Good Things Festival returned to Flemington Racecourse, Melbourne, with the kind of scale that takes a moment to process.
The grounds felt endless, stretching out in long strips of sunlit grass and bitumen. Vast crowds moved through it in constant motion. Even with an enormous turnout, it never felt suffocating.
Instead it felt like a sprawling migration of impassioned people rushing between its five stages with purpose and radiant expectation. This was not one of those relaxed, lounge-on-the-grass festivals. Everyone had a timetable mentally locked in and a sense that if they slowed down, they might miss that vital anthem that soundtracked their life through the years.
The atmosphere of urgency was lifted by the sheer variety of people weaving through the site. Some wore as little as possible to beat the heat. Others went all in with costumes.
A samurai Ronald McDonald wandered past, followed by a pair of full-body sentient traffic cones, the Teletubbies, a pair of tacos, and a man painted entirely in blue. It gave the day a strange, carnivalesque openness and acceptance. People seemed cheerful, chatty and in on the shared joke.
New Found Glory - image © Mike Lockheart
The schedule had already been hit with drama before gates opened. Knocked Loose and The All American Rejects both pulling out at the eleventh hour for unrelated emergencies.
Knocked Loose were to be replaced by Alpha Wolf who then also pulled out on the morning of the festival. Their replacement, Thornhill, became something of a hero story.
The crowd welcomed them with genuine excitement and the buzz around their set spread quickly. By the time Machine Head took the stage, Robb Flynn was congratulating them publicly, calling the situation "incredibly rock & roll" and the crowd roared in agreement.
New Found Glory opened the day for many punters. Their bright, punchy set cut straight through the early afternoon cloud as thousands poured in behind them. Windwaker followed with a confident, sharpened heaviness that hit harder than expected.
With the sky then washed in harsh sunlight, lighting rigs across the festival struggled to make an impact. Everything felt flattened by brightness for the first few hours.
Refused arrived with the weight of finality. This, amongst their last ever tours and the last time Australia will see them. The energy was tense at first, almost reverent, then exploded the moment Dennis Lyxzén began to move.
He is still magnetic, still unpredictable, one shocking heart attack later, and the band tore through their set with the urgency of a group who know every show from here is a closing chapter. It felt significant, like witnessing something vanish as it happens.
Wargasm - image © Mike Lockheart
Wargasm hit next, wild and messy in a deliberate way that thrilled the crowd. Then came GWAR, who somehow thrived in full daylight. Their mix of blood cannons, absurd violence and alien theatrics thickened the air with red mist and laughter. They were a spectacle in the truest sense and the audience leaned into every ridiculous second.
Machine Head brought a different gravity. Their performance was tight, powerful and anchored by Robb Flynn's steady control. Even people passing by slowed down and were pulled in. The set felt monumental without tipping into self-seriousness.
All Time Low shifted the vibe sharply, offering the first true break from the festival's intensity. Their set was lighthearted and melodic, and felt like a palate cleanser after the barrage of heavier acts.
Garbage followed with one of the most talked-about sets of the day, though not entirely for the right reasons. Musically, they were sharp and atmospheric, with Shirley Manson's voice cutting cleanly through the early evening air.
Midway through the set, however, things took an unexpected turn when Manson singled out a man in the crowd and launched into a tirade. She threatened to have the band's crew "come down and beat him up," and even mocked the size of his endowment in front of the entire audience – all for daring to lighten the mood of the day by holding a beach ball.
The moment felt jarring, uncomfortable and oddly out of step with the otherwise upbeat and communal vibe of the festival. The band recovered musically, but the outburst lingered, colouring what was otherwise a confident and polished performance.
Weezer - image © Mike Lockheart
Weezer's arrival triggered a wave of nostalgia. The whole crowd seemed to soften as familiar choruses rolled out one after another. Rivers Cuomo barely needed to ask for help. People were already singing.
TOOL closed the festival with slow, deliberate immersion. Their early songs struggled against the last light of the day, but as soon as darkness settled and the lasers cut through the sky, everything shifted.
The visuals finally snapped into place and the performance became hypnotic and otherworldly. It was less like watching a band and more like being absorbed into some vast mechanical dream.
TOOL - image © Mike Lockheart
Good Things this year felt huge, restless and constantly alive. The heat never dipped, the costumes never stopped appearing and the energy carried through right to the final shimmering note of TOOL's set.
