Meredith '24

 

 

                          

 

 

Waking up bright and early on Friday morning, my mate and I made our way to Southern Cross Station to catch the train that would whisk us away to the wonderful world of Meredith Music Festival. Catching the site of other obvious festival goers, we nodded in recognition to each other with a bubbling excitement as we made our way to seats. A tingling anticipation flowed through the train as we headed off. 

 

Held on the beautiful lands of the Wadawurrung, this year marks the thirty-second rendition of Meredith Music Festival. Part of the Kulin Nation, the Wadawurrung have been living and caring for these lands for tens of thousands of years.

 

Uncle Barry Gilson, a proud Wadawurrung man, poet and singer, has been performing a Welcome to Country and smoking ceremony at Meredith and its little sister Golden Plains since 2019. As the smell of burning Eucalyptus filled the air, I felt an immense gratitude for the privilege of being able to dance, sing and play on this land.

 

Starting in 1991 as a small backyard festival on the Nolan farm for around 200 people, with tickets costing only a few dollars, Meredith has come a hell of a long way since its inception. However, its ethos of celebrating music, nature and humans coming together and having a “wild time with each other and their environment” remains as strong as ever. 

 

Meredith is renowned for its community spirit, diverse music selection and all-round good vibes. There is truly something magical about the energy that the thousands of partygoers create together. With a strict ‘no dickhead’ policy, Meredith has been able to curate a crowd of people who are truly looking out for each other.

 

The music started off with a bang, with local punk-rock band Frenzee throwing us straight into a high-energy head-banging set. We soared through Mk. Gee’s crowd-pleasing pretty angst, all the way to Glass Beams hypnotic and captivating enchantments.  

 

Taking the primo 1:15am time slot, Princess Superstar gave a disappointingly discombobulated set that missed the mark and fell flat. What me and my friends had all imagined to be a stupidly silly and wild time left us more confused than ecstatic.

 

Mainline Magic Orchestra seemed to be the highlight of the late-night sets amongst those I asked. Three boys from Barcelona clad in bizarre all-white outfits with the most fantastically obnoxious shoulder pads you’ve ever seen delivered a slightly terrifying yet impactful performance, filled with guttural screams, flashing images of the Pope and dirty bass lines that took over your body.

 

Friday took me on a journey through face-melting rock, psychedelic groove, out of touch-pop and filthy house music made by screaming aliens. Feeling a bit of whiplash from the vast array and eccentricity of the performances, I settled in for a night of well-needed rest.

 

On Saturday morning, I awoke to the delightfully fun arrangements of the City of Ballarat Municipal Brass Band. I moseyed my way down to the sup to replenish my body with a hearty meal and the soul-soothing music of Maple Glider. It was a peaceful morning, and the air was filled with the afterglow of Friday night.

 

Only a few hours later were head-butters united for Mannequin Pussy’s raw and rage-filled performance, and the punk-rock band absolutely dominated the crowd. Vocalist Missy Dabice’s enthralling and mighty stage presence was hypnotising, and she enticed the crowd to release their anger with a collective primal scream mid-way through the set, a truly cathartic experience.

 

In the early afternoon, after a rather dreary and grey morning, as the legend Leo Sayer stepped onto the stage, the clouds opened and the sun shone down on the crowd. Sayer delivered a heart-warming and nostalgic set that eased us into the ecstatic mayhem of what Saturday night would eventually become.

 

My favourite set for the festival belonged to Olof Dreijer, the Swedish DJ and producer renowned for being half of the electronic music duo The Knife. Dreijer owned his mid-afternoon spot, penetrating the crowd with a diverse mix of groovy and grimy house music. My friends and I met a wonderful group of Meredith life-goers, all clad in leopard print, and bonded through a fierce twerking circle that left my knees completely wrecked.  The energy was electric and ecstatic.

 

It's moments like that when you meet a random group of people and connect through music and dance that encapsulates what Meredith is all about, as the joy that this festival fosters is truly unparalleled.

 

Saturday’s acts progressed seamlessly from one to the next. Baarka absolutely captivated the crowd with her powerful and epic stage presence whilst Angie McMahon’s poignant vocals inspired a wave of boots to sway above the tops of people’s heads.

 

The highly anticipated act from The Dare did not disappoint. Harrison Patrick Smith gave a high-energy and loose performance that riled up the crowd and thrust us into the late-night festivities with a bang.

 

Saturday night's headliner Jamie xx delivered a masterclass in the dynamics of tension-building, and the euphoric and introspective set just made you want to hug your friends and hold them close. The energy of the crowd was filled with utter joy, and I saw so many people embracing each other during the set.

 

Finally, with legs that felt like jelly, I reluctantly headed off to bed and slept peacefully after a weekend of non-stop dancing and silliness with the people I love. I left the festival with a full heart, an array of new favourite tracks and a slightly broken toe. Not a bad effort, I reckon.

 

Thank you, Aunty. I’ll see you in the ‘Sup again soon.