Words by AJ Mahar.

Photography by Chloe Mathias.

After a nervous year for the Australian festival scene, Spin Off came as a sigh of relief for thousands of Adelaide punters braving the severe weather warning. My companion and I dared to incorporate lace into our outfits, hoping our respective layers of black leather, and pink corduroy and ripped denim would fend off the cold.

Those who braved the dreary morning were rewarded with contest winners Puree, and the charged Hip-Hop stylings of Miss Kaninna. Bringing thousands of years of culture to pounding modern sounds, addressing far too many years of injustice. Her fire and passion beckoned attendees closer to the stage, engrossed by her message. 

Rum Jungle followed on with a rough but more than ready set; competent, but pleasantly loose. The irresistible bop of the music overcame lead singer Benny McIntyre, before spreading to the audience. Their joy visible throughout, especially during an intimate moment between bassist Michael Kolmajer and his bright red instrument. 

Despite an energised set and a hardy singalong from the growing crowd huddling in ever closer, not even that could break a sweat on Old Mervs. Placed what seemed an eternity away from each other, the duo got bodies on shoulders in a tight catchy set. Making up for the distance between the two. 

In between them and the calm of Michael Macagi, we found an area that at the very least had designated itself as the smoker’s area. In conversations with fellow festival goers, I felt a sense of comfort in the gender naturality of the term ‘girly’. My red lipstick, still thoroughly intact at this point, approved. By the end of the day, lines for the toilet would render the men’s room gender neutral.

Growing crowd intensity was noticeable by the increased challenge of slithering towards the stage. After the suspense of Prelude To Ecstasy, The Last Dinner Party appeared. Burning the audience alive with dramatic presence and ominous but angelic harmonies. The latter bolstered once again by the audience. Lead singer Abigail Morris used all parts of the stage and below it with great command; like an emperor with a city to burn. Returning to the stage from the crowd at one point with a crucifix and pride flag exerted ambiguous power that could leave one questioning themselves. 

Even with the fire and passion of The Last Dinner Party, the healthy hype of Baby Gravy that followed, and the ever-tight bunching of the crowd, a chill still hung in the pavilion; not a sweat had been broken so far on any of the performers, no matter how energetic. It was taking great strength for me and my companion to survive in our lace. Knowing we looked good, and huddling together with equally stylish and beautiful people was the only warmth.

A stripper pole being dragged onto the stage at this particular event could only mean the impending arrival of one person; eventually, in a glow of her trademark pink, Peach PRC appeared on stage. Living up to her blunt bubbliness, with playful and seductive dance moves, including the use of that pole, most if not all in attendance were at least a little turned on. The unveiling of the lesbian flag was greeted with love and acceptance by all. Humorous, but irresistible, singalongs of Josh, Kinda Famous, and the valid point of God Is A Freak, bonded us two with several strangers in the crowd. We planned to meet later.

The chants of ‘Conan!’ must’ve led some to give up on the wait, and for good reason. The still chilly conditions did not stop Conan Gray from gracefully strutting the stage in his studded leather outfit, another one braving the cold for the freedom of showing skin. His cheeky and beaming presence, along with his grand and swaggering motions, provoked some impressive hysteria from the audience. It was also nice to see yet another doll like boy like myself, but this time on stage.

In a moment of quiet, my companion and I attempted to rendezvous with the strangers we had acquainted with at Peach. We tried our best to wait, but the beaming energy of G Flip was simply too strong. All it took was the thunderous drums of Rough to draw us back to the stage, with G Flip commanding a row of floor toms flanked either side by a fellow stick holder. Making their way to the full kit, fills effortlessly rolled while their voice floated above. Going between drums, guitar and bouncing around, all accompanied by singing had almost the quality of a variety show. I could almost imagine them juggling drum sticks during a solo.

The time between acts dedicated solely to pushing our way to the best vantage point possible, settling into a close spot towards centre stage. A large number of people congregated were donning loose neckties and untucked business shirts in the style of the impending performer. 

Marie Ringheim aka Girl In Red appeared on stage with her business shirt and loose tie covered by a green Adidas style jacket. Our charge to the front was rewarded, as the crowd drowned out the singer furiously belting Bad Idea, the pain of relatability audible. Near constant flashing lights, and Ringheim’s furious running and thrashing about the stage somehow turn all conceivable emotions into pure joy. An environment where people could connect over bottled up feelings, and lyrics that sum them up perfectly. Culminating in one of her now trademark crowdsurf’s during a segue of You Stupid Bitch into Serotonin. i wanna be your girlfriend closed the show out with a final chance to get up close and personal. Unfamiliar with a circle pit as Ringheim tried to coordinate, the audience parted in Red Sea style for her to make a sprint down the centre of the crowd. 

Punters filing out were almost a metaphor for all the queer angst unloaded during the day’s performances. We might’ve all been cold and tired with smudged lipstick, but we were all ourselves. And were welcome to be ourselves.