The Falls Festival, established in 1993 in Lorne, Victoria, brought in the New Year on the south coast of Australia like only a festival of said experience could do.
The first night of the festival is now bigger than ever (traditionally just a small portion of the 14,000 patrons are allowed in), thanks largely in part to Basement Jaxx headlining the night (and stealing the show not just for the whole night, but the whole festival).American country-ish singer M. Ward played to the still arriving crowd, to a delighted, if bemused youth looking on asking with their expressions "Isn't this music our parents listen to?"
Their bemused faces were wiped clean as Japanese-Aussie garage punkers Mach Pelican kicked off with Kiwi 60s classic, 'She's A Mod' to a wild crowd.
Michael Franti began his first of two shows at the festival in acoustic mode, which, despite being all well and good, when he returned the 2nd night - in electric mode - he played the exact same set.
Basement Jaxx came on after Franti, being not just the highlight of the first night (and the bane of everybody who arrived on the 2nd night's existence), but by far the highlight of the whole festival.
With half a hill of people (remember, only half capacity on the first night) entranced with the costumes, dancers and a constant barrage of hits including 'Bingo Bango', 'Rendezvous', 'U Don't Know Me', 'Come Back To My Room' and the inescapable danceability of 'Where's Your Head At?', The Falls lived up to its one-time reputation (cemented with acts like Blondie and Iggy Pop bring in the new year in the past).
The second day saw the remaining several-thousand arrive, with Brazilian indie kids Cansei De Ser Sexy kicking off the hot and sweaty big top stage with dancing, and, as their name suggests, sexiness.
The day was filled with a number of okay-but-not-spectacular performances by your standard run of Aussie stars (and a few newbies) including Little Birdy, The Sleepy Jackson and Eskimo Joe while The Audreys (like M. Ward) played kids their parent's music collection back to them.
Blue King Brown were joined by Michael Franti, to the excitement of the kids, which in a way made up for the fairly unexcited crowd for the much hyped Modest Mouse - who now feature former Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr.
The third and final day was reasonably uneventful, save for Charlie Pickering's genius hamming of Tim Rogers during his 30 minute comedy routine (Two fish were in a tank, and one fish says to the other, "I don't know how to drive this thing!" The other fish, who was Tim Rogers said "Can I suck your c*ck?")
The Black Seeds, despite one of the smallest main-stage crowds of the festival, were one of the highlights of the whole weekend, until You Am I took their time-tested pop-rock to the amphitheatre.
It was, however, Wolfmother who owned the stage on the final night, hitting it right on time at 10.40 and drawing out their one album's worth of material until the 11.58, before introducing festival founder Simon Daly to give an unnecessary speech, followed by the countdown.
Wolfmother (thankfully) returned to the stage for one last song featuring Andy Kent, Davey Lane and Tim Rogers of You Am I, covering The Who's 'Baba O'Riley' to a crowd of kids who, despite not seeming to recognize the song, jumped as though their life depended on it.
The festival was a complete success, and despite the obligatory run of festival dickheads (Okay, sometimes I'm guilty of this, but even I don't throw white-hot sparklers into a crowd of thousands - or worse, of which I will not give the honour of a mention here) the atmosphere was fun and friendly and the timetable was impeccably adhered to.
Its lineup might not have the urban-appeal of Splendour in the Grass, and it does leave one pretty big question unanswered (Why did Michael Franti play twice?), but all in all the 14,000 ticket buyers, despite leaving with no money, droopy eyes and heads that felt like pigs were rolling around in the mud that is their brains, still managed to have smiles on their faces, which says a lot for the festival organisers, who year after year pick the bands the kids want to see as though they were still kids themselves.
