This year’s Big Day Out – always a good teaser for individual performance – was an okay affair, with fashion seemingly as important as music and plenty of sunburn and Aussie flags to go around.
Mobile phones were ubiquitous, but the coverage was poor, saving us from those ever-exciting conversations along the lines of, “We’re near the big tree …. no, the tree …. you know, sorta near the stage ….” And there was security aplenty, which is a good thing given the drunk sweaty dudes, including the charming lad who enjoyed the heat of the Boiler Room so much he had to insult the “dykes” around him. Happy Australia Day to you too.
The Boiler Room, home to last year’s cracker of a performance by Lupe Fiasco, was again the place to be, with Itchee & Scratchee pleasing with ‘Sweetness & Light’ and the Midnight Juggernauts – whose singer seemed to be wearing a crown of thorns – undertaking the unenviable task of following Girltalk, one of the most hyped performances of the day. Surely Girltalk is the only performer around able to get sweet Gen Y gents to scream Kelly Clarkson at the top of their lungs. Throughout the energetic and patchy set, which featured Missy Elliott, Bruce Springstein, Lady GaGa, Daft Punk and Michael Jackson, Girltalk had a host of people dancing on stage (and, inexplicably, one woman releasing toilet paper through a dispenser onto the crowd). It was enormously fun, even if you’re sceptical about his contribution to the world of music, and ended with John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’, prompting one fan to explain to her friend that it was “The Beatles”.
Across to the expletive-laden set of UK’s Dizzee Rascal. Full of energy and machismo, Dizzee led a familiar chant at the main stage: “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi,oi, oi”. Now a biggish name, the performance seemed to be held back by the venue (likely better in the Boiler Room, or an individual arena), but the pop-ish songs, ‘Holiday’ and ‘Bonkers’, were indeed fun.
But hey, the ladies in particular were waiting for another Brit darling to make an appearance, particularly one punter who was seen sporting a “I’m here to have sex with Lily Allen” T-shirt. The diminutive star came out emblazoned in the Australian flag, a cig in her mouth, and a strut that would make Mick Jagger proud. Great haircut too, although things got a little dishelleved in the afternoon sun. Lily’s strengths, in my view, are her funny lyrics and down-to-earth charm; her notoriously patchy voice held up surprisingly well, particularly in a decent cover of the vintage ‘Just Be Good to Me’. The country music lament,’Not fair’, was a crowd-pleaser.
