RUFUS Red Bull Roadie Diaries: Melbourne & Sydney

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RUFUS Red Bull Roadie Diaries: Melbourne & Sydney

Bromance blooms as the boys hit up the culture capital.

It’s 8.30 in the morning and business is brewing in the Sydney airport lounge. Part of me wants to sit up and get involved, or at least put my sleazy journo hat on and eavesdrop on the RÜFÜS gossip, but instead I just vaguely consider my outfit – luckily I went with ridiculous denim hot pants after last week’s pleathery disaster – and think about how the Ü’s in RÜFÜS look like big smiley faces.

Pat however, is sprightly as fresh, fitting right in with the lively morning vibes the boys have become expert generators of. With one hand wrapped around a serious ‘sambo’ and the other fixing up his trademark trucker cap, he’s ready for a hard day’s roadie-ing, trouble-making inclusive.

After being shaken awake after a bit of casual frightening turbulence (what the hell Melbourne weather, weren’t you meant to be having a devastating heat wave or something?!), I can focus on being a sneaky fly on the wall of the boy’s chat. The van from the airport to Flemington Racecourse in Melbourne’s North is a hotbed of confabulation. What started as a general meeting of intellectualism –eg. James making up the word rüfüsley (genius), soon turned into some serious conversation. Maybe it was the brooding rain and clouds that got us feeling all contemplative, but thoughts turned to the future. The guys had popped by Europe and the US after releasing debut album Atlas (the irony?) and were discussing plans to make their return, in-between DJ-ing solo and as band-alter-ego SÜFÜR, not to mention fighting off the lay-dayze.

In amongst this they made clear that they wanted to schedule studio time to work on new album content.

‘I love working solo but I really want to work on some new RÜFÜS material early this year’, Jon said, in anticipation of album number two. He then pondered upon when this might be able to happen, musing upon a couple of weeks between global touring and an abundance of local projects and collaborations. I suddenly felt pretty bad for scheduling off a specific time in my day to eat peanut butter in my underwear.

We may or may not have struggled hard to get into the Big Day Out itself in our maxi taxi (sorry for yelling atcha’ Mr Taxi man). Several roundabouts later, we went and dropped off the gear in the backstage tent as the boys dolled themselves up for the show. Meanwhile, Pat got to work making sure the guys had plentiful supplies as the festival grounds began to pack out with ironic shirts and booty shorts.

Taking to/stealing a golf buggy from some legitimate roadies, Pat and I went for a joyride before picking up the boys. Pretty quickly into our happy drive we were pulled over by angry security due to our need for speed.

Donning the charm pants, Pat batted some serious eyelash and with smooth moves apologised to the guard. After rectifying the stitch we sped off again;

‘Aw no, I was going 18 in a 15 zone’, Pat joked with an evil glint in his eye. Wondering whether he was concerned over his roadie duties or hoping for roadie world domination – Pat was really starting to get into this backstage business.
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He had more of an opportunity to put those rippling roadie muscles to work when he and helper Tom got the guns pumping to shift stage equipment. Following some pretty sweet sets from Peking Duk and Big Gigantic, the Boiler Room was starting to get pretty steamy despite the average weather. Pat and the band alike were working up a serious sweat, ready to play to a crowd that was highly enthusiastic yet looked weirdly trendy – damn ya Melbourne.

Looking pretty darn trendy themselves, RÜFÜS stepped out onto the stage and immediately started to pump up the jams. Although there may have been a few mosh-raver kids in the crowd, they were soon sedated by smooth beats and a whole lotta synth. Joined on stage for anti-love song ‘Unforgiven’ by that mystery songstress Owl Eyes (what a babetown), the guys delivered some serious tracks. Call me cray cray but there seemed to be some chemistry between Owl Eyes and Tyrone. Despite the massive sounds you could still hear a thousand teen hearts breaking, it was awesome.

The sky had started to clear after the show, and after catching a few other acts (the amount of Blur references was both impressive and cringey), we returned to the backstage area. After I filled my pockets with free cookies, grabbed a piccolo latte – trust Melbourne Big Day Out to get it’s own barista – and rubbed myself against the lead singer of The Hives (fan girl’s gonna fan girl), we reluctantly piled back into the van and made our way back to Tullamarine airport.

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