INTO THE MOSH 109: WILDLANDS FESTIVAL PERTH | REVIEW
Words by AJ Mahar.
Bolstered by the success of last year’s lineup that included; RÜFÜS DU SOL, Peggy Gou, G Flip, and The Jungle Giants, Wildlands Festival returned for its third Perth instalment.
The change in venue from last year, located in the heat-prone northern suburbs, provided an opportunity for new trends in headwear. Many afternoon arrivals donning colourful and elegant scarves around their faces, often combined with dark, squared sunglasses. 1960’s film festival chic returned for a 2020’s music festival to contrast the sounds of rising Perth artist Zafty.
Raised voices in the front row brewed excitement in the quickly expanding crowd for Lola Young. Tasked with a dauntingly early slot, the South London singer stepped tentatively around the stage during the opener. Perhaps egged on by the exuberant AUSLAN interpreter to the side of stage, and the audience being informed it was the singer’s birthday, the set started to lift during Big Brown Eyes. The celebratory atmosphere propelled the set through to rowdy, audience fuelled versions of Happy Birthday, and Messy.
With the open-air Sahara stage in full embrace of sun, the oval was sufficiently filled with people (without sufficient sunscreen) for Becky Hill. Basking in the sunshine in a thinly covering lace outfit, Hill ripped through her set in an emphatic race against her thirty-minute time slot. Blasting through pumping bangers like Afterglow and Lose Control like electronic gospel. The headline-worthy energy a reward for those who chose their outfits in time.
While The Wilds stage was packed and pumping ferociously for mid-afternoon, Confidence Man took to the Sahara to maintain their place on the festival circuit. The bopping ballet of singers, Janet Planet and Sugar Bones, finally put the moves on par with the energetic AUSLAN interpreter. Combined with the heat, the latter’s shirt barely made it through the early stages of the set, shedding it during I CAN’T LOSE YOU.
Finally taking a chance to explore the festival grounds beyond the Sahara stage more extensively, the influx of people became apparent; life was flowing at all stages, with a wash of people flowing towards the Summit stage for Barkaa. Like waking up to a flood after a long drought, the mixture of beats from various speakers the crashing water. Eventually floating peacefully back to the mainstage fittingly for Royel Otis.
Despite being the odd ones out on the lineup stylistically, a legion of their fans were out in force especially for their slot, mixing in peacefully with others assembled. The duo and their army spread a fun energy with songs like I Wanna Dance With You, and Sofa King. Before uniting the whole crowd with their Like a Version, the universal banger Murder On The Dancefloor, and the thumping anthem, Oysters In My Pocket.
Going back into the throng of people felt more like a gallop back towards the Summit stage for horsegiirL. Admiring the producers lovely mane and trotting along to her thumping beats at the same time proved somewhat difficult; with the best sonic vantage point being right next to an obscuring tower of speakers. Her slightly eerie Hardcore energising the ballooning afternoon crowd, a spot to move one’s body became ever difficult to find.
A trail of controversy had followed the touring festival in the form of Ice Spice. Late starts and cut off performances left audience members wondering if sleepy Perth town would get caught up. As per the city’s quiet reputation, the rapper made it to the stage on time. Dressed somewhat casually by her standards, a red hoodie and black tracksuit bottoms, Ice gave an enjoyable but unceremonious performance, emphasised by the instant deflation of her trademark stage prop at the end.
As dusk approached, the effects of a day spent largely unshielded from the sun begun to show; raspy barks from predominantly male attendees echoed out with growing frequency, and sunburn begun to form abstract patterns on skin partially covered by meshed and cropped clothing. The furious flow of hard-hitting bass from Chase & Status provide some assistance to block out the burning sensation. For those close to the front of house speakers, and ones perched on the back hill of the oval, sound vibrations acted as pain medication.
For those smart enough to have sought cover, RL Grime packed punch under the tent. The hostile barks from outside taking on a more positive tone during chants of, ‘where’s your head?’ Outside the big top, committed revellers sat reeling on park benches silent, letting the bass swirl around them. Attempting to form a positive bubble with the music.
By the time FISHER took to the closing slot on the Sahara stage, only the congregation closest to the front, and a few isolated ravers on the hill had the energy for slapping beats. Snaking with anticipation, fuelled by the desire of mass human movement and full-frontal audio only lead to a heat exhausted dead end. The people most likely to head to the afterparty at Metro City were congregated at The Wilds stage for Malugi. The inconsistently attended stage had a healthy bunching of people from the barricade towards the middle of the marquee bounds.
Towards the end of the night, further signs of strains from the day appeared. In the stretch of bitumen separating the Sahara and Summit stages, that had been swarming with attendees for most of the day, was suddenly empty. Several small separate groups of security and police stood in conference, while several patrons stood in close proximity. I chose not to look for witnesses. At a music festival, this, combined with a slightly fatigued crowd, can be a sign that it’s time to leave.
While I was not impacted directly, a feeling of dysfunction was present throughout the festival. Navigating through the hordes of people, an at times overwhelming rush between stages, and a somewhat aggressive undertone, made for a frazzling day. In this tough and unknown new climate for music festivals, Wildlands chose to go bigger, without the thought to match.