46. A love letter to Laneway festival
This past weekend, I attended one festival and worked at another so I’ve headed into this work week back on my music-groupie bullshit. Valentine’s Day created musical memories, and no not this kind, the good kind including friends and pure joy. The lack of a romantic partner was barely noticed as in my missing boyfriend’s place, some women were collectively funnier than potentially any man I’ve ever met.
Laneway festival graced Flemington Park last Friday and hosted tens of thousands of people. Festival-goers brought out all the stops for their outfits. Whether it be the casual baggy dark wash jorts and tailored plaid shirt that micro-influencer Brooklyn (@hesbrooklyn on Instagram), dressed by Universal Store themselves, or the leather-clad derrières complete with a Brat-green tee arguably 40% of the crowd was wearing, everyone looked ready to party. Festivals are a hoot; dressing up, having a drink with friends and dancing to live music into the late hours of the night just sounds like the perfect way to spend an annual leave day.
I’m not sure if it was the soft curls of her hair, the nostalgia that came with her overhead headphones or bringing out Charli xcx to perform Sofia with her, but Clairo’s set had the crowd mesmerised. Later in the night, Barry Can’t Swim ironically played during the downpour of rain. The weather forced us audience members to cling to each other, sharing makeshift shelters with strangers while Barry kept the ‘at-least-there’s-great-music-playing’ mood alive and well. Aside from sporting the soaking wet outfit that I spent the better part of two weeks planning, Barry’s music and energy stole my heart.
I know this may sound biased, but Charli xcx’s set was the best of the night without a doubt. With the rain scaring off a few of the people once standing in front of us, we were as close to Charli as we would ever get, dancing shamelessly as if our mascara hadn’t left dark streaks down the sides of our faces. I don’t think I’ve ever had that much fun in a crowd. Let alone, a solo artist demanding that much attention and space on a stage has a presence that I am going to awkwardly describe as the It Factor. But there was nothing awkward about Charli’s performance. Although it may not have represented the Brat summer we intended to have here in Australia, it was a summer night to remember.
