We could only dream of
experiencing anything resembling the world-famous music festivals like
Coachella, SXSW and Glastonbury. Big Day Out was Auckland’s (smaller) version
of Lollapalooza but it was cancelled once again and we were further deprived of
musical discovery. But thank goodness for Laneway being the “next best thing”.
Laneway is entree-sized
compared to the giant music festivals but it is still satisfies our hunger for
good music. The line up doesn’t have Jay-Z or Arcade Fire as headliners but
instead it has up-and-coming musicians who have played or are set to play at
the renowned festivals. These artists include Banks, St Vincent, FKA Twigs, Mac
Demarco, Jungle, RATKING and Flying Lotus. Laneway takes us to an alternate
universe where the music isn’t played on top-40-radio and the musicians aren’t
interested in fame or money.
Laneway 2015 fell upon a
fiery day where the sun glared at us and we squinted like James Franco in
Pineapple Express. My friends and I prepared for our first Laneway
experience with a Smirnoff lunch while Banks’ Warm Water flowed through the speakers. Time was not one of our
concerns until we realised we might miss Mac Demarco at 3.05pm if we did not hurry.
We sprinted along the crowded Auckland streets and past groups of underage
teens yearning for the Laneway experience. One teenage boy had a Mac Demarco
vinyl under his arm in hopes of meeting the artist outside the barriers.
Through the gates and security, we joined the population of 12 000 as we entered
a land of manbuns, crochet tops, metallic tattoos and avid instagrammers.
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| Mac Demarco (from afar) |
Mac
Demarco, indie-rock’s lovable gap-toothed nutcase, attracted an expansive
audience with his super-chill, ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ vibe. As Mac sung the
opening line of Salad Days, “As I’m
getting older…,” the audience instantly united with him. The ocean of
people moved like gentle waves as they rocked back and forth on Mac’s wobbly,
steel strings. His voice bounced upon the lullaby-like guitar melodies that
glided through the warm air but were occasionally interrupted by belches and
shrieks of ‘wazzup’s .
Unfortunately, being late
meant I was unable to sneak to a good position in the crowd of Mac Demarco fans.
Being only 5ft, it was torturous for me since I was only able to get a quick
glimpse of Mac in a Maggie Simpson t-shirt and a backwards baseball cap if I
jumped high enough. Once I got on a stranger’s shoulders, I watched him play
his Fender guitar as if it was his natural instinct and I was able to finally
witness his trademark, scruffy red vans.
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| deal with it |
In addition to being a
talented musician, Mac is also a skilled performer who knows how to give the
audience a good time. He would introduce
the next song in comical voices including a bellowing grunt of a stereotypical
Canadian-lumberjack. His performance was
a paradox of his comedic personality and his heart-felt songs about dealing
with adulthood, his newfound fame and his father’s drug habits.
Patience is the key to
getting a spot at the front on the metal barriers. I was walking against the
current of people leaving after Mac Demarco’s set in preparation for Jungle who weren’t scheduled to perform
until an hour later. Meanwhile Royal
Blood were on the next stage attacking their electric guitars and the ferocious
vibrations traveled through the bars I rested myself on.
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| Jungle |
At 5.40pm Jungle’s seven members streamed onto the stage and were ready to cascade their energetic electronic-neo-soul-funk music upon the sweating audience. The audience increased the total millilitres of perspiration as they jigged to Jungle’s groove. I was surprised to learn four voices of the seven members create the one, distinct voice of Jungle. Jungle personifies electronic music with live instruments (including conga drums!) instead of simply using a laptop, drum pad and synths like most electronic acts. They practice imaginative, quirky ways to create unique sounds and incorporate them in their music; glass coke bottles dangled as clanking chimes for the Heat. They took us on an island holiday with The Heat and Crumbler but their re-occurring sirens reminded us of our current surroundings – the urban jungle of Auckland.
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| Spot Maggie Simpson |
Laneway organisers had
underestimated the reception for Banks
as they placed her on a shoebox stage in an area with limited capacity (around
300-400 people). We squeezed into the
200 square feet enclosure like battery hens. Luckily I was able shimmy myself
to the second row – behind two girls who I soon discovered did not know Banks’
music. To be honest, I was not that
excited to see Banks because I had seen youtube videos of Banks’ live
performances and I cringed at her unsuccessful attempts to be sexy. But boy,
Banks made me swallow my words.
I was astonished and
impressed when she swaggered on stage with a radiation of sultry poise. I was
in complete admiration of her confidence while she prowled around the stage like a panther disguised as a 21st century femme fatale. But she
broke out of her trance after she finished her opening song, Alibi, when a lasting explosion of
applause and love occurred in front of her. She thanked us with watery eyes as
she was genuinely grateful and shocked by our response to her music.
The two girls in front of
me had blank expressions cemented on their faces throughout the whole show,
which frustrated me. The relationship between a musician and the audience is a
two way street. The performer feeds off
the energy of the audience and vice versa. When a performer gives you their
heart and soul, it is rude to not to reciprocate their efforts – especially if
you are at the front where the performer can clearly see you. It’s completely
discouraging for the performer when they see you looking bored. It was also
unfair for Banks’ true fans that weren’t able to see the show because these
ungrateful posers took the front row where a Banks fan could have been.
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| Banks |
On the other hand, there
was a plump, sunburnt giant standing front and center with the best view of the
stage. He sported a Banks merchandise baseball cap while his Samsung galaxy
wore a Banks phone case. Every time I looked to him, he was mouthing every
lyric to Banks just incase she forgot them. Although he blocked everyone’s view
that stood behind him, he deserved his spot since he was clearly one of Banks’
most devoted fans.
Banks’ performance was an
emotional expedition as she painlessly morphed between states of vulnerability
and power. One second, she would sing as sweet as an innocent, pleading child.
The next second, her voice would turn to venom while flicking up her middle
finger in tribute of her ex-lovers. Banks
bequeathed us her divinity as she gave assurance; “Every single one of you is a fucking goddess.” After she left the
stage, her confidence remained amongst the audience as people seized her empowering
words.
 |
| FKA Twigs |
As nighttime arrived,
people gravitated towards the stage where FKA twigs would be exhibiting an
out-of-this-world experience. The
allure of FKA twigs is unexplainable since her music lacks catchiness and
excitement but somehow the minimalistic electronic sounds still capture the
audience. This time I didn’t bother with sneaking to the front and instead I
climbed the scaffolding located 100ft away from the stage. FKA
twigs is known for her whimsical staging aesthetic and I decided to watch her performance
as an entire painting. A creature
floated through the smoky light like a silhouette puppet moving her twig-like
limbs in unnatural ways. FKA twigs’
swollen braids accentuated the size of her skull and created an illusion of an
alien figure like The Fifth Element’s
Diva Plavalaguna. I felt I was watching the scene in The Fifth Element where Diva receives a standing ovation for her melancholic-yet-electrifying
opera performance.
Despite my respect for
FKA twigs as a musician, producer and performer, I became bored with her performance
as her slow-tempo songs blurred together with staleness. The most interesting
part during the performance was meeting this young woman (I forgot her name)
who was ranting about white privilege because a group of white teenage girls
pulled her hair and took her spot in the FKA twigs mosh pit. FKA twigs
overlapped with RATKING’s set and I now wish I had split my time between those
acts. I admire RATKING’s abrasive
version of New York hip-hop but I missed my opportunity to see them and now I
can only imagine the ruckus of a RATKING performance.
The end of my first
laneway experience came hastily with a taste of Flying Lotus and a bite of St
Vincent. I enjoy Flying Lotus’ music but I have prejudices against DJ
performances since most of them just play music off their laptop, turn a few
dials, slide a couple of nobs. I tried
to give Flying Lotus a chance to impress me but he proved I was right about the
limpness of a DJ performance as he simply played his electronic music against a
flashy lightshow. He would occasionally interact with the audience with forced small
talk such as “Are you guys having fun?”
After 10 minutes I left the field of party animals raving to videogame sound
effects and preceded towards St Vincent.
St Vincent’s
industrial-art-rock exuded a force of vibrancy and futurism with blasts of 80s
synths mimicking the dialogue of computers.
She executed her music with robotic, glitchy eye blinks and head turns
while her fingers raced along the guitar neck like she was programed to do so. I
bet she was hiding her electric wires underneath her translucent skin and
pleather Chinese qipao dress. St Vincent
demonstrated that female guitarists shouldn’t be overlooked while her baffling
guitar solos trembled with intensity and aggressiveness like 70s punk rock. I
reckon St Vincent is more gifted and talented than most male guitarists I’ve
seen in concert. It is always inspiring to watch a musician play technically
complex music because it makes you think, “How
can they play that?! Damn, I wish I could play like that!” St Vincent,
please teach me.
By the end of the night,
Laneway had become a landfill of plastic cups and unfulfilled
expectations. I had anticipated more
than what I received from the Laneway performers and organisers but some
performers exceeded my expectations such as Mac Demarco, Banks and St Vincent.
I was mainly frustrated with the overlapping performances as I was unable to
see my some of my favourite musicians (e.g RATKING). My first laneway experience was alright – it
wasn’t terrible but it wasn’t great. I departed feeling satisfied but with a
craving to watch and absorb more live creativity.
See you next year,
Laneway, but please better yourself in the meantime.
- freak out
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