Now That's What I Call A Music Festival - the Apollo Bay Music Festival.

April 2011 - Apollo Bay Music Festival.
There was a time in the late nineties when I was a regular of sorts on the Festival scene. I wasn't what you would call a hardcore festival devotee by any means, I generally took the more sanitised route of V Festivals and the like, but they were a lot of fun. I have memories of the non stop partying, of waking up next to strangers in tents, of the inevitable rain soaked fields, of bouncing joyfully through the masses, the no shower/no toilet regime, and of the frenetic pace of it all. And then there was the music. Wait. I almost remembered something else then. Nope, it's gone.


There are those who can keep it going into their thirties and beyond and there are those who retire gracefully from the scene, which would most definitely be me. I do miss hanging out with my festival buddy Prings, and we became friends for life over plastic cups of beer and front row ogling of the All Saints. I also miss discovering new bands and musical genres you'd never had the opportunity to hear before. (I became a Faithless convert for life, but never got the Manics.) As for everything else that goes with it, like many my appetite waned as my life shifted into a slower pace.

Then an ad for The Apollo Bay Music Festival caught my eye and took me back to yesteryear. The core ingredients of a solid festival were there: three days of music, multiple stages, an international line up, a beer tent, and a field. There were also a few side dishes which added a little extra appeal: a beach side location, covered venues, sets that finished with last orders, and a line up I had never heard of. You may think this just wasn't rock 'n' roll, but you would be wrong. That's exactly what it was, with a little bit of country and folk thrown in too. It was most definitely a connoisseurs festival, and without the big names to attract the in-crowd meaning less rowdiness, less queues at the bar, and less pretence. That would prove to be deal clincher in the case of the defence as was presented to my festival partner and wife, and which was fully approved several months in advance.

When the weekend arrived, I must admit to feeling a little excited and nervous at the same time. The tickets weren't cheap at $150 a throw, and would it live up to the memories of the past? And who the heck were all these bands with no names? It didn't start well. We lined up for the opening parade at 6pm, it was half an hour late, and consisted of a bunch of disinterested kids aimlessly walking up and down main street in fancy dress. We got our hands on a program. One of the stages was actually called The Senior Citizens Hall. Help.

Thankfully, after that it was all about the show. The bands didn't need names. And what a show it was.
Incredibly, the star was a 58 year old American rock n roll diva who played a mean electric guitar, and had the crowd dancing around their handbags and zimmer frames. She was awesome. There was a fantastically funny concept band headed by a Noddy Holder wannabe in a purple suit who did their own version of a rock opera. Both these gigs were in pubs next door to each other. Now that's what I call a party. A couple of Melbourne young hopeful bands in the main tents were next on the list, and an Australian country singer from Nashville completed our line up. Street performers were scattered around the small high street - we stopped to listen to a couple of teens on drums and bass guitar belting out the opening to Seven Nation Army. An hour later they were still doing the same riff, but the care free masses were lapping it up.

We loved the fact that all the venues, whether pubs or the tented main stages were within 50 yards of each other. We went back to our digs for a glass of wine between sets, we sat down for one of the performances, we left the festival early to snuggle up next to the log fire. We didn't even use the Sunday ticket of our weekend pass. Hell, we broke all the rules. They were ours to break.

In fact the only thing constant from the days of old were the wristbands. And that brought back a smile. I still haven't figured out how to get them off when you don't have any scissors.