"Crap! How did we miss Pete & His Circus Dogs featuring Lou Lou the "semi-retired" 16-year-old poodle in the Kids Quarter?"
While wandering past La Salle A Manger on Hesse Street, a distant rendition of Dancing In The Moonlight wafts across on the breeze from a distant beer garden. This whole town truly comes alive for the entire weekend with the action stretching way beyond this festival's barriers; tents are pitched in front gardens and even the local Vinnies has a music-themed window display.
Once inside the spectacular foreshore site, decisions must be made. First food of the festival? Okonomiyaki. Then we check out Morgan Bain on Glaneuse Stage. He tells us the drummer learnt these songs in one rehearsal, a long one with just a single pizza break. Bain on keys is crazy-good and this promising WA outfit close with Lift You Up.
DJ Vince Peach usually spins sweet, sweet Soul In The Basement but this year his services are required in QMF's Ozone Lounge. We're tempted to stay for a dance, but must catch Harts, who's bringing the funk on Hippos Stage. His guitar is all Paisley Park-inspired decollage and he's accompanied by drummer Manny Bourakis only. The front row punters resemble extras from Puberty Blues. Is Harts like Prince? Fuck, yeah. The fact that Red & Blue (a standout track) combine to make purple is no coincidence. Here's a tip, if Harts ever asks, "Can I play my guitar for a little bit?" the answer should always be a resounding yes. And he'll probably play it behind his head then do a 180-degree turn so you can get a closer look at his fingering. They close with Purple Haze, which reminds us of one of our favourite misheard lyrics of all time ("'Scuse me while I kiss this guy" in lieu of "...the sky").
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Lightbulb moment: Portaloos need handles on the inside for an easier squat (you do not wanna lose your balance and sit on these seats!)
Back over on Glaneuse Stage, 19-Twenty sing a song about "big love" that takes us back to the recent Fleetwood Mac concert at Geelong's Mt Duneed Estate during which Lindsey Buckingham sang his song of the same name. Does this song suffer by comparison? Of course. A nearby punter is heard asking his posse, "When does the DJ dude start?" (Yep, Vince Peach wins Queenscliff.) John Gwilliam's double bass shenanigans are a hoot and their gently goading banter entertains, but then the frontman says "intepretate". Time to go check out Hippos.
The Snowdroppers never disappoint and lead singer Jeremy Davidson (aka Johnny Wishbone) should work on something with Jack White. He praises the parents in the room before introducing Devil Child. Then they bravely play a segment of Tusk, which exposes the guitarist horribly given our recent memories of Buckingham's plectrum-less majesty. To the bespectacled dude dancing to The Snowdroppers, while wearing The Snowdroppers T-shirt midway back in the centre of the front section: you rule. Davidson really does slip into character as frontman (did he go to NIDA or something?) and he enjoys burping loudly into the mic. The band's drummer Cougar Jones really is excellent as well.
It's back to Glaneuse and The California Honeydrops frontman Lech Wierzynski looks like something off Welcome Back, Kotter in that jaunty, red, puffy cap. Their keys player Lorenzo Loera is a dead ringer for Arj Barker. Nearby, someone with an Italian accent announces Loera is "so retro". The entire audience is having a wow of a time, that is until a gentleman struts over from about five metres away and informs us we must stop talking. Sorry, dude, didn't realise this was Library Stage. Then our 'mate' struts over to shush us again! Refusing to let our spirits be dampened by the sound police, we're still socialising long after the music stops and the crowd disperses. A security guard reminds us the event is actually over for the day and we make our way up the hill toward sleeping bags and zeds.
People hang in their front yards just to say 'g'day' to the passing parade as we make the pilgrimage past the Queenscliff Bowling, Tennis & Croquet Club and down towards the festival sire on the sea. Robert Forster brings a civilised air to Lighthouse Stage and a violinist compounds the elegance. A very experienced storyteller performer, Forster eases our eardrums into the day.
Over on Hippos Stage Thomas Oliver has been scratched and Hey Frankie take the stage in his place. These kinds of unexpected scheduling changes can really mess with one's internal compass so it's time to consult the timetable. We decide to head back up the Hesse Street hill and are rewarded upon arrival at Vue Grand Hotel, where they're selling Bloody Marys. Ainslie Wills is a further drawcard to this hotel, which boasts "the best view in Queenscliff" from its rooftop bar. Wills is glorious and those vocal harmonies transcend. She tells us the band has already sampled "Australia's best pie" from Rolling Pin Pies & Cakes and her keyboardist vouches for the lamingtons there also. This music is swirling and captivating. Wills' voice is a gift; Constellations is airy and marvellous. Then they even include So Soldier (#1 Dads song) sans Tom Iansek within the set and we're ever so glad we came.
When did performing in socked feet become a thing? We walk past a busker with one sock on, the other barefoot and then Olly Friend performs in a pair of pale grey socks (plus rest of outfit, obviously) at Queenscliff Inn. He's a bit of a dreamboat to watch and Shoulders is beautiful. Friend asks for a show of hands to determine how many people are here because of the flyers he had made (for $12, he reckons), then comes to the conclusion that "advertising works" when about ten punters raise hands.
Gotta head back through the festival gates to see the band that beat Gold Class to Best Emerging Artist at The Age Music Victoria Awards. We park it in front of Glaneuse Stage for Raised By Eagles. Their first song is lacklustre, but we're ready to party so head over to Lighthouse Stage just in time for John Williamson's stirring rendition of True Blue ("Is it mum and dad?/Is it a cockatoo?").
This year's QMF line-up features a healthy New Zealand contingent. On Hippos Stage, Hollie Smith's image is deceiving: boyfriend jeans with ripped knees, white singlet, heavy makeup and messy blonde topknot (plus two long, loose plaits) provide no hints as to the type of artist she is. Her diva pipes are Whitney Houston-esque and it's a real treat to hear her extraordinary vocal control, which sees one note held for an impossible amount of time before Smith shows off and adds a little vibrato to finish.
Next up on this stage, it doesn't get any more chill than Trinity Roots. As soon as we sit down we feel weary, though, so up and at 'em and over to Blue Eyes Cry on Glaneuse. Guitarist Nathan Brett is in a trance, barely opening his eyes throughout their set, but the sounds he coaxes from the instrument certainly are impressive.
Having bands play multiple times at different venues across the weekend is genius QMF scheduling because you have multiple chances to see most acts. Estere has brought her "machine band" with her and she even 'introduces' us to the different console components by 'name' (for example, her MPC is called Lola). She has a strong movement element throughout her performance and could just be New Zealand's answer to St Vincent.
Over on Lighthouse Stage, Cookin' On 3 Burners simmer. They warm into their set with some instrumental jams before introducing gyrating Stella Angelico to the stage and we're not sure this family-friendly festival is ready for her X-rated dance moves. It's all good stuff, but lacks visual excitement during the songs that are delivered without a vocalist. Tex Perkins brings it (particularly in Flat On My Back) even if he does have a tendency to dance like a pterodactyl.
Reggae and dub with added didge? That'd be Kingfisha over on Hippos Stage. This shit would go off at Rainbow Serpent! At one point the didge man, who reckons his mum calls him "didgeriStu", appears to be playing a bongo with a walking stick. And then the flautist performs almost an entire flute solo on one leg in a yoga pose.
It's nearly time for Hoodoos Gurus so we head over to Lighthouse Stage and get a good posi. Brad Shepherd sings a song about "lead singer shit" and fittingly wears a paisley shirt, which really should be Hoodoo Gurus' uniform. In saying that, though, there's definitely at least one too many clashing patterned shirts onstage tonight. Hoodoos sure can play the hell out of their guitars! A neighbouring lady in the crowd is overheard telling her daughters, "See? They're old but they're good." That key change in Bittersweet is everything and then Miss Freelove '69 makes a mess of us all. The band look like they're having so much up there, which translates way past the footlights. 1000 Miles Away is a contemplative masterpiece and then it's back to the crazy sing-alongs for Like Wow — Wipeout (with those insistent drums and shouty choruses). We're left salivating. Frontman Dave Faulkner tells us they came on early so can play for a bit longer. Someone down the front yells out for Leilani, so they play that. Faulkner's guitar chops seem to surprise even him at times if his face is anything to go by. There's something T Rex-ish about Hoodoo Gurus and What's My Scene? causes mayhem. What a treat! But then as soon as they leave the stage the most annoying song ever is played over the sound system so we all rush out to investigate the food trucks.
Starting the day sitting in front of Lighthouse Stage for some comedy isn't a bad way to kick off day three. Tom Ballard and Cal Wilson bring the uncontrollable LOLs. When Wilson brings out her bit on the imaginary friend we actually reach for the tissues to mop up the tears of laughter.
But then it's back to the music at Hippos Stage. All Our Exes Live In Texas tell charming tales in between their songs and this outfit have an old-worldly charm that works perfectly in this midday timeslot. Just when you think you've chosen your favourite, in will come another swoon-worthy voice to change your mind as they switch between lead vocalists. All Our Exes Live In Texas introduce a new song called Parking Lot and win many new admirers.
Could Ron Sexsmith's backing band be any more eccentric? They take to Lighthouse Stage and the purple stage wash suits their tunes. If you can imagine what Rufus Wainwright's uncle might be like, your imaginings probably come close to Sexsmith (and, hey, they are both Canadian). Sexsmith wears a beautiful bejewelled brooch and if his voice were velvet, it's the most expensive money can buy. Sexsmith says this setting is a beautiful way to wrap up his world tour this year. Watching the keyboard player's expressions is priceless, he obviously feels the music deeply and this shows on his animated face and through his upper-body movement.
Ozone Lounge is going off to Vince Peach's tunes and it's always so satisfying to watch people of all ages dancing to his soul-drenched classic mix.
As we enter Hippos Stage, Mustered Courage are closing their set with a rendition of Queen's Fat Bottomed Girls. And their version swings a little bit too much for this pair of ears.
Crap! How did we miss Pete & His Circus Dogs featuring Lou Lou the "semi-retired" 16-year-old poodle in the Kids Quarter?
Our wanderlust then sees us returning to Lighthouse Stage for some Kate Miller-Heidke. She sings an operatic version of Psycho Killer by Talking Heads, which perfectly shows off her operatic range and her diction shines on a light some hella creepy lyricism (although all the "fa-fa-fa-fa"s are a bit much). Miller-Heidke then closes this song with a segment from Stairway To Heaven ("And she's buying a stairway to heaven"). As kooky as ever, Miller-Heidke looks like a modern-day Little Boo Peep up there in her woven chocolate-brown bonnet and whimsical powder blue ensemble.
Ah, Angus & Julia Stone, always a pleasure. Julia's trumpet solo during Private Lawns impresses as always and the banjo player during this number is also worthy or praise. She really nails balayage (perhaps only trounced by Jared Leto with this look) and, although her vocal is little-girly it's not annoying for some reason. Big Jet Plane makes us all wanna meet Angus at a festival and be whisked away on his large aircraft. He may look like a lost fisherman, but the SNAG factor is off the chart! Julia tells us that, while walking through Queensliff today, she was reminded of busking around Sydney with her brother Angus back in the early days. The sibling pair then sings a song, just the two of them up on stage, to honour their beginnings.
Bless Queenscliff for being one of the only remaining multi-day festivals in this country that's suitable for teenagers experiencing their very first music festival. Does this make it a 'gateway' festival for future festival heads? Absolutely.