Day 3 started in the Mixed Up tent with Nagriie, kicking things off with her soulful booming voice for such a tiny and stunningly attired creature. This songstress has evolved and matured into a diva powerhouse since her beginnings as an Australian Idol.
Beach Slang in the Amphitheatre mused on-and-on about getting on the sauce between their surf-infused-rock. Lido and Kim Churchill didn’t really make much of an emotional impact. Snakehips were nice easy listening, chilling on the lawn outside.
Two blokes got married by two Nun’s who may have been high on crack. They pashed. One expose their bare bum to be spanked with a wooden paddle for lying about his real name. But confessed for consuming intoxicants.
Sticky fingers were a surprise treat, pulling in a massive, sing-a-long and enthusiastic crowd. Bookmarked by At The Driving lead precious Cedric Bixler-Zavala, who rambunctiously confused the lighting guys by kicking lights off the stage to make more room for flouncing around and offending every teenage girl for buying makeup and shoes online. No mention that they were playing the set before one of the biggest bands in the world – lame.
The Cure delivered for two hours and forty minutes. Robert Smith and the band tight as ever, playing crowd favourites and signalling their placement as rockin roll royalty.
Truly splendid indeed.
MJ Wilson 