The iconic music festival Creamfields has been providing an outdoor arena for clubbing kids and musical youth since 1998. Hailing from the UK, it has branched across every continent, and in 2010, world domination is complete with four festivals in Australia. After killer shows in Sydney, Perth, and Brisbane earlier this month, its finale played out in Melbourne.

The Melbourne Showgrounds played host to the masses, with five undercover stages, amusement rides (dodgem cars and a sky chair swing), and ample rows of portaloos. The day was blessed with the kind of blue skies better seen in the heart of summer, and the only signs of winter were a slight crispness in the air – just enough to cool the sweaty masses. They collectively streamed from the train station which saw punters directly into the Showgrounds. By the time the sky blackened and the strobe lights were at full force, the venue seemed packed. Defying a coherent stereotype, the Melbournites came out in various styles. A notable hipster in attendance was Cobrasnake (aka Mark Hunter). The frenzy for this party photographer was extreme.

With a drink in my hand and feet itching to kick up some dirt, I headed to The Circus Tent that served as The Main Stage, catching a glimpse of popular house duo TVROCK. Noted for their catchy remixes and collaborations, TVROCK have transcended the house genre to find mainstream fame. This may be a double-edged sword for the DJs, as I found their set sadly lacking. Their well-known tracks Flaunt It and The Others felt stale and this was reinforced by the artists’ lack of physical energy. Adjusting my criticism for the handicap of an early timeslot, I’d concede to say TVROCK managed to produce a worthy warm up set, which inspired no more then a general bounce in the crowd.

Special props to MaRLo who’s sound was a little out of place in the light-ridden Cream Space, though I enjoyed his set. His sound included several new tracks, and a very intense rendition of his track Brain Box. Later in the night from The Main Stage, Ferry Corsten would choose to play MaRLo’s Brain Box too.

Dutchman Steve Rachmad , a veteran of the European techno sound was banging it from Planet Hadware. Rachmad used his environment, his body, and his sound to create a stimulating atmosphere where inhibitions could be set free. Pumping out a gritty Detroit techno inspired set, he finished his delicious serve with Greg Gow’s Black Sun, which left me with a body full of senses completely satisfied.

It is my entirely unsubstantiated opinion that Riva Starr popped several cherries when he delivered his mashed up collection of tracks in the dark spaces of Planet Hardware. A particular crowd favourite was I Was Drunk, which left me feeling elated and at the same time a little bit naughty. His set was all over the pace in terms of style and genre, but he pulled it together with the ease of an old school pro.

I arrived in The Outrage Space just in time to hear Yolanda Be Cool playing their hit-of-the-moment remix We No Speak Americano. However it was their track Afro Nuts that was a distinct stand out. Combining Afro drums, whistles, and a collection of candy beeps, it allowed us to stretch our dancing muscles and experiment with new shapes. The duo continued their tribal theme, sampling Douster’s King of Africa to much applause.

Duo Oh Snap!! are two old-school hip-hop rappers, complete with large shades, bling, and Oh Snap!! T-shirts. Their music made the crowd throw up their hands, the lyrics made us want to fist punch the air, and their energy was infectious enough to fill our entire bodies with the moshing inclination. Their remix of Benny Benassi’s Satisfaction created an unexpected sexy atmosphere – the kind you wouldn’t expect from two lads who personify their track I’m too fat to be a Hipster.

Tommie Sunshine could appeal to me on a purely visual format. With long stringy locks, copious amounts of fuzz on his face, and shades that hide what I assume are withered eyes – this man looks the very part of a musical veteran. However when I opened my other senses to him, I found a man with an eclectic interest in genre mashing, a keen ear for nu-music, and a professional quality of performing (indeed evidence of a long career spent in music). Featuring Oh Snap!! live on several tracks and a sexy female dancer in a sequin bikini, Sunshine gave the crowd a lesson in how to move your body.

Back at The Main Stage, I happily lost myself in the pop remixes of Dirty South. He enticed the lounging crowd to their feet with the a remix of The Temper Trap’s Sweet Disposition and his older remodel of Evermore’s It’s Too Late. His incendiary riffs during a remix of his original track Let It Go cemented his tap into the crowds’ collective psyche. This sound combined with visuals simulating exploding water balloons, and a probing light display, ensured his set resonated with the masses.

Green Velvet continued the frenzy but changed its form. Known as a solo veteran, Green Velvet gave a departure and played with a backing band. He delivered his trademark mechanical beats and smooth vocals but I felt a distinct lightness in their delivery. This was most evident in his latest single Shake and Pop, a steady electro song with a flirtatious theme.

The incandescent Ferry Corsten delivered a narcissistic set, complete with a setlist driven by his own tracks, visuals of himself, and even a backing screen lit up with the words to many of his songs. He may be vain, but Corsten has the goods to back it up, and the uncanny ability to provoke a massive sing-a-long.

Back to The Outrage Space for a long stint in the moshball, I began my roster with Kid Sister. Flying the flag for females in a male dominated festival, she delivered strong energy in the form of vocal mayhem and killer dance moves. With punchy synths and syllable-flipping rhymes, she was equal parts ghetto and pop.

Acid Jacks continued the high energy, delivering a deranged set that was capable of disturbing me while at the same time transfixing me into a state of utter glee. This may have something to do with the three zombies (dancers) who came out mid set; complete with faces bandaged, white coats, vomiting black vile, and simulating an orgy; blurring the lines between sexy and grotesque. Acid Jacks were so good, they almost upstaged the following act, heavyweights MSTRKRFT.

Canadian rappers Electro gods MSTRKRFT produced some mighty powerful beats. Defying genre categorisation, they ‘DJ moshed’ (from here to there and back again) with a style that was hardcore and arrogant. My favourite song of 2009 Heartbreaker was remixed to a new moshing speed, and they dared to play Warp 1.9 in their final onslaught. Ending their set with *AC/DC*’s Thunderstruck, they kept the crowd hanging on the eternal riff before plunging into the final chorus.

Zoo Brazil played a solid techno-house set, with an appreciative crowd smashing out their limbs in sound allegiance. Joris Voorn and Dave Clarke lit up Planet Hardware with hardcore techno; a dangerous insightful sound that satisfied the crowds’ lust for build ups and mind bending drops. Joris Voorn’s signature techno sound was a blend of new and classic tracks, which were embraced by a small but adoring crowd. My kudos go out to the people who stayed on for Dave Clarke’s set. While many people snuck off to see The Bloody Beetroots perform, the people who stayed on to hear Clarke go to town on tough techno received a slice of sound dished up by one of the principle legends of the techno scene.

In 2010, The Bloody Beetroots have forged a new direction and rebranded as The Bloody Beetroots Death Crew 77. As each member of Death Crew 77 sauntered onto stage in their trademark Venom (or “Spidy”) masks, each raised a hand in salute to the begging crowd. Strobe lights beamed out into the sea of people, as their track Domino became the introduction sound for the mayhem about to ensue. With their new live set up of keys, drums, synths, and guitars, they were the bridge between electronic sound and authentic live set up. Their energy was more punk anarchy than the electro madness of 2009, but their formula involved the best from both styles. Building their beats to dizzying heights, plateauing the monotonous beat to the point where the crowd became at once hypnotized and then crying out to be released. When Warp began its assault on the senses, I lost myself. All I remember is a ticking clock, and then the mosh swallowed me whole and I was left post-song dazed and confused.

As the masses headed towards the train station, I looked around at the state of those who came and conquered. I noticed a frenzied joy etched in faces, cooled sweat and torn clothing left little doubt as to what had taken place. Creamfields seemed to have orchestrated a problem free finale in Melbourne, a feat to ensure it visits again in 2011.