Posts By Bec Capp
I never meant to make your daughter cry. I feel like a natural woman. Baby blue. How long, till I see your face?
Attempting to write a few words about a festival you know and love—but this year didn’t attend—is damn right awful. If you didn’t get along to the 12th Golden Plains Music Festival held at the Meredith Supernatural Amphitheatre, I suggest closing your browser right now, as these photos are about to pour a lot of salt into your fomo wound. We sent Tessa Mansfield-Hung along with her camera and great eye for capturing the good times in the ridic balmy sunshine. Here is our annual GP photo recap and it is better than ever, so I’ll let Tessa’s photos do the talking:
G’day! Here at whothehell we know that the days following Meredith can be tough. Chin up, take the rough with the smooth, never fear—you’ll feel human again before you know it. Though for now, to make you feel a bit better about the whole festival-hangover-situation, we bring you some snaps from the weekend that was (if these cannot cheer you up… well you are on your own).
Words and pictures by Bec Capp
Golden Plains XI marked my 10th time at the festival (I missed one about 4 years ago when I was doing that thing where Melbournians go live in Berlin). In 2007, when I was 16, my best mate told me about this cool ‘new’ festival her older brother knew about and convinced me to go with her. It probably cost $200 and The Presets were playing so it didn’t take much persuasion. We bought a slab of passionfruit UDLs, traded them off with a girl we knew from a nearby school for some No-Doz, and I never looked back.
Be it noted that I don’t condone underage drinking and neither does Golden Plains. There is a strict “No Dickheads” policy in force at the Meredith Supernatural Amphitheatre, which helps make this festival so special. GP XI was particularly dickhead free. Thanks Aunty (and maybe Pitch).
While the place is always a haven, some things have changed over 10 years. My group of friends (which has solidified and grown substantially thanks to this festival) has moved from screaming at bands on the barrier, all the way back to the fourth lantern on the left. The fourth one – that’s a new level of relaxed. Soon we’ll be sitting on the hill. In fact, I did watch Neil Finn from the hill. The amphitheatre was so beautiful from back there, with the sound of everyone singing along, I actually welled up. Friends I’ve danced with in the crowd are now up on stage. These days I like Bloody Marys, Sunset Strip has become like Bourke Street Mall on the weekend Zara opened, and there are cold showers where you never have to line up (highly recommended).
Of course, some things never change: the same friend from 2007 handed me a passionfruit UDL at about 3 a.m. on Monday, and in that moment it was the best thing I had ever tasted. There’s always a band I’ve never heard of that turns out to be a festival highlight (thanks Chain & The Gang). There’s always a great moment when you’re full of love, hugging everyone in your vicinity (thanks Total Giovanni). Pink Flamingos are consistently delicious and I have been camping in pretty much the same place since Golden Plains I.
It might only be a few days, but over a decade those few days every year have had a substantial impact on my life. Thanks to this place for the friendships I still have today and for moments that are unforgettable for many reasons. I would like to thank the Nolan family for making their home my own. RIP Jack Nolan.
See you in the ‘sup come December for MMF #27.
Meredith Music Festival 2016 captured by Ed Gorwell