From the moment you walked into Perth's Langley Park (14 April), it was clear this was going to be a full-scale festival experience.
The hyped crowd rushed through the gates, already buzzing with energy and excitement. For a split second, I thought: 'Oh no! Is my body ready for this level of energy?'How naive of me to ever doubt Fatboy Slim would bring anything less than an absolute party. In this case, it is quite literally following the narrative in 'Eat Sleep Rave Repeat'.
DJ Seinfeld's high-energy opening set kept the crowd in the right headspace as we tackled chaotic drink lines and navigated the sea of bodies, searching for the perfect spot to dance for the next two hours.
The visual fanfare began with a red stage curtain parting in a grand reveal of Norman Cook's iconic smiley face, but this time, it wasn't its usual round, perky self.
Instead, it was replaced with something more rebellious, a melting skull smiley with white wings, watching over us like a rave guardian of chaos. Gene Wilder's 'Pure Imagination' providing a whimsical invitation into the wonkiest night ahead.
In perfect Fatboy Slim fashion, his own voice echoed over the crowd: "I'm in Perth, bitch," as the bass took hold. The visuals were pure, unfiltered chaos. A hyperactive, ADHD-fuelled pop culture overload that made no sense and every kind of sense at the same time.
Faces morphed and melted onscreen: Joaquin Phoenix as the Joker twisting into Bowie, then Greta Thunberg. Gorillaz jammed on instruments while Norman Cook's cartoon brain oozed neon slime, pulsing and warping like it was processing the madness in real-time. Giant eyeballs stared into the crowd; an AI-generated version of the dude from the 'You've Come A Long Way, Baby' album cover boogied across the screen, shapeshifting into. . . god, who even knows!
Fatboy Slim's iconic smiley face reigned supreme, melting into liquid gold, dropping as smiley-faced bombs from zeppelins over a surrealist battlefield of rave culture bliss. My friend turned to me, bewildered. "I don't really get the visuals?!" However, that was the whole point. They weren't meant to be understood; just continue onto your next rave thought: "I'm just dancing, I'm just raving, I'm just repeating."
Hands were then in the air. That's exactly where they were as the first beat dropped, along with the rest of the crowd. The energy took hold and suddenly, we were all moving with no hesitation or restraint. We were just pure, unfiltered energy.
Fatboy Slim didn't just play songs; he manipulated them, bending time and sound into a relentless, intoxicating rollercoaster. 'Right Here, Right Now', 'Praise You', 'Weapon Of Choice': each warped into something fresh, yet deeply familiar.
Tracks didn't just play; they appeared, morphed, and vanished like flashes of memory, giving us only a lyric, a hook, a tease. 'My Name Is' by Eminem flickered in for a moment, 'I Like The Way You Move' hit with a single line before vanishing into the next beat – just enough to set the crowd off before yanking us in another direction.
'Baddadan' hit heavy, followed by Fatboy Slim's remix of 'Jus' Come' and the relentless affirmations of 'Sinner Winner' – the kind of beats that don't just fill a space but consume it. Relentless transitions left us no breathers or lulls, just a constant build and perfect storm of movement and sound.
The defining moment of the night, 'Born Slippy' collided with 'Mr. Brightside' detonating in a nostalgic explosion. The entire park surged with voices singing in unison, every nerve pinging as we screamed every lyric like it was the last song we'd ever hear, building until it all peaked in a collective euphoric climax.
The biggest wait-what moment of the night? The bizarre venue layout. The lawn front-standing area closest to the stage looked busy, yet metres of empty space stretched between it and general admission, who were crammed behind a fence past the sound booth – an unexpected and oddly disjointed setup.
People kept pushing forward, thinking they were getting closer to the stage, only to slam into the barricade. The moment of realisation was comedy gold every time: a slight pause, a blank stare, an expletive, before the awkward shuffle backward. Whether it was a failed ticketing strategy, the weather, a safety precaution or just bad planning, it left the crowd feeling oddly divided and slightly annoyed at the wasted space.
The rain came, drizzling at first to barely there, but instead of killing the vibe, it amplified it. Each drop fuelling the crowd, sending us to another level of movement, hands reaching higher, feet stomping harder. Every time it picked up, the cheers followed, a collective embrace of the moment.
The city lights, from the high-rise apartments along the foreshore, framed the scene, with people spilling onto balconies, watching the spectacle from above. They might have been dry, but I can say with conviction, nothing beats the energy of being front and centre, drenched in the music, the moment, the madness.
As the full moon in Virgo rose, the energy shifted, loosening inhibitions and making everyone a little saucier and sassier. Everyone giving in to the cosmic invitation to let go. Though it wasn't quite the 'summer's biggest outdoor rave' as promised, the magic was undeniable.
For a moment, it was as if we were on Ko Pha Ngan, under neon skies at one of its legendary full moon parties; only this time, the beach was replaced by a rain-soaked dance floor, and the waves were made of bass.
Somewhere in the madness, between bass drops and visuals melting into each other, it felt like the only words that mattered were the ones that kept echoing, looping, hammering into us. All he kept saying was: Eat. Sleep. Rave. Repeat. That's exactly what we did as we started winding to the conclusion with 'The Rockafeller Skank', every 'Funk Soul Brother & Sister' shouting in unison and clapping in time.
It was one of those rare moments where the music, the people, and the energy align so perfectly that it becomes something bigger than just a gig – it becomes a memory imprinted. Even as we walked into the night, the song was still pulsing in my head, carrying me into the weekend.
Fatboy Slim delivered a full-blown, rain-drenched, full-moon rave, mixing nostalgia with raw energy and chaos with precision. As his final iconic yellow smiley face flickered one last time on the screen, I couldn't help but smile back. Rain-soaked and exhilarated, we left knowing we'd just been part of something special.
