Rain rain go away,
Come again another day

Melbournians are definitely not strangers to the city’s bi-polar weather conditions. What was originally a morning of sunshine, turned into a merciless storm spilling over from the previous day’s frantic hailstorms. Yet, with a common uniform of gumboots and ponchos (as well as plenty of sleeve-tatts and fake tan), Future Music goers kept their chins up and their dancing shoes on.

Despite the inevitable storm, attendance showed no signs of waning. The mouth-watering line-up, glued on the city walls for the past two months, made the event too good to pass up. Littered across 5 stages was a smorgasbord of genres, catering to all of Melbourne’s party scenes. Above & Beyond and Super8 and Tab satisfied the cravings of tranceheads at the A&B stage whilst the more Techno inclined had the privilege of Dubfire, Sven Väth and John Digweed playing one after the other in the Likes of You tent. These all go without mentioning the headline acts, such as legendary big beaters, The Prodigy, David Guetta and live duo Booka Shade.

This amount of talent, ridiculous when seen listed on a poster can sometimes have its downfall when the sobering timetable is released. The inevitable, heartbreaking clashes and the reality of it all having to be packed into 8-10 hours, sometimes makes it day of compromises and time management rather than unabashed partying. However, the proposition of choosing between Boyznoise, Booka Shade or The Prodigy at the end of the night is not exactly a poor man’s predicament.

Earlier in the day I wasn’t so ambivalent, with Dubfire playing the Likes of You tent. Surrounded by a wall of LED lights, the skeletal Iranian-American released his hissing dark-house sounds out into the world. With deep drives, and whipping snare cracks he had the warmed-up crowd in the palm of his hand by the end of the two hours. Even with a less ominous sound than I expected (at one point surprising me with the Donna Summer disco classic “I Feel Love”) I, along with everyone else under the cover could not stop the jig.

With a quick meantime glimpse at Erick Morillo’s set on the main stage it gave the impression of a true summer festival. Drinking the 10 dollar bar drinks, and rolling about the lawns, the crowd loved the kind of cheesy vocal house you’d play driving along the coast with your sunroof open. People were definitely making the most of the sun and sounds of a pre-storm era.

Seeking refuge back in the Likes of You tent, Dubfire wound down, passing the baton onto Frankfurter, Sven Väth. Hailed with thunderous applause before having even done anything the Cocoon boss had an aura of Frankie Wilde from the It’s All Gone Pete Tong. Before laying it on the table, he’d frequently raise the vinyl up in the air as if to say, “fuckin’ get ready for this one, people!” His antics and stories of playing surprise house parties earlier on the tour had made him a crowd favourite- the people’s DJ. Playing with a more house sensibility than his predecessor, and playing tune after tune, it made me forget the timetable and who I could be seeing instead.

As well as transporting the Frankfurt sound to Melbourne, he managed to summons its miserable climate along with it. Peering outside the covers of the tent the apocalyptic clouds had opened up upon Future Music. At the time those in Väth’s domain were happy to remain so, admittedly smiling at those stuck on other stages. Suddenly donning a horned Viking helmet, the self-effacing DJ presented a stage persona more enjoyable than any other I’ve seen. Pulling up a banner from the crowd showing everyone the words “Gude Laune” (high spirits) inscribed on it, summed up the carefree vibe he generates at his parties.

To ensure I got the true Future experience and that I would make the 3 dollars I spent on my poncho worthwhile, I left the tent to brave the elements. I was to only find the enclosure to the tent area shut off by security. This meant no one could leave or enter. The festival took on a bizarre scene, with utterings of stages being shut down and people jumping fences. The gate that was being held back a few strongman security guards couldn’t handle the desire of a few hundred partiers who stampeded through.

With all the anarchy put to rest I headed to the main stage. ‘The man who can work with anyone in the world if he wants to’, David Guetta, played his beloved selection of tracks to a very drenched audience. Admittedly not a huge Guetta fan, I appreciated the entertainment value in his set. Playing universal favourites like *Zombie Nation*’s Kernkraft 400, and his endearing accent yelling things like “Australia!” and “How you doing?!” made me dance as much as smile and think, “this guy’s alright.” Although, he lost a bit of the audience when he asked them to all pull out their phones, seemingly oblivious to the fact that it was still pouring.

Keen to catch the last hour of Digweed’s set I scurried through the mud, turning my once white shoes to a muddy black. The tent had now taken on the atmosphere of an epic rave, dark and surrounded by storms. This was enhanced by Digweed’s cosmic progressive sound and the psychedelic visuals put up on the screens. Droning build ups that lasted longer than expected and plenty of white noise settling on top of it, it was a definite contrast to the set we’d just seen- no regard for accessibility, and all about the journey.

With a tough task of deciding to see Booka Shade over the Prodigy (with the cancellation of Boyznoise making the decision easier as well), I eventually remained after Digweed’s set when scenery was raised, revealing the lit-up spheres and the two Get Physical heads, Arno and Walter. Immediately sinking their teeth into their distinctive live show they played newer tracks like Charlotte and Bad Love which had the tired looking, somewhat immobile crowd still bopping and fist-pumping. Then the pinnacle of the set came with the well-known triple off Movements- Mandarine Girl, In White Rooms and Body Language in that order. As much as it seemed like a ritual for them to reel off these tracks, the basic melodies they produce are ones that are incapable of turning stale. A perfect exhibition in less is more.

After the last track was dropped and the lights went down, people from all stages converged on a wet mission to get home. On a day with so many artists and choices (maybe too many) it was the weather that was the only truly unifying experience. Whatever persuasion of music you had, maybe it was a higher power’s way of saying to everyone there; “Summer festival season is over. Go home”. Well, if so, the message was jubilantly ignored.