Fields

FIELDS ON FALLS

Perth-based artist, Fields, spent most of 2018 developing her solo career, away from fronting successful indie rock outfit, Brufield.  Working hard releasing songs and playing gigs all over town, with more national and international dates to be announced soon, Fields is a phenomenon on the local music scene.  Peppering her alluring and highly original singer-songwriter chops with some of the best repartee in town, Fields is one artist you need to put on your to-see list for 2019.  So, we thought it would be interesting to get Fields’ views on happenings at The Falls Fremantle last weekend, and she didn’t let us down.  Here’s what transpired.

I come weaponised with the skills of motherhood

It’s 3:30pm Saturday, as the security guy rummages through my personals and we have an awkward exchange about my lady items before he ushers me through the gate.  There's already a sea of glittered beards and rainbow ponytails swaying in unison to Hockey Dad as I make my way to the bar.  First things first, hydration and an attempt to map out my plan of attack on Fremantle Oval for Falls Fremantle day 1.

My first port of call, Dean Lewis.  Taking to the Main stage with his full band, all dressed in black I wonder if that was a deliberate styling effort or a happy coincidence.  Personally I love Dean's music, as did the adoring crowd singing back to him word for word recent hits such as ‘Be Alright‘.  But, as I made an early exit to catch my next act I hear a familiar melody, and the lyrics ‘Slip inside the eye of your mind’ ring through the air.  I'm not gonna lie, I may have rolled my eyes.  I may have sighed.  I may have even shaken my head a little.  But I didn’t look back in anger.  Bloody Oasis, Dean? Of all the covers!  NEXT!

Call me biased, I’ll call you baby, but I didn’t think it possible that an artist could sound better live than on record.  It sounds crazy, but when Dermot Kennedy opened his mouth it became a black hole, and when those sound waves entered that mic, that tent became an event horizon.  You were trapped.  No escape.  That’s what he does to you.  Don’t be fooled by this shy baseball cap-wearing trackie-adorning Irish lad.  This fella is the real bloody deal. He has a voice that I can only imagine is what an actual soul looks like!  He kicks you right in the gut with each note, each lyric. He takes you willingly. You’re his forever.  My favorite from Saturday.

Later, while I was enjoying the frills of Catfish and the Bottlemen, who were ripping everyone a new one on the main stage, I decided to shoot around to have a listen to Jack River.  So, I clambered my way through the army of now zombiesqe Falls goers (maybe something to do with the waft of herbal highness in the air) to catch a few minutes of her set.  Already 20 minutes in, the tent was packed, hot and stuffy, but she shone like a fluffy glittery disco fairy and she had me at hello.  Clearly I’m well late to the Jack River Party, and as the tent exploded with Bangers such as Fools Gold and Limo Song, I knew exactly what would be going straight on my playlist.

Just before I left to go home (a little early to avoid the chaos), I stopped off to see Dizzee Rascal, who only needs one word: BONKERS.

SUNDAY
Toto. That song.
We sang, we danced, we moved along.

Vance Joy was absolutely sublime, which is not a word I would use too often, but it’s what comes to mind when I look back at his performance.  I had been somewhat underwhelmed with some of the other solo artists’ overall performances on the main stage, so I wasn’t really expecting to be blown away.  It’s a big stage and it’s a big job to put across an exceptional show to thousands of people.  Yes, Vance had a band but I honestly didn’t even notice them because I couldn’t take my eyes off him.  In my opinion, that’s what sets an artist apart.

Amazing.

My wild card for Sunday was Cub Sport.  If Madonna and Prince had a musical Baby, it would be these Guys . Just stunning.

My Final thoughts:  A few things that got up my goat.

Look, I swear like a sailor and am not exactly verbally eloquent on stage (we beg to differ, ATS Ed.), but I think some of the more recent chart-topping artists feel they have a sense of entitlement to yell out the F-bomb during and after every single song!

WHY?  Is it because they have reached a certain status through Triple J and mainsteam audiences? Is it because they think their fans will think it’s cool?  Is it because they think it’s cool?

Maybe I’m getting old but for me it’s the equivalent of Britney Spears screaming ‘Fuckin Hit me baby one more time‘ in her school uniform.  The shame.  Stop the madness.  Dropping an F-bomb during your set intentionally more than once, unless you’re  Bob Geldof (look him up young people, he was someone once and he swore a lot!) or, even cooler, Shannon Noll, is just musical terrorism! STOP IT!

Also, when did it become OK to stick your fingers into a stranger’s tray of hot chips?  Yes, they are steaming hot, dripping in salt and vinegar and lathered in ketchup but that is NOT an invitation to dip your smelly chubby paws all up in them.

These kids are lucky I come weaponised with the skills of motherhood, and have a high tolerance for brats, but beware I also carry a wooden spoon with me at all times.

Touch my hot chips without asking one more time there Timmy and I’m gonna bend you over my knee!!

All in all, Falls Fremantle was fun.

Fields out x

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