Golden Plains Review

Golden Plains festival, held each March long weekend on Wadawurrung Country, brings together 12,000 friends and soon-to-be friends. This year in particular, as the world feels as though it is crumbling around us, there was a collective spirit of defiance and hope. This was felt not only through the kaleidoscopic music on stage, but on the couches at the back of the Supernatural Amphitheatre – affectionately known as The Sup’ – to the far reaches of campsites and in the ‘No Dickhead’ policy, which is the very foundation of the temporary community created at each festival. 

In their opening set, Public Figures frontwoman Evie Vlah cut through when she implored the crowd, “The times we are living in are not normal, we need to be together in community in these times”. In the time since the festival, I reflected on that sense of community and the hope that came from it, as we are consumed by global conflict.

I know that there is a certain privilege in the escapism of a festival like Golden Plains. However, moments of coming together feels defiant. Although a song won’t necessarily change the world, change can happen incrementally. It comes through people choosing to come together and mean it.  

The same hope was found in the smoking ceremony and Welcome to Country from Wadawurrung traditional custodians Uncle Barry Gilson and family. These Welcomes always feel like they ground the festival. A festival which at times meanders more than others and explodes its way through all sorts of musical stylings and mayhem. 

Uncle Barry Gilson centered on the importance of International Women's Day this year. And Aunty Tammy Gilson’s words in the Welcome caught me. She said it’s “not just a healing for us, healing for you, healing for the land, it is healing for all. Go gently, respect Country, treat her like she’s your own skin”. It is that sentiment that remained with me through the festival. I’ve carried that care with me through Golden Plains and beyond. 

Public Figures burst onto the stage as though they belonged there, playing their style of buzzsaw wiry punk shot through with just enough glam to make it shimmer. It was evident throughout the set how much playing Golden Plains festival meant to the band. Drummer Gigi Agiro talked about how he and fellow bandleader Evie Vlah had been front row in awe of the bands playing wishing one day that they would get to play on the same stage.

The opening set is a coveted slot for local bands. Once again, Golden Plains nailed it by giving Public figures – a local band on the rise – the opportunity to open the festival, handing over the keys and trusting them to set the tone.

During Public Figures set, flashes on the screen behind them said, “FUCK THIS GENOCIDE, FEMICIDE, ECOCIDE”. There’s a strange duality in standing there, held in the collective rush of live music while knowing, somewhere just out of frame, everything is still burning. Perhaps that’s where the power of it lies, not in escaping reality but in putting a mirror up to the world and coming together. 

Following on from Public Figures was Sidney Phillips authentic take on hip hop, telling stories of lived experience. Then, Georgia Knight’s experimental folk leanings. American band Water From Your Eyes covered a vast musical terrain in a set with a clear message from frontwoman Rachel Brown: “I believe in a free Palestine; I believe in land back. There is peace in our future but only if there is justice, so fuck the US and fuck ICE!” 

Having jumped through varied genre stylings by this point, the Golden Plains audience was warmed up and ready for Obongjayar. His musically tight band provided the platform for the effervescent Obonngjayar who – even in his vulnerable moments – oozed charisma. Like when he dedicated ‘I Wish It Was Me’ to his brother with the refrain "I adore you" (which has been famously sampled by Fred Again). Importantly, Obongjayar reminded the audience that “the world is on fire”, then called on us to “shine light on the world”. “We are hope and we are light,” he said.

By this point in his career, Marlon Williams has cemented himself as one of the great song-writers of our generation. In this setting, I found myself in the midst of a crowd that was in awe. The row of multi coloured lanterns lit up the Sup’, as did Marlon’s performance which was luminous and impassioned. Whether dipping into his back catalogue with his band The Yarra Benders or when joined by Māori performers Ngā Mātai Pūrua to perform songs from his Te Reo Māori album TE WHARE TĪWEKAWEKA (2025), the set was full of spirit. Marlon’s performance filled the crowd with connection: connection to community, land and language. As the unexpected rain started to fall down, there was absolute joy felt amongst the crowd. 

Shifting gears once again, BADBADNOTGOOD brought jazz to the fore. This set marked the band’s return  to the Sup’ after almost a decade, and the collective took the opportunity to showcase how much they had achieved in that time. The set felt like one long jam, during which they nodded their head in tribute to some absolute legends such as J Dilla. BADBADNOTGOOD were adventurous and got the crowd ready to descend into doof. 

Cut Copy’s set highlighted how community and looking out for each other isn’t just something that’s said at Golden Plains, but something which is enacted. As they were putting on a masterclass in euphoric synths, the performance came to an abrupt stop. What followed exemplified the care that is etched into the very essence of this festival, as a medical emergency occurred right in the middle of the crowd. The music stopped as the emergency was swiftly attended to. Afterwards, finishing the set with ‘Hearts On Fire’ and ‘Lights and Music’ jubilation mixed with relief and the crowd moved together again, not just in rhythm but in shared care.

On Sunday morning Kuku Yalanji, Jirrbal and Torres Strait Islander songwriter Kee’ahn eased me into the day with their shimmering jazz-leaning soul and R&B music which had moments that were at once tender and powerful. The song ‘Heavy’ was a highlight, as was their take on Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’ backed by an incredible band. 

Immediately after this was Uncle Barry’s storytelling, where he told of the songline of The Seven Sisters. It was a nice moment to ground myself in Country and the lore of the land. Another reminder of the everpresent connection to Country which is woven through everything. 

The day ripped open when The Gnomes hit the stage. The rising stars from Frankston sound somewhere between the swinging rock and roll of 60s band The Kinks and the punching garage punk of contemporaries such as The Unknowns and Drunk Mums. The quartet were clearly having fun, sharing mics and stomping around the stage. 

Whilst The Gnomes were high energy, the energy was lifted into the stratosphere with Upchuck. Led by Kaila “KT” Thompson on vocals, the band is mostly made up of People of Colour. Their set was ferocious, fast, unrelenting punk that whipped the crowd into a frenzy, bodies colliding in the mosh pit. It upped the ante when drummer Chris Salado took over vocals duties and started singing in Spanish whilst Declan Mehrtens from Amyl and The Sniffers joined on guitar. Upchuck are a band that don’t compromise in their political message and whilst angry, there is also a sense of joy, making the experience of seeing them live cathartic.  

The idea of the personal being political and the intertwined nature of the two is one that I often think about when it comes to music.

It surfaced in different ways across the weekend, especially against the backdrop of a world that feels increasingly volatile. Derya Yıldırım and Grup Şimşek are an Anatolian psych-folk band who mix traditional sounds with their own contemporary edge. When leader of the band Derya spotted a Palestinian flag in the crowd, it prompted them to open up about their own story of displacement as a Turkish person living in Germany, as they reflected on the genocide in Gaza. It reminded us of the dangers of repeating history. 

As the late afternoon sky dipped into golden hour, Bleak Squad – a new band consisting of Australian music legends Adalita, Mick Harvey, Mick Turner and Marty Brown – delivered a masterclass on what my friends and I jokingly described as “adult contemporary emo”. For a new band they are very tight. But that’s hardly surprising considering there’s a lifetime of experience between them, which shows in the way they play with dynamics. It’s the kind of musicianship that doesn’t need to prove anything.

Jalen Ngonda delivered the most feel-good set of the weekend as the last of the light gave way to dusk. His sweet, soulful voice floated effortlessly above the band. A true multi-instrumentalist, it felt as though he chose the instruments to suit the vocal stylings of each song. 

Basement Jaxx were the undeniable drawcard for many, and The Sup’ was packed, heaving with bodies and anticipation. My friends and I drifted toward the back, finding a pocket of space where the view was mostly obscured, but the freedom to move more made up for it as we danced as though no-one was watching. The euphoria was felt deeply throughout – especially as ‘Where’s Your Head At’ boomed out and everyone sang along. 

Joy feels like a balm in a scary world. It’s a thought I kept returning to over the weekend and in the weeks since. A music festival with artists on stage delivering powerful messages, those words might not be resistance in and of itself however it is the act of coming together as a community that can push back against the darkness.

In a time that so often feels heavy with conflict, these gatherings cast a kind of light whilst temporary it is still deeply felt. Music alone doesn’t have the power to change the world, but the community it brings together has potential to push the dial for change. It is from connection and solidarity, a small spark reminds people they’re not alone, and that something different is still possible.

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Written by Will Brussen

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