

There are certain things that should be left unsaid in order to avoid conflict. At this year’s Sugar Mountain festival, Nas bulldozed through that rule with charming American gusto: “Man, these buildings – it’s like we’re in the projects”. Hold it there, mate. If you were looking for one sure-fire way to turn Sugar Mountain’s inner- city white kids bright red, this was it. The Victorian College of the Arts isn’t exactly the same place Jenny used to sing about. But you can’t really blame Nas for getting a bit carried away—this year’s Sugar Mountain played itself out like an epic.
We were made to wait two years. 2014 saw the festival get a much-needed injection of cash from the Mushroom Group. This was like Broad City’s comedy central moment. And boy did they sure deliver the goods—Nas’ Illmatic (in full), Kim Gordon’s art rock experiment Body/Head, and surprise appearances from Neil Finn and Dev Hynes via video link during Kirin J Callinan’s set. Throughout the day, though, you got a sense that this festival wasn’t riding off sheer spectacle. Sugar Mountain bills itself as a “summit of music and art”, but that tagline forgoes the most important assertion of all—this festival does so much to distill and communicate a Melbourne story that’s wholly our own. For some of this city’s inhabitants, our ‘indie’ culture is increasingly bleeding into a mainstream definition of Melbourne. We’re a city that boasts of coffee that’s second-to-none, a music city that bites the hand that feeds it and wins, and a city that “demands some level of civic engagement beyond simply walking the streets.”
From the inner-city’s gentrified masses to the sports-luxe goths roaming Melbourne’s CBD till the early-morn, Sugar Mountain was a summit for Melbourne’s disparate microscenes. If we’re a city defined by villages, then the villagers flocking to Sugar Mountain would all have a link to an ‘alternative’ culture that’s continually eroding into ever more niche divisions. The club kids could’ve stayed with the 2 Bears while Kim Gordon resonated with the crowds old enough to remember Sonic Youth. Melbourne, though, was in fine form: Twerps, Chela, Slum Sociable, Banoffee, NO ZU, Oscar Key Sung, Ash Keating, Leif Podhajsky—if you thought there couldn’t have been a more ‘Melburn’ festival than Paradise, then Sugar Mountain sure blew that out of the water.
Oh yeah, and don’t forget our local craft beer and gourmet food trucks.

As much as this could’ve devolved into an insular Melbourne love-in, SM felt more like a celebration of local and international artists who have contributed to the city’s broader culture. Twerps’ Marty Frawley revealed that his Mum studied painting at VCA. I’lls‘ Hamish Mitchell (as Sangkhara) and collaborator, Nicholas Keays did the video art for Oscar Key Sung and Cassius Select. Lauded Melbourne photographer Prue Stent helped to create Sugar Mountain’s art direction. Ash Keating’s multi-storey abstract painting, arguably the festival’s artistic centrepiece, adorned the VCA (of which he’s a graduate). The very fact that Sugar Mountain hosted art reminded us that we’re a city that we do ‘culture’ without tokenism, sometimes.

People actually went into the VCA’s exhibition spaces and viewed Leif Podhajsky’s mixed- media works—the same could be said of Hisham Baroocha’s sitting next door. If most major galleries are afraid of declining audience numbers (apart from MONA), then Sugar Mountain went on to show that it’s not that hard to re-contextualise visual art’s consumption (despite parts still being shown in a traditional white cube). The idea of mixing a music festival with visual art is a promising one—a decision that lends itself to Melbourne’s inherent thirst for involved civic engagement (ahem, MPavilion, NGV’s Friday Nights).

So as much as it could’ve been criticised as a festival where privileged inner-city white kids dance to Nas like they’ve been through their fair-share of #struggles, Sugar Mountain is at its best when it lets Melbourne tell its own stories through a mix of local and international artists who have directly or indirectly contributed to our collective identity. For a generation raised on a late-90s definition of pop culture—one where hip hop, R&B, and pop reigned supreme—Sugar Mountain gave everybody the chance to relish a interpretation of popular culture, which made the Johan Rashids of this city sit alongside Body / Head without fear of being caught in their shadows.
It’s these moments which remind us all, that hey, not only have we got one world, but we’re actually making a contribution to it even though we’re stuck at the end of the earth.
For those of you unacquainted, Castlemaine is a country centre that’s about an hour’s drive west of Melbourne. Situated between Ballarat and the Victorian capital, it once was a town fuelled by gold, then left to fend for itself after the hordes of new money left.In 2014 it still remains as a country centre, but it’s evaded the plastic re-hash of most urban centres. It isn’t mall-i-fied, and nor does it rely upon an antiquated mirage of ‘colonial heritage’ to get tourist dollars in. It is this town that now lays claim to DD Dumbo (aka. Oliver Hugh Perry).
If you’ve ever had one of those experiences where you’ve liked something on Facebook, forgot about them, and then they’ve suddenly popped up all over your barometers of ‘cool’, then Alba’s my most recent example.
There’s a bit to know about Alba. Being the first imprint for Plastic World, founded by Future Classic and Astral People alumni, Knokke/Law’s a solid release for a label touting itself as a home for ‘forward-thinking Australian music’. Whether Plastic World reaches the same level of ‘forwardness’ that the likes of New Weird Australia has, or if it builds off the success of its founding members is something that’s going to be interesting to watch in 2014.
Alba were once Albatross, off the now-defunct Life Aquatic. They’re a Sydney duo comprised of Thomas McAlister and Sam Weston, who first introduced themselves with Murder/Caspers Theme. It was a debut exploring minimal electronica that you actually should listen to, right now. Occupying a space that typified the reason why festivals like Sequence exist, Murder/Caspers Theme seemed to tap right into the bedroom-producer/beat scene that’s dominated non-Flume electronica over the past few years.
Now, enter Knokke/Law. Detroit House anyone? If you’re hankering for a boogie, then look no further than this release. Moving away from their otherwise ambient predecessors, both ‘Knokke’ and ‘Law’ combine the elements of Detroit that has been appropriated ever since. The 909 hats, arpeggiated crescendos, and the immersive synths grip where other local electronic efforts sink into melodic introspection. This is topped off by remixes from Detroit’s Jimmy Edgar and Rick Wade, that make this release’s lineage just that bit clearer.
And, if you consider the fact that their first signed act has supported Four Tet, Mount Kimbie, and Gold Panda, that’s a trifecta that I don’t think many local acts can put on their CV.
Photos by Alan Weedon
_____
Facebook / Web / Soundcloud
(photo: Karl Scullin)
Ooooooweeeeeee. It’s time for some new Pikelet everybody.
‘Pressure Cooker’ is a groovin’ jam replete with the characteristically scattered vocals of lead, Evelyn Morris.
What this Melbourne based four piece does well, is provide ‘alt-pop’ that goes completely against the grain. As a band that’s a staple on community radio, Pikelet who makes you think about the construction of music than what’s presented through perceived national tastemakers. Tagged as ‘psych pop’ on their Soundcloud, it seems ‘Pressure Cooker’ does exactly that. From the get go, you’re immersed in those Pikelet synths, furthering that with woozy trip with reverb-laden guitar lines, and ever-subtle arpeggios.
While I think a band like Pikelet transcends labels, it’s tracks like ‘Pressure Cooker’ that really does make you think about Morris’ vocal style. Morris’ reminds me of Dirty Projectors’ Amber Coffman. They both possess a voice that fronts as hollow, almost ghost-like at points – but underpinning all that there’s some subterranean soul that’s waiting to be released, given the right context – just like Coffman on Major Lazer’s ‘Get Free‘.
And it’s only on this track which Morris hints at this, her voice working well within restraint particularly on the refrain “these are our darkest days”. The overall feel here makes you think this track could be a shoe-in for a video clip with projection art, dusty floorboards, and distant looks from the foursome (…maybe).
_____
Pikelet will launch ‘Pressure Cooker’ at the Tote Hotel, on Friday June 7.
Late last year, we introduced you to Milhowse, the Melbourne-based electronic artist, with a sound seemingly unable to be pinned down. But here he is with a new track (yay!), ‘Bad Lands’. He’s tagged it under ‘neurotic’, but we’ll let you decipher it for yourself, because I’m sick of filing this under trip-hop.
_____
Latest Comments
V
Still trying to purchase!!!ANTHONY J LANGFORD
Cool track. Congrats Joshua. Hope the release is a success.Tristan
Man I love these guys. I can't believe they are not releasing any new music. I've been to so many…sophie
^^ I love Grimes! Banoffee is one of my new favorite music artists! :) I love With Her, Reign Down,…Ace
Read your review then listened to the EP. Fantastic ! Different to most hardcore punk I listen to. Somewhat more…