Typically NYE is celebrated and quickly forgotten about come the new year. However, now in it’s third instalment, Let Them Eat Cake finds us blurring the lines of this year and last in a hedonistic electronic boutique feast. A feast for all senses really, with the beautifully manicured lawns on the Werribee Mansion helping you escape nightmares of dusty doofs past, the gourmet food and cocktails taking care of your hangovers and the lineup, and well I don’t need to tell you what a good lineup does.
Stupidly consuming train station sushi before my journey into Werribee, I slapped on top of an already ugly hangover the fear of food poisoning – not smart. But after an hour of existential discussions with my equally run-down mates we made it to the mansion and all the aches, pains and nausea melted away.
The Mansion and it’s surroundings is a breath of fresh air that hits you over the face like a cold, spicy wet towel. Also we were pretty relieved we still felt okay after that sushi.
Arriving at Cake in time to catch Todd Terje‘s set, undoubtedly one of the festival’s biggest headliners, we were eased into the swing of things with a comforting bout of euphoric house music and disco gems that lifted the crowds spirits. The warm sun was a welcomed change from the previous year, especially for my outfit’s sake and everything was running smoothly, bar for some awkward run ins with acquaintances I don’t really like. Terje teased the crowd by opening with an edit of Men At Work’s Land Down Under but failed to play any of the big hits. The Bastille stage then offered up Midland. Taking the reigns and lifting the crowd up with deep basslines and classic house hits, an ill-timed ciggie break had me running back to the stage at the sound of Oni Ayhun’s OAR003-B booming in the distance.
I took a break to seek out a few cocktails, a few bites to eat and a lay down on the grass after which I headed to Goldie. I am not a fan of Drum n Bass and missing the start of KiNk was probably something I’d regret but when someone like Goldie is playing a festival, you don’t miss it. People who I thought I knew pretty well shot into the crowd as I stood on the outskirts to get a few peeps at the legend, his gold grills catching the light every so often. It was kind of ridiculous how he stood there, stoic, not moving more than what was necessary as he played the most boisterous drum n bass I head ever heard. I left my sweaty pals in the mosh and returned to the comfort of the Bastille stage to see KiNk, whose live performance was surely an inspiration to gear heads everywhere. As he hypnotically twisted knobs and brought everyone to their knees with incredible acid basslines, KiNk surely in that moment was crowned by many as the act of the day.
The day soon turned to night and upon my friend’s intoxicated advice (don’t trust intoxicated people) we headed over to see Hudson Mohawke briefly whose set sounded like PC Music and not the Hudmo I had come to know – although he did briefly play Kanye West’s Bound 1. The remix of Tiga’s Bugatti he played that sounded like farts wasn’t for me though. The lesson to be learned here is – don’t remix Bugatti.
Returning to where I should have remained, I got set to enjoy Carl Craig, who had a striking resemblance to Morpheus and by no coincidence brought the festival to a euphoric end. Playing what everyone wanted and what everyone needed to hear at the end of such a perfect day, including Inner City’s Big Fun, Octave One’s Blackwater and then finally ending the festival with Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams.
It was a festival to rival all other festivals… and not a single Santa Cruz singlet was spotted.