Splendid! 10/01/2009
 
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Men in blue and their pooches are outside the entrance to Splendour. This could be interesting. My mate Hunter separates from our group. I reach down and pat an approaching labrador.
"Don't touch," says the dog's handler.
Over Splendour weekend the police net about 200 people with illicits. Compared to last year there is a noticeable reduction in munters. Sniffer dogs, plus the $11 price tag on a single Smirnoff, equals a Splendour where the only people to get totally wasted are either minted or in The Happy Mondays.

The rest of us are pleased to learn the price of booze is partly refundable:  VIPs get a dollar back when they return their can. The hoi polloi can exchange empty cans for drink tickets - which explains why I see a couple of well dressed women retrieving empties from bins.
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Fashion this year is laddered black hose under high-waisted shorts, sparkly tops and Ray-Bans for the girls. Batman, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and other superhero outifts make an appearance. Guys sport tight jeans or short shorts and, despite fine weather, keep their shirts on. Gumboots are ubiquitous, but welly-sellers fail to profit this year. Although a downpour worries campers on Friday, it's not until Sunday night in the Tipi Forest that I feel raindrops on my face.

Tipi Forest maintains a feelgood atmosphere throughout the festival. I overhear a couple at Si Clone's set expressing surprise at finding someone so good playing so early. Gravy has the crowd going crazy, as does Captain Kaine (of course). People lose it to Deegs and his go go dancers. Beside Deegs bounces Daniel Webber, fresh from filling the Mix-Up tent, with a beer in one hand and handicam in the other.
 
Yuksek is my favourite from Mix-Up, but I spend most time at Supertop. I don’t have to fight my way through the crowd. Splendour built a clever passageway beside the Supertop sound stage which channels punters direct to the front. From there, I see the The Living End. They’re joined by Grinspoon's Phil Jamieson to cover the absent Jane's Addiction's Jane Says. TLE turn Supertop into one big proud Aussie bogan singalong. It's great. 
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The standout act from Supertop is MGMT. They have no stage presence. They don't interact with the audience. But their harmonies, and lyrics like 'this is our decision / to live fast and die young / we've got the vision / now let's have some fun / yeah it's overwhelming / but what else can we do?/ get jobs in offices and / wake up for the morning commute?' speak directly to my heart.  I don't care that one dude wears a bathrobe and another looks fourteen. I am euphoric.

In stark contrast, The Flaming Lips emerge from the pulsating pussy of a 30ft woman dancing on an LED display. Frontman Wayne Coyne rises through the floor sealed within a plastic ball, waves his arms demanding more cheering, and crawls over the audience. Confetti is shot out and balloons fall from the stage. Dancing frogs and cats flank the musicians, but even my starry-eyed mate Hunter can tell the music is no match for the spectacle. The Flaming Lips are all show and the crowd love it.

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People who don't make it to Splendour are treated to secret shows and sideshows in the local clubs and pubs. Even Powderfinger busk on Jonson street, testing songs from their next album (I heard they made $85). Byron Bay's Splendour Bender lasts an entire week. I can't wait for next year.

See photos of the rockstars in this Flickr set by Josh Feltham.
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