Heading along the scenic Yarra River Walk after his set at Parklife is Shepparton wunderkind Muscles. He pulls a massive case on wheels and calls out to a sibling, “Where did Mum say she’d pick us up again?” Quality. It’s a long wait to get in and several scammers are knocked back: their wristbands break apart when tugged at by security, each blob of Bluetac failing to deceive the gatekeepers.

It appears the hillside has vomited fleuoro and the spew is mainly overflow from the Water Tent (home of electro). Strangely it seems one should wear black in order to stand out these days – even in Melbourne. Many a pair of imitation Polaroid sunnies (often also fluoro!) mask dilated pupils but those unprepared for the ideal, sunny festival conditions sport the latest black-iris protection. Since the Water Tent’s swamped, it’s off to the Air Stage for some Scratch Perverts action. The vibe here is rocking. Blasting drum n’ bass stylings force arms and legs akimbo, and it’s all smiles on dials. Strangers beam at me in the well-organised bar queue with profits are set to soar – Smirnoff Double Blacks are a whopping $9 with drink cards at $10 so store up nine used cards to exchange for a drink. I’m sober and I can’t even decode the holes punched in each card!

It’s time to form a human chain and negotiate the walkway bound for electro mayhem. The punters resemble Summer Heights High on casual clothes day and they’re equally as random. A member of my entourage bursts into the centre of a circle of rambunctious youngsters and yells, “Chill the fuck out!” I remind her we’re on a dancefloor but she insists their behavior is way out of line. The stage is fenced off with metal barriers to protect the artists from these wild animals.

Purveyors of electronic video-game-style bleeps MSTRKRFT tear it up. This Canadian duo is so unique they’ve invented a new language: rendering vowels obsolete and translating their names into T.L.As (Three Letter Abbreviations to the uniniatiated) – ALP and JFK. The latter is a behemoth resplendent in slicked-down nerdy hairdo, manicured porn moustache and aviator sunglasses. Their own tracks Work On You and Easy Love inspire a feeding frenzy in the zoo. Limbs become a blur as they drop their own cranking remixes including D.A.N.C.E. by Justice; Listen Up by The Gossip; and Wolfmother’s Woman, the crème de la crème of recent Aussie anthems, finishes us off.

Two gargantuan inflatable packing noodles are suspended from the roof and one of them has already deflated. A daredevil scales the deflated giant’s condom while another tackles the lighting rig. An announcement is made over the PA that unless these primates climb back down the music will be turned off. NYPC’s Icecream receives a rapturous response and it is with a sense of accomplishment that MSTRKRFT pump out the lyrics, “I can give you what you want”. That they have.

Germany’s Digitalism cut straight into it before we can bemoan the passing of MSTRKRFT’s well crafted set. Their accompanying visuals are breathtaking: endless silhouettes of jogging figures shuffle across the screens in sync with simulated heartbeat monitors. Perfect optical stimuli to match their digital arpeggios. New Order’s Blue Monday belts out two tracks in and no more need be said.

For fear of getting too comfortable, we tread over to catch Lyrics Born. There’s plenty of dancing space and Calling Out live is something everyone should experience in their lifetime – “People are you rea-day…” Hell yes! There’s nothing quite like the American artist’s gee-up repartee: “This is the first Parklife and Mel-BORN, I wanna be able to say that you held it down!” We nearly lift the roof off but he remains dissatisfied. What is it about festivals that make us so bloody patriotic? Repeated requests for us to “Make some noise” don’t achieve half of the reaction Lyrics Born elicits when he makes mention of his first live album which was partly recorded in Melbourne, Overnight Encore: Lyrics Born Live!. But by this stage we’re all having a ball and in fact one of my posse is taken by surprise when a football finds her face at full force on her way out of the tent.

Eager for an outdoor vibe, it’s off to the Earth Stage and we’re rewarded with some “Sweet, sweet drum’n’bass music” courtesy of NZ’s Shapeshifter. Their syncopated beats are perfectly punctuated by fireworks over the Yarra River and it’s tempting to stay but time for M.I.A. With a sassy presence like a mash-up of Peaches and Lady Sovereign, M.I.A combusts onto the stage. Never one to shy away from controversy, she explains that in order to have her visa approved she was required to sign a written statement acknowledging she wouldn’t “commit any terrorist acts”. She then takes out a piece of paper and burns it onstage. The crowd cheer, suddenly un-Australian.

Her backing vocalists look like space-age gladiators and it’s hard to keep up with the sonic tapestry – Justice We Are Your Friends, Eurythmics Sweet Dreams – it’s all woven in. The electronic full-bodied, brass sounds of Big Branch lead to much booty shaking and a cast of thousands are invited onto the stage. “Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, Nah-nah-nah! Boyz there, how many?” Boyz etches itself into our brains and an over-excited stage invader returns to the pit sans footwear. She doesn’t seem to mind at first, but as 10 o’clock approaches panic spreads across her face at the prospect of pounding the concrete jungle unshod.

The sudden finish and fervent eviction of tens of thousands of grisly casualties into Melbourne’s CBD calls to mind Night Of The Living Dead. Huddles reassemble and discuss Justice vs. M.I.A and it seems there was 10 minutes silence during his set thanks to an imbecile climbing the lighting rig – the sounds of silence falling on deaf ears. The nearest bottle shop fills to capacity like the last chance for survival in a one-off bomb shelter as bemused staff helplessly look on. There will be post-mortems for hours yet of a well-organised day of fun and frivolity in the park.