Holy Shit… FBI Turns 10!
I was pretty damn excited for FBI’s 10 birthday party. To begin with I knew a heap of friendly faces there, I knew a few of the acts playing, and I knew those acts were amazing, and to top it all off FBI asked Backyard Opera to come along! And what a place to hold a music event! Carriageworks is one of the most rarely tapped gems of Sydney, and FBi has left us wondering why the hell there isn’t more happening there? Recently you might have caught the Ryoji Ikeda work on display there, but it’s rarely used to the full potential that last Sunday demonstrated. The place looks beautiful, there’s a lot of potential for styling, (such as the bubbles that graced the path to the main stage all day), it’s still inner city, near Sydney University, so it’s easy to get to, and when the sun hits that place just right... it sings. It also feels underground as fuck when the trains cruise past the performers, definitely in a good way.
From admiring the eclectic and amazing dance moves of the (potentially) “sea-punk” duo Collarbones, to fist pumping at Presets, everyone’s tastes were covered, unless you’re purely a jazz fan, in which case you’re tastes were not covered. Additionally there were so many little treats that Sydney veterans and romantics would have been sure to savor. Like Joyride, the DJ who you can usually catch sitting back and playing the meanest Hip Hop on any day of the week at GoodGod, got up on the mic to sing a verse during the Naughty Rappers Collective session. On top of that some of Sydney’s brightest talents like Seekae, Fishing (they always look so in love) and Oliver Tank, played some amazing shows. If you had a pair of glasses, or retinas that could shrivel to the size of a pin, you might have been able to bask in the luminous brilliance of light/sound shows that groups like Naysayer and Gilsun, and Sampology consistently nail. They were blindly aggressive, in the indoor stages.
As with a lot of festivals, the token system seemed designed so that, unless you’re a John Nash, mathematical genius, you’re doomed to be left with one or half of a (non-refundable) token. I felt bad calling the poor dude selling tickets a dickhead. After all he had to deal with thousands of colourful 20 something, drunk or peaking or both. Having had to deal with a few of these colorful people myself, like one guy who told me he started smoking meth (after being voted the best cuddler in Annandale) with a Ralph model who wanted to lose weight. However in a stunning reflection of the 8,000 who showed up, even the meth head was charming, letting us smoke his flavored E-Hookah (sheesha, or at least we hope).
It definitely beats my usual Sunday, watching Seinfeld reruns and recovering from Saturday. So thank you FBi, from what I hear, Sydney is calling for you to make it an annual event, please listen.
- Al Kalyk