I’ll admit to being nervous. There was something that did not feel quite right about Freedom Festival – perhaps it was the set times with clashing genres and short DJ sets; perhaps it was the bizarre amount of hatred coming from certain forums; perhaps it was the feeling that this was an attempt to cash-in on Sydney’s current obsession with festivals. Whatever it was, the nerves were jangling. Freedom Festival is the new boy on the festival circuit and had something to prove.

Boasting a rather formidable and eclectic line-up of performers all staged at one of Sydney’s favourite venues; at the very least this would be interesting. It was clear moments after walking inside the venue that the promoters had pulled out all stops to take this event to another level. The Hordern was being utilised in a way that perhaps has never been done before, with the DJ booth thrusting out into the middle of the arena. In fact, the booth was actually placed on a rotating platform, creating an almost interactive stage for the DJ, quite reinventing the space. It felt like walking into an arena spectacular.

We arrived just in time to head over to the second stage, inside Byron Kennedy Hall, where one of the first headliners Luke Fair was about to kick off. He wasted no time dropping into the groove, opening up his remarkably short set with John Dahlback’s Pyramid. For the next hour, he dished out some tasty big-room house creating the perfect festival vibe to a mixed crowd that simultaneously looked excited and disinterested by the Canadian DJ. I could not help but wonder where he would have taken the music if given more time. Genres were largely ignored on this stage, as the DJ line-up meandered from house through to NRG and trance as the night progressed. In the same venue a couple of hours later, Alex K was banging out a high-NRG version of Roger Sanchez’s Another Chance, accompanied by what looked like his Dad on guitar. I didn’t like it, so left.

Back over at the Hordern, Arno Cost and Norman Dorey had taken the reins of the circular DJ vehicle and were treating the considerable crowd to a set of massive house tunes. There was a bit of Delirium, there was a bit of Pjanoo, there was a taste of their own cracker tune Magenta, and there were plenty of screaming people with their hands in the air. Pyrotechnics, blasts of smoke, dancing girls, fake snow, lasers and flying angels – it seemed that the promoters were going for sensory overload and the crowd responded. Up next was the svelte chanteuse Luciana, who enthralled the crowd with her awesome pipes over some up-for-it party tunes from Bodyrox.

Probably the coolest thing happening on the night was the silent disco. I initially thought this was just a creatively named space but it turned out to be exactly what the name implies (if you went to Future Music Festival this year you’ll be familiar with the concept). A room full of people dancing in silence. How? Walking in to the little arena (an inflatable igloo I’ll have you know), everyone is handed a set of wireless headphones. You then select one of two channels to listen to, matching up to one of the two corresponding DJs spinning tunes. This really was the ultimate in Generation Y DJing: designed for those with short attention spans. As soon as a track became stale, a quick flick of the switch on you cans would send you onto a new tune and a new groove. It became a quasi DJ battle as both DJs started competing for their share of nodding heads. As you can imagine, the party tunes were being busted out at a relentless pace. It was also highly entertaining removing the headphones to watch people gyrating to the sounds of silence.

Yes, all the trappings were there, but somehow Freedom felt more like a superclub on steroids than a fully-fledged festival; what one imagines the big clubs in Ibiza to be like. The music was unashamedly party-focused without much flow ever being considered, partially due to no DJ being given the time to do anything other than bang out massive tunes. There was great attention to detail, innovation and quite superb production. That being said, Freedom was more like a porn star than high-fashion model; flashy, alluring, ready for a good time and able to deliver the goods with disturbing professionalism. Ultimately, though, it was a little light on substance.