Lost City festival. It happened. In this bit I could say a lot of things like a multi-day, multi-disciplinary, multiverse, etc.
Music, art and all your friends.
Held in the cavernous Queen’s Theatre, punters flocked to a haven and were treated to local and interstate artists for one delicious weekend. Creative director Brad Cameron and his excellent team, including artists Angela Schilling and Joseph Blackwell, had gosh darn done it again. I was not lucky enough (or ‘finger-on-the-pulse’ enough) to attend the last two Lost City festivals, so heavy with nostalgia for something I wasn’t actually there for (that’s a thing), I trotted on down to see all of my favourite things.
I had decided to take my alter-ego out on the first day, so donning my favourite pink wig, “Jem” had a Lost City adventure.
I had a boogie first thing. With a fistful of fruit loops, bestowed upon me by performance artists/door-greeters Meg Wilson and Ashton Malcolm, I ran to the nook of the beats stage to dance to Woman Trouble with DJ Ang. *Tick*
Next, How Green lulled us in with a steady groove, synth washes and tidy improvised beats. Tequila soon followed.
Onwards to the main stage, boasting an incredible projection display. Hummingbird was beckoning with achey-yearning dream pop. Swoony guitars and palpitating knocks and clicks cradled Elena Nees’ vocals, connecting us with an intimate microcosm within the sizeable venue.
Did you know another name for yabby is ghost shrimp? Neither did I until I just looked it up. I don’t have much to say other than always having a good time watching The Yabbies’ salty jangly rock music. I particularly Harriet Fraser-Barbour’s delightful bashings on her kit.
Chunyin, the side project of Sydney producer/singer Rainbow Chan, commenced with some excellent weirdness rolling into a full scale techno party. A real delight.
Xanga I always go out of my way to see for a good dance. Everyone came a little closer to the stage, feeding off fresh energy for all. Booty-shaking beats and a few whips of the old theremin got everyone hot under the collar.
The Shaolin Afronauts finished off the night in full garb. Parps and flicks of horns and strings, slick as usual, got everyone considerably groovy. Back in the beats cubby, Snake Charmer hosted everyone for one last dance. I had to ask him what his was, I was perhaps over-zealous at this point and gestured to the crowd and said ''Look how many snakes you're charming!''. I may have said bro on the end. Gross. Gross but genuine, I assure you.
After a sleep in, a few degrees warmer, I returned to the cavern. Jem stayed at home, it wasn’t really wig weather. Will Guthrie (Aus/France) thrilled us with high octane drums. Whatever hangover I had was cleansed out of me.
Before I could recover, Joel Stern positioned himself in the middle of the space. Gathered around his peculiar array of noise-makers, triggered by LEDs, we were enveloped in one of the most special moments of the festival.
Sparkspitter, relatively fresh from a national-ish tour, set hearts racing. Twinkling loops and guitar, energising percussion and agile bass warmed the crowd up for headliners My Disco. Sparse yet chest-crunching. The geodesic dome I snuggled under was a fitting habitat for a Lost City dweller, My Disco’s iconic geo-shape visualisation spasming above.
Just when you thought it was all over and you were almost ready to head to La Sing, here cometh Brainbeau. A creepy wail over electronica commanded attention - almost a keen, not quite a scream. Brisbane babes Kat and Chels, whatever you were doing you nailed it. I’m sorry I didn’t see you at Format the other night. Like, I would have really enjoyed that so much.
A guerrilla dance party in the carpark followed, provided by well loved local party technician and generally nice guy Jack Ladd. Onwards to the Ancient World, Brad Cameron and David Apps’ night-hole baby, birthed from the crusts of Lost Cities gone by. Good on you, Appsii, for holding the fort.
I didn't go back to the Lost City on Monday because I was too busy alternating between horizontality and a brief moment of verticality. Kind of have post-FOMO about that.
Thanks Lost City. Thanks everyone. I didn’t take my wristband off until a couple days ago. I didn’t know how. Frankly I don’t want to know.