The weather forecast predicted a cool, sunny 23 degree Friday, which would have been the perfect setting at Flemington Racecourse, a change of venue from the Showgrounds for this year’s Melbourne leg of Soundwave.
Instead, a blazing sun hit the Racecourse, igniting gripe from most of the 65,000-strong crowd, cursing themselves for not bringing sunscreen.
After what seemed like an eternity queuing at the merchandise stand, I finally got my hands on a Soundwave tour tee (a yearly ritual) and met up with a friend before stopping briefly at the first act of the day, Miss May I. “The sign says no moshing. That’s bullshit!” my friend exclaimed, and I had to agree. Given the nature of the festival, which entailed fist-pumping, head-banging action, it would have been utterly ridiculous to think that the organisers could control the crowd just by virtue of a sign alone. After 10 minutes, I left and proceeded to Stone Sour, where my day really started. Vocalist Corey Taylor, of both Stone Sour and Slipknot fame, worked the audience up, giving them the kickstart they needed to see them through the rest of the day.
After Stone Sour came British power metal band Dragonforce. What could have been a potentially fantastic gig was limited by the fact that Dragonforce played under a tent, which created such a relaxed atmosphere that audience participation was restrained. Even guitarist Herman Li had to occasionally gesture the audience to get them going and in the end, I grew weary and left after 20 minutes.
Next up was Slayer. Having caught this quarter of thrash metal’s Big Four at Soundwave 2011 (from afar), which possibly had the most violent audience interaction I had seen that year, I whispered a silent prayer before heading into the front of the crowd. Soon after vocalist Tom Araya came out, front and centre, the entire crowd surged forward, nearly crushing my miniscule five-foot-five frame. However, endurance paid off as I stood my ground, soaking in the music as Slayer belted out hit after hit, including ‘Mandatory Suicide’, ‘South of Heaven’ and ‘Raining Blood’.
Slayer sapped away most of my energy, and a timeout was in order after their gig. Munching on chicken and chips and gulping down Powerade for quick hydration, I explored the rest of the festival, which comprised of carnival rides, other stages and booths selling various merchandise including band tees, shoes and what looked like pseudo-marijuana. Venturing near Stage 2B where Bullet For My Valentine were blasting off, I continued strolling around, walking past a suspiciously empty Stage 4A where O’Brother was playing and feeling especially sorry for them, before proceeding back to Stage 1A.
Around 6pm, metalheads (and I) were queuing impatiently at the barrier leading to the front of Stage 1A, waiting for Blink 182 to finish their set. “There’re only so many swear words and mum jokes you can make between songs, any more and it just gets lame,” I told the girl beside me, and she nodded vehemently. Soon after the barrier opened, the crowd rushed to the front and waited patiently for the next hour and a half before this year’s headliner presented themselves. There was an even bigger surge of the crowd to the front than Slayer, which was, truly, a near-death experience.
Metallica, however, was worth withstanding the multiple body pushes and foot stomps. They performed some of their biggest songs, including ‘Master of Puppets’, ‘One’, ‘Nothing Else Matters’ and ‘Enter Sandman’. Pyrotechnics, balloons and a huge cinema screen lent to the drama of the two-hour gig, making it the best show of the day. Not wanting to squeeze with the exiting crowd after the gig ended, I made the smart move of crowd-surfing all the way to the front while ‘Seek and Destroy’, the last song of the night, was playing and circumvented the crowd all the way to the racecourse entrance with ease.
The day ended with multiple cuts on my knees, a bruised hip and severely strained shoulders, every single one of them a painful but memorable reminder that I’d been part of a truly remarkable music festival. Time to head home and treat my wounds.
