he ramps it up a step, seamless. |
| The night belongs to the progressive house of Deadmau5, though. He begins downbeat and almost quiet, like we’re going through a collective comedown following Hardwell’s elated set. The beats are weirdly unsettling and constantly surprising, shifting, the word INFERNUS folding and unfolding across the stage into fiery satanic patterns; his eerie Mouse-like mask with its crosses for eyes and grotesquely distorted ears leering out at us. For 30 minutes or so, we’re kept tantalised, on the verge of euphoria – even as the computer-generated visuals mesmerise in their continuous flow between iconographic imagery (sea monkey ads, Pinball Wizard arcades, racing cars) and the abstract and free-willed (a roving snake, 3-D smoke effects billowing out into the audience). | The night belongs to the progressive house of Deadmau5, though. He begins downbeat and almost quiet, like we’re going through a collective comedown following Hardwell’s elated set. The beats are weirdly unsettling and constantly surprising, shifting, the word INFERNUS folding and unfolding across the stage into fiery satanic patterns; his eerie Mouse-like mask with its crosses for eyes and grotesquely distorted ears leering out at us. For 30 minutes or so, we’re kept tantalised, on the verge of euphoria – even as the computer-generated visuals mesmerise in their continuous flow between iconographic imagery (sea monkey ads, Pinball Wizard arcades, racing cars) and the abstract and free-willed (a roving snake, 3-D smoke effects billowing out into the audience). |
| By the time Joel Thomas Zimmerman has removed his mask, and the crowd-churning The Longest Road starts up – punctuated with an occasional well-placed FUCK to up the tempo – it feels like he’s punched a hole through the firmament and is dragging us through the other side, such is the relentless variety and kaleidoscopic beauty of the visuals and trance-inducing beats. | By the time Joel Thomas Zimmerman has removed his mask, and the crowd-churning The Longest Road starts up – punctuated with an occasional well-placed FUCK to up the tempo – it feels like he’s punched a hole through the firmament and is dragging us through the other side, such is the relentless variety and kaleidoscopic beauty of the visuals and trance-inducing beats. |
| Spellbinding. | Spellbinding. |