Live Review: Drunken Moon Festival

Walking into the bandroom is like entering a rustic realm of its own. There are fedoras, cowboy hats, flannels and beards aplenty – a stark contrast from the post-footy punters upstairs sporting their yellow and black (rather gloomingly, may I add). Tonight, these avid music fans have flocked from all across the country for the first ever Drunken Moon Festival, a celebration of the underground country, folk and blues movement. It's a scene that's been bubbling below the surface for quite some time, and if tonight is anything to go by, a scene with a fierce allegiance. Frank Sultana & The Sinister Kids take the 'Back Porch' stage located just in front of the merch booth and open with a frolicking, foot-stomping tune. Backing vocalist Jessy Wadeson completes the group with smooth vocals (and is a knockout in a red dress) while Frank Sultana is at ease onstage. They're the first of all bands to praise the mastermind of the event, James Grim, before coaxing some eager 7pm movers and shakers to the front for a boogie.

The crowd shuffle over to the considerably larger 'Front Porch' stage for Sydneysiders Papa Pilko & The Binrats. Frontman Cyrus Pilko is cowboy-clad and honky-tonk ready as he swings his belt in the air like a whip, struts around the stage, and charms with a mix of Aussie and southern lilt, suggesting, “It's the Drunken Moon Festival so yer better get yerself sauced at the bar!” Theatrics aside, the seven-strong band (complete with horn section) raise the stakes early in the night, peaking with the smooth I Demand Satisfaction before ending with the Muddy Waters classic, I Can't Be Satisfied. Gruntbucket have us shaking off the Pilko/Mississippi blues in no time with their garage-rock set. While the theme of the night is centered around folk, country and blues, the crowd welcomes the heavy change, with a few eager heads moshing their way to the front of the stage.

Little Bastard hit up the Front Porch and blaze through one manic, exhilarating, barnyard-hoedown of a set. The denim, sleek tees, baseball caps and flannels are at variance with the vintage instruments they play; a factor that doesn't deter but rather adds to their young and eccentric charm. Nearly all members lend a hand at singing yet, when they're not, they dance and laugh and just have a fucking good time doing what they do. The crowd mirrors their vibe and before you know it, they're done.  We make a mental note to keep an eye out for their next show. 

Our routine saunter to the neighbouring stage becomes quite the journey as we try our best to dodge the drinks being flung about. The room swells with bodies as more bearded fellas and rockabilly ladies trickle in just in time for the stellar surfabilly duo, Mother & Son. The seasoned performers serve a mix of swamp rock, blues and an overall Tom Waits/The Black Keys vibe that has everyone onside. Bodie Jarman's vocals are pebbly and raw without missing a note and by the end the crowd claim them as their own.

There are some bands you never tire of seeing live, and Kira Puru & The Bruise are definitely one of them. The Sydneysiders are regulars to Melbourne haunts such as the Old Bar (as are many of the bands on the bill tonight). While the band pound through a set of threatening, heavy rock, Puru is in her element, channeling her fierce onstage persona through threatening glares and a huge vocal range. You'd never mess with her, nor can you look away. Her mighty presence lingers about the room well after she leaves. We dance our way to the Back Porch one last time for Midnight Woolf, whose drummer sets a promising first impression with a Sonny & The Sunsets tee. The local rockers churn out a set of heavy, sweaty fun, with Jarman and Pilko (among many) dancing up a storm while the guitarist kicks over the cymbal in elation.

Fronted by James Grim, Brothers Grim is the final act to round up what's been a wild journey. The band deviates from the norm and enters a world of horror-rock, nailing the set from start to finish. Grim looks ready to pounce as he shakes and intently eyeballs the crowd yet, between songs, his banter is warm and grateful. When he isn't thanking bands, he covers everything from “beautiful woman”, a tribute to his recently deceased cat, to fetishes about high-heel pumps. At the request of an audience member, they end with the crowd favourite Dirty Dog, with Grim spitting and growling each lyric with feverish intent. While this new wave of rockin' country-folk and blues may still be small, the ecstatic crowd proves exactly why these bands are of great importance in Melbourne's ever-changing music landscape.