Not to put too fine a point on it, but while I was sitting on the grass under the main tent of the ‘Rock the Vote’ festival on the weekend, I found myself questioning the validity of spewing political hyperbole at a crowd of drunken, drugged or outright dopey youths who probably wouldn’t know ‘right-wing’ from a chicken wing. However, the political spin on the festival granted artists carte blanche to raise, at least, fists (if not awareness) with comments containing the words “Howard” and “arsehole” so it served a valid purpose (I’ll refrain from injecting my personal politics on the topic into this review).

The day kicked off with a set from ACE and a session from scene favourite DJ Sampology, both of which I missed. Likewise, the set from California’s Pigeon John and Sampology’s second spin. Sorry if you were dying to read about these acts, but really, if you were that keen you’d have been there yourself.

I did manage to catch a rousing slot from Melbourne group True Live. This Frankensteinian outfit’s mix of Hip Hop, Swing Jazz and Groove, while not, strictly speaking, my scene did manage to catch and hold my attention, keeping my foot tapping through their set. I’d definitely enjoy seeing these guys again, and I’d encourage anyone who enjoys a higher level of smarts and panache with their music to check them out.

Sitting on the playlist, nestled neatly between ‘True Live’ and the next main-stage act, Resin Dogs was DJ Nick Toth. As to whether or not he was any good, or even if he played at all, I am in no position to vouch, being on the hunt for palatable food as I was at this point in the day.

Resin Dogs hit the stage more or less on schedule and, if Dave Atkins is to be believed, delivered their worst set ever, plagued as it was with numerous technical difficulties (I would hazard to suggest that this was more in Dave’s mind than a reality and that the technicians were, in fact, plagued by Dave Atkins problems… but then, that’s Dave). I’ve heard it said that you never know how many people are at a concert until ‘Resin Dogs’ hit the stage, and Rock the Vote was no exception; the symbiotic flow of energy set up between the band and the rapidly swelling crowd was infectious. Musically sharp (despite Dave’s antics) R.D. had the crowd bouncing effortlessly for the duration of their set. Well done boys.

At this point my notes contain one page with the words “THEYHAD NO COKE” scrawled in large letters. I’m assuming this was during a trip to one of the designated drinking areas and in response to Tezzy’s subtle displeasure at the fact (I also, knowing Tez, assume she was referring to the beverage not the drug).

Up next was Lyrics Born. This act which consists basically of the namesake frontman and some other people he deigns to share his stage with. These guys win, hands down, the award for the prettiest and best dressed group on the bill. Even the bassist. All immaculate couture and American arrogance, they browbeat a reticent audience into a halfhearted enthusiasm, even going so far as to stop a track soon after starting it in order to cajole a more egotistically satisfying response from the punters. Even though the music was competently delivered, if not inspiring, this behaviour was not cool, not cool at all.

Spiderbait brought this jaded rocker a much needed break from the Hip Hop and Groove flavour of the day and soothed any ill-feeling germinating in the crowd after Lyrics Born by building an instant and tangible rapport. With a sound sharper than expected in the open-air setting they ground out a set that rocked most of the crowd off their grass-covered asses, sending some of the more Indie minded into paroxysms of rapture, busting out early favourites like ‘Buy me a Pony’ and ‘Sunshine on My Window’. They finished the set with an extended rendition of ‘Black Betty’, sending the crowd away happier than some of them had been all day.

Soma Rasa then took it upon themselves to ease the jarred sensibilities of the dance crowd by putting on a set full to bursting with energy. Both the music and the crowd went off in a frenzy not unlike the antics of a raver on a methamphetamine crank (actually, now that I think about it…). The music was sharp, the vocals were on the money and the overall effect was lost on none. Soma Rasa easily inspired, by far, the biggest and longest-lasting dance-pit of the day.

Brisbane’s own The Butterfly Effect brought their bleak black-leather brand of rock’n’roll to the RNA stage with their usual aplomb. Nary a note was missed in this set and the boys set hearts and souls ablaze with almost casual ease (amazing, considering they played the Tivoli on the Thursday night, schlepped up to Hervey Bay for a Friday night gig, and raced back to Bris-Vegas to put their two-cents worth into the Rock the Vote cause on Saturday). A sterling effort, indeed and one that anybody who calls themselves a fan should be ashamed to have missed.

Keeping the rock flame alive, Shihad burst onto the stage with characteristic chuzpah, grabbing mics and instruments alike with a fervor not seen in prior acts. Jonny Toogood was his usual manic self, driving out lyrics with throat-ripping intensity and his bandmates followed his lead faithfully. The dirty guitar sounds these guys love so much didn’t translate so well in the open acoustics, but the crowd got down on every filthy chord anyways. The boys from across the Tasman rocked Brisbane that night, and rocked it well.

...Oh yeah, and Peter Garrett was there and said some stuff. But let’s face it, everyone there was there for the music.