The Best Gigs of 2010

Until 2010, I’d never camped out at a festival. Those of you who know how old I am – not that old, but not really a spring chicken either – might have thought those crazy days had passed me by. It appears not. This year I camped at not one, not two, but THREE festivals. Boom! Not surprisingly in the wash-up of top 10 best gigs for 2010, they feature rather prominently. For the record, these are in chronological order because I just can’t bring myself to rank them. Lazy? Perhaps. But this is my list, so I’ll do what I like.

10. Them Crooked Vultures at Festival Hall / 22 January
It was about 42ºC outside, so in the tin can that is Melbourne’s premier venue, Festival Hall, the mercury was hovering at about 97º (celcius not farenheit). Rather stupidly, we didn’t get in ticket-buying mode nearly early enough, so rather than being in the GA area at floor level we were in the all-ages (read: alcohol-free) balcony. About three songs in, perishing from dehydration, Luke rather graciously offered to go get bottles of water. They’d run out. All this didn’t detract from the awesome might of Dave Grohl, Josh Homme, John Paul Jones and the extra fourth member Alain Johannes as they wailed through the album and a whole lot more. Needless to say, they rocked. And I now understand the ‘girls love Josh Homme’ thing. But the man shouldn’t attempt to dance.

9. AC/DC at Telstra Stadium / 20 February
For the second time in seven days, we rocked out to Acca Dacca. Now I'm not saying they’re the greatest rock band ever, but one of their shows is a proper spectacular. Fireworks? Check. Massive train crashing through the set? Check. Giant blow-up Rosie? You betcha. Fans in flashing devil horns and brand new t-shirts purchased from the merch desk at great expense? Millions of ’em. There was not one single difference between the show in Melbourne a week before and this one (I don’t even remember a mention of what city we were in), apart from the fact that in Sydney we committed the ultimate in boganic acts and hired a stretch limo to take us to Homebush. On the way, we stopped at a servo to buy ice to chill the Jack & Coke UDLs. It was trés awesome. My one note to Brian: after 30 years of touring, your stage banter is so far below par it’s almost embarrassing. Not that anyone else cared.

8. Faith No More at Hordern Pavilion / 22 February
Yes, it was a loud few days. In fact, we followed AC/DC and Faith No More with Jane’s Addiction the following night. I can’t say I was expecting all that much, but lack of expectation is never a bad thing. Mike Patton looked like he’d been dressed by Bryan Ferry’s tailor, but he rocked like a child of Lucifer. At some point, Karen and I managed to get to the front. And then we had to get out. Try as I might I couldn’t find anyone to go to the return gig in Melbourne later in the week.

7. Nashville Pussy at Golden Plains / 7 March
Camping festival no 1 and it set a precedent for all that was to come: see the bands you might not necessarily have heard of because there’ll be a gem in there for sure. The same day, the Monotonix fit that particular mould for sheer craziness rather than any sort of musical ability (and had the power pulled on them due to crowd safety issues). The Pussies, on the other hand, are a bunch of hardcore punk hillbillies. They came, they wailed, they conquered. And I’m pretty sure the image of Karen Cuda – all leather and lace, short skirt and long boots – with one foot up on the wedge ‘shooting’ the crowd with her bass as the last notes rang out over the ampitheatre will be etched on the male members of the crowd’s brains forever more.

6. Pixies at Festival Hall / 23 March
The first attempt was a fizzer. I’d had a particularly shite weekend and had flown back to Melbourne for the Sunday night show and indulged in a few too many pints before arriving. Most of the night is a bit hazy, so I bought a ticket for the following Tuesday night (that’s a craptastic picture of them at the top of this post). Best. Decision. Ever. Some people don’t dig the classic albums tours, but when the album is as good as Doolittle you can’t argue. Here Comes Your Man, Monkey Gone To Heaven, There Goes Your Gun and Where Is My Mind? Perfection from start to finish. Watched them from side of stage at Splendour but that was all a bit hazy too, though others tell me it was the ‘best they’d ever seen them’. Hard to believe after that Tuesday night at Festie Hall.

5. The Strokes at Splendour in the Grass / 31 July
While all around me fell in a heap of drunk and stoned debauchery, somehow I managed to drag myself through the backstage area and get to the front. A perfect Woodford evening, Julian Casablancas’ hair blowing in the breeze, a set chockful of hits. What’s not to love?

4. You Am I at Billboard / 22 October
Of all the bands I adore, You Am I are at the top of the heap and I’ve probably seen them more than any other band in my long and bleary rock addiction (except maybe the Hoodoo Gurus). Anyone who thinks Timmy, Rusty, Andy and Davey have lost it and aren’t relevant any more should have been there this hot and sticky night. And the new album is a totes ripper as well.

3. Seven Songs To Leave Behind at Myer Music Bowl / 23 October
Reckon we got our 70 bucks worth in about the first 15 minutes. Sinead O’Connor doing L7’s Shitlist, John Cale playing Pablo Picasso (he co-wrote it with Jonathan Richman, just in case you’re wondering why), Meshell Ndegdocello singing Prince’s Pop Life and then grooving out on bass at the back of stage most of the night, Gurrumul’s eerily beautiful Djarrimirri, Rickie Lee Jones singing just about anything... It was a spectacular night.

2. Cosmic Psychos at the Tote / 12 November
It’s a cryin’ shame that these guys were never bigger than they are. My buddy Adam summed it up pretty well: ‘This is exactly the way pub rock should be. Too fast and too loud.’ And who can resist a band with a song called Come On Cunt on its set list?

1. Neil Finn at Meredith / 11 December
Just one man, his guitar, a swag of glorious pop songs and a whole bunch of really, really trashed punters. It’s not a likely combination, but as the rains came down – not nearly as heavily as they did during Sharon Jones’ set, but still – he held about 10,000 crazy trippers in the palm of his hand. He even pulled a bloke called Matt from the crowd to play Anytime. Then Warren Ellis joined him for Don’t Dream It’s Over. You could have killed me there and I would have died a happy camper. The night really was a corker: Neil was followed by Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings who, despite a torrential downpour arriving at the same time as them, would have blown the roof off if Meredith had a roof and, finally, the Dirty Three 20 years after they played the first Meredith. May there be many more.