Passion & Power: Pandemonium Rocks Proved it’s Punk-naciousness
Festivals are going DOWN left right and center in AU including the loss of staple event Splendour in the Grass - so any opportunity to see international acts on the scale of Alice Cooper and Blondie - I was rooting for it. There were setbacks and changes, bands and stages pulled, location shifts, and moments where I was preparing to let the Blondie dream die… but what remained was a strong festival in which I had the absolute pleasure of photographing and enjoying.
I got tremendously lost on the way to the Gold Coast Parklands. A Brisbane city girl does know how to drive but her navigation and her apparent prehistoric idea that it ‘only takes an hour to get to the GC’ was what got me off on the wrong foot. Why does it take so long to get to the GC now? M1? M3? More like M-SLEEPing at the wheel, wake up why are we on the cover of The Walking Dead season 1 right now it’s 11:30am! My 1 wrong turn off the roundabout had me well and truly in the depths of Pimpima and my Spotify shuffle whiplash of Jamiroquai’s elatedness taunted me through the stand still back roads, white the depressing lows of Jeff Buckley wailing as I was stationarily sandwiched between towering trucks, sweating onto the steering wheel, sunglasses less and hungry had me in a silent panic - now somehow 2pm and 37 minutes off arrival - granted I make no more mistakes - I eventually got out of Pimpima and to the parklands where I started hitchhiking as I was about 1km off target. The day started rough let’s just say that. 2 minutes of aimlessly wondering without a GPS because, what difference would it make? I saw a rather relaxed woman in a Blondie T-shirt so I ‘ Target acquired’ her and discreetly stalked her down the never-ending parklands (I don’t come to the GC) and thanked her for her navigation (in my head). A seamless entry through the gates was the beginning of a 180 for me and as soon as I was in the Pandemonium stratosphere I breathed a breath of relief that I was only missing cosmic psychos (I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, they’re just not my bag.)
Wolfmother
If you don’t turn it up to 11 for ‘Woman’ - you’re simply a liar.
Wolfmother took the brunt of the sun and heat but played through it rather victoriously. Their presence on this ‘iconic’ rock festival lineup was very warranted and their slot was when the day really got started for me. It’s crazy that white unicorn has been out for 14 years? What do you mean? Their 2005 record is iconic Australian rhetoric, an eternally strong rock album that is nostalgic but ignites vigour into the air as soon as someone puts it on at a dying party, karaoke or during a road trip in the middle of nowhere in Sydney and you can’t stop thinking about wolf creek. I was lucky to shoot their set from the stage, but as soon as I got up there and saw the expanse in which the festival extended, I was pleased to know that pandemonium festival had pulled it off. Seeing things from the artists POV and being as close to the action as possible is not so much adrenaline, but more like my water. It’s vital for my life-force. Aside from almost tripping on the core - I had a lovely time perched behind the drums, watching the sea of people enjoy Wolfmothers offerings.
Wheatus
I found the Wheatus set most endearing and sweet. From the minute Brendan B. Brown walked on stage and then immediately off again for a toilet break, to the smiles being exchanged between band members, it was wholesome and clearly a joy for Wheatus to be on the Gold Coast.
There were talks about the last time they were here, filming a video and how they loved it and missed it, and I tried to see the GC from a foreigner’s perspective, but it was nice to know they felt at home and that we instantly cured their pneumonia. The sun really does have healing properties.
Aside from their ‘one hit’ - Wheatus played an upbeat and engaging set that had a whole lot of people moving.
The Psychedelic Furs
The sun was setting, the temperature was cooling and the breeze gently began to sweep through. It was the perfect time to start rugging up - the cool breeze brushing my cheeks and the sweet sounds of UK Legends The Psychedelic Furs engulfed the air. There’s nothing on this earth that makes me feel more content than some English post-punk.
I wholeheartedly felt transported and transient as the furs played stand-out hits like ‘Love My Way’, ‘Pretty in Pink’, & ‘Heaven’. A dream-like state washed over me as I stood side of the photo pit, totally engulfed and enamored by the instant mood shift and daze that had washed over me. It was the perfect day-to-night transition for a festival and the foreign venue and landscape made for an exaggerated experience.
The band played as if they were one entity mellowing out together, oozing only calm and serene bliss - with vocalist Richard Butler at the helm of the world’s seemingly safest ship - his timeless voice just as lovely as it was in the 80s, performed with effortless charm and grace.
Tranquilly inspired, being trapped in that time bubble could have lasted a lifetime and I would have been content with that.
Blondie
Standing on a concrete pillar hugging the tent pole it was attached to, my cameras falling off my shoulders, totally obstructing the view of the sound engineer, I was watching BLONDIE open with x offender from FOH.
Debbie Harry has been one of those concrete pillars throughout my life. My true Tumblr bedroom discovery of Blondie was of giant proportions. Tumblr punk blogs filled with photos of this ‘blondie’ woman were everywhere, and I was enamoured by the atmosphere that seemed to be living within the photographs on my blog. After discovering this whole CBGB’s thing and doing my research - instead of doing any homework (I failed a lot of classes, it was pure neglect), I was swept up in Debbie Harry’s iconography, her attitude and the fact that she was at the forefront of this 70’s punk movement.
When I first heard “I’m not the kind of girl who gives up just like that” in Tide Is High, it definitely buried deep into my young head… and those words resurfaced 2 years ago when I took control of my previously incontrollable life. I didn’t realise the impact of these words until a few years ago when I was labelled ‘persuasive’ by an employer and everyone around me questioned my mental stability (which I’m still ?? on). These words are responsible for inspiring some of my wildest manifestations (polite way to phrase begging, wishful thinking, cold emailing, shamelessness…etc…) and hearing them sung by Debbie, on the horizon of her 80th birthday - made everything that much crystal clear.
Shooting from FOH although not ideal when you’re supporting a f.4 in the dark - those who know, know - was a beautiful view regardless. Taking in the very typical art pop, Andy Warhol graphic design backdrop that Debbie is no stranger to - and gazing around at the giant crowd, I was definitely practicing mindfulness or whatever it is they say to do in the 100’s of self-help audiobooks I’ve burned through. I joke but I’m serious I’ve read 5 self-help books this year & its April. Mindfulness is good. Anyway. After the 3 photo approved songs were done - (Hanging on the Telephone, One way or Another), I abandoned the photo crew and managed to nestle my way through the crowd into a pocket of older women who were all crying, so I knew I’d found my new temporary crew. Being PRESENT and AWAKE I spent the next however long it was, quite literally gazing at Debbie with moon-sized eyes and exchanging smiles with said new crew. Watching her outgoing and playful nature very much alive on stage filled me with the biggest sense of security knowing that age is no limit to pursuing and continuing one’s dreams. We don’t see a lot of older women being held in the same regard as your Al Pacinos or your Robert De Neros - I love the os’ as much as the next Italian (I can say that, I have a Nonna) - but the equal ‘icon level’ status is not given as freely to women by mainstream media standards. Sometimes being a young woman, you’re made to feel 2 decades older than you are or you’re babied - both subjects too much to get into right now - but this yellow-suited blonde beacon of industry was affirming as a younger person in the crowd, overwhelmed by the pressures felt in the creative industry, and trying to figure things out. Blondie clearly mean a lot to me.
Her strong voice, her costume change and her overall infamous demeanour dominated the stage as Blondie churned though hit after hit; Call me, Atomic, Tide is high, Maria, RAPTURE (special mention, my favourite Blondie track) - and Heart Of Glass….Blondie is a band I haven’t forgotten - I’m just hung up on Debbie.
Ending their set, and possibly saying the last words I’ll get to hear Debbie Harry say live: ‘Dreams are everything. Never stop dreaming.’
Alice Cooper
Alice Cooper is a performer in every sense of the word. One of those legacy acts. I couldn’t turn down an opportunity to witness the Alice Cooper band in action, especially as he approaches 80 like Debbie - both still demanding the utmost attention as they perform.
I was afforded some special treatment at the festival and was allowed to spend some time backstage, up in that catering business - thank you Grant for the bananas and the Diet Coke - but I got to meet some of the Alice Cooper band members including Hollywood Vampire’s Tommy Hendrickson, peep on what the Fur’s were putting on their plates and got to use the clean bathrooms away from the beer ingesting patrons. It’s the small things.
You know things are going to be killer when there’s a drop curtain. The shadow of a top hat became visible, and then Alice appeared at the drop with a snippet of Lock Me Up. Followed by ‘Welcome to the Show’ - it was hard to take in the myriad of people and props on stage - the stage was dressed with massive columned staircases, rises, and all of the extensive props Alice seemed to be wielding every 2 seconds. From canes to crutches, his stage charisma was almost unreal. I was in shock that he performed, sounded, and acted exactly as I first saw him in the POISON music video ?! A man about his craft, the theatrical nature of the Alice Cooper band production was astronomical. I yearn for more shows of this scale - a true marvel of what icon-level artistry is made of, the attention to detail, and the sheer creativity of several outfit changes, stage shifts, to die-for lighting queues and classic shock rock hits.
I couldn’t help but fall in love with the campy, goth rock visions I was seeing. Knowing who you are and what you’re about is the simplest way to describe Alice Cooper. I genuinely believe he is a true testament to that notion and the love that it can bring you and your career - just being yourself and a hoard of people are coming to watch you play into your late 70’s. I had a total unbridled sense of joy witnessing this artist and stage show. At times it felt as if the show read like a theatre show, with all of its twists and turns, Alice’s almost monologue delivery - the band taking turns to have detailed solos, Alice walking off stage several times for costume changes while the band played songs without him; Black Widow, Killer, I love the dead. I kept thinking to myself throughout this show - how giant the Manson, Guns, God and Government tour would have been, but I never would have been able to see that show aside from burn out the tour DVD I had.
Besides getting terrified when the snake came on, wrapping itself around Alice Coopers head, I was glued to the show despite the sweat that was gently breaking behind my neck. The highlight of the set was the straight jacket number, Ballad of Dwight Fry. The set had morphed into a dark display, with a mild hint of mint green lighting and a spotlight on the straight-jacketed Cooper. I’m a sucker for a 70’s/80’s rock ballad (Ozzy is my breathing machine in times of strife), so I was pretty ‘locked in’ for this song. There were glimpses of Alice’s deeper register which were like pieces of gold amongst the raspy, theatrical voice we are all familiar with. Although I was enamored by the glam and the showbiz of it all, the rawness in a spotlighted, straight-jacketed performance was the most capturing moment for me and one that showcased Alice’s vocal abilities - completely powerful and untouched despite his age and extensive career. It won’t be soon forgotten, alongside his maniac screaming of ‘I gotta get outta here’ which mirrored my exact testaments trapped in Pimpima hours earlier in the day…
I love it when people act sick and twisted and silly so, ‘Ballad of Dwight’ encapsulated everything wicked about Alice Cooper for me…that and watching him perform and interact with his wife of 45 years, Sheryl who injected another level of charisma and wholesomeness to the performance, even when dancing around with a decapitated Alice Cooper head. True love.
Amidst the musical virtuosity, the stage transformed into a spectacle for the senses during ‘Election’. Giant props and elaborate set designs adorned the stage, creating a surreal backdrop for Alice Cooper's theatrical antics. From the larger-than-life election podium, flags, and the surreal landscapes in the form of LED screens, each element of the set design added another layer of intrigue to the performance, drawing the audience deeper into the Alice Cooper experience. He’s got my vote and I don’t even know what I’m voting for :( That’s how they do it. I believe I was unconsciously committing in the incriminating act of simping, which is desperately out of character, what is this show doing to me?! Ps simping is okay in real life when it’s mutually agreed upon. From one grand moment to the next, the show steamrolled through the night and ended on an extended version of ‘School’s Out’, blended with ‘Another Brick in The Wall’ and a full band introduction, with solos from Nita Strauss, Tommy Hendrickson, Ryan Roxie + Chuck Garric.
As the show wrapped up and a red, blue, and white confetti streamer affair occurred in the air, I was off to hitchhike back to my car, with the hoard of freaks. The end of a big concert or festival usually warrants some interesting sights - the washed up, drunken, crying, vomiting, and general weirdness of stragglers all come with the show experience - but that teamed with the fact it was an Alice Cooper headlined festival, made for an extra interesting display of gods greatest design.
I’m glad I had a team of 3 women escorting me back to my hatchback. The post-festival photography brain always turns into silly mush especially when I’m with my closest team, so naturally when the sillies took over, an ambulance van pulled over to check on us, I knew we were elite-tier riffing. A thankfully breezy drive home had me safe in the comfort of my inner city familiarity and the immediate editing process gripped me, still high off the Debbie Harry dream.
Thank you, Melanie, Chris, and Grant for having me along & Pandemonium Rocks Festival for power ballading through the storm.
Day x x x
