- In recent years, much has been made of the fusion of UK bass, house and techno. In the more closeted psytrance scene, there's been a slower kind of revolution happening: the creeping influence of techno. Gaining momentum some time soon after 2000, it saw artists like Son Kite and Spirallianz cross over to find success as Minilogue and Extrawelt. But not everyone has been inclined, or able to, pull of this feat. As a result, traditional techno acts have found themselves increasingly in demand at psytrance festivals across the globe. Just look at Japan's Labyrinth. Once a pure psytrance event, it's now recognised as one of the best techno festivals in the world.
Photo credit: Asher Floyd
Australia has not been immune to this trend. Strawberry Fields was first held in 2009, with only a few local techno acts dotting the trance-dominated bill. This year, along with international counterparts like Floating Points and Kollektiv Turmstrasse, they constituted more than half of the program. The festival's organisers have long been passionate about techno; that they're just now making so much room for the genre indicates how radically the crowds at bush "doofs"—traditionally the domain of diehard hippies—are changing. Ironically, it was this shift which garned the most complaints from attendees at this year's edition of the three-day, weekend-long festival.
Traipsing through the dust-caked camping grounds, one was just as likely to hear blaring gangsta rap as something techno- or trance-flavoured. Likewise, beer-bong-toting teenagers and vacant, rubbish-strewn campsites were common sights; a far cry from the traditional attitudes found at such parties—respect for others, moderate alcohol use and environmental sensitivity. Post-event, the promoters blamed the bulk of these problems on a horde of gatecrashing (i.e. non-paying) locals; an irreproachable explanation given the occasional fish-out-of-water groups seen drinking sullenly at the edges of the dance floor. With the festival held on the border of Victoria and New South Wales, four hours' drive from Melbourne and close to several action-starved country towns, it was most likely inevitable.
Photo credit: Asher Floyd
The location itself—smack bang in the middle of a strawberry growing region, hence the alluring name—has its ups and downs. Being such a long way from Melbourne, it's hard for 9-to-5ers to get the best from the festival, though perhaps that's the point. For example, two of the biggest headliners, Baths and Tycho, played from 9:30 PM on the Friday night, necessitating a marathon drive and after-dark tent pitching for those unable to get the day off. Similarly, Teebs and Floating Points closed from 6 PM on the Sunday night, when many had undoubtedly left for home.
Once on-site, however, there wasn't much to want for. The private farm's roads may have been rutted and the campgrounds somewhat devoid of open space, but they were minor foibles when compared with the village of delicious and well-priced food stalls, quirky clothing shops and bars selling frosty tap beer and cider. Food and alcohol were BYO, but with temperatures approaching 40°C on Saturday, it seemed much more fun to buy things like frozen fruit on site. At most festivals, this is a pain. Drink cards get lost, or result in a ton of unused credit. Cash can be hard to carry, and easy to misplace. At Strawberry, the site was brilliantly served by the Crowd9 system. Each attendee received a tough, plastic coated wristband, printed with a unique barcode. Using dedicated stalls, any amount of money could be added to wristbands, for later subtraction at bars. No droppable wallets, no left over credit. Genius.
Photo credit: Asher Floyd
It's not the kind of logistical nous you might expect from a festival which has been famously dogged by criticism. This year, there was little of that nature to report. On the main stage, James Holden's four hour set went off without a hitch, spanning everything from Daphni's "Ye Ye," to typically uplifting Orbital and this beauty from 1980. The following day, again at sunset, Kollektiv Turmstrasse's gentle, organic melodies led more to contented smiles than cheers, but the crowd seemed to appreciate the German duo just as much, especially as they closed with "Tristesse." For house and techno fans, however, this main stage held only fleeting thrills—Darius Bassiray, for example—amongst a parade of thumping trance. The festival's best moments were found at the smaller Back of Burke stage, which was mostly a local affair.
These ranged from the low-slung disco of The Francis Inferno Orchestra, to the shiny house favoured by Melbourne vet Aram, and the somewhat facile tunes of Moodmachine, such as their own "Neo Soul." It wasn't a paragon of consistency, but then, it's hard to be when the music runs for close to three days. The final day—Sunday—was about as ideal as could be wished for. Local producer The Tortoise—who released his second 12-inch with 3rd Strike Records this year—opened the morning strongly, dropping deep and slow disco to a tired-looking crowd. Sleep D continued in a similar vein, throwing in a few of their own productions and successfully glossing over the effects of skipping needles and faulty wiring at the back of the mixer. By then, it had really begun to heat up, and the festival's water-spraying truck—usually trailed by a gaggle of sweat-soaked patrons—stopped by to douse the entire dance floor.
Photo credit: Fiona McGregor
Faced with a slightly more refreshed crowd, next up was the Out of Focus crew, who recently bought Steffi and Levon Vincent to play at their parties in Melbourne. On this occasion, they were joined by Detroit's Patrice Scott and Perlon-signing Portable. The two imports performed well, Scott trickling mellifluous snatches of chords out to the crowd amongst more heads-down cuts, while Portable's live set—which included himself on vocals—offered something substantially different, yet just as exciting. These efforts were matched by local jock Louis McCoy, who opened with Beanfield's "Tides," and blew through Benedikt Frey's "Closer" on his way to an atmosphere laden-set, as well as his friends Bryce Lawrence, Unfettered and Wael, and their similarly eclectic record bags.
Photo credit: Fiona McGregor
With the Back of Burke stage finishing so strongly, it was all too easy to forget the occasional negatives experienced earlier in the weekend. At heart, Strawberry is still a hippie doof, even if house and techno have become a significant part of its identity. With this heritage at its back, respect, openness, and self-deprecation remain predominant aspects of the experience. Not many other techno festivals around the world would be lighthearted enough to host a Fashions on the Field parody, for instance. It may still finding its feet, but after well and truly ironing out the organisational wrinkles of its first three years, Strawberry Fields looks to have big things ahead of it.