Beautifully located in the heart of Brisbane, surrounded by the monstrous cement jungle that is the Fortitude Valley, the annual St Jerome’s Laneway Festival once again delivered a delicious smorgasbord of indie goodness.

Subject to weather of which Brisbane has recently not been accustomed to, the unfiltered and rich rays pierce the delicate skin of every in attendance. Scrambling to a table filled with sunscreen, the better option was to seek refuge undercover. Upon first glance, every stage was under direct ‘death-rays’.

Mimicking a headless chicken while slowly watching the cooking of skin, Rat Vs Possum welcomed burnt punters to the shaded Car Park Stage. Regularly indulging in tribal drumming sessions, calypso-styled sounds and outstanding vocal harmonies, the crowd were willingly hypnotised into some sort of clannish rhythm dance by sets end.

Outside, under the monster heat wave yet again, Violent Soho are already dripping in sweat. Yet to walk on stage, the circle pit forms and braces for action. Pronouncing a ‘one love’ and a ‘pro-marijuana’ attitude, it brought chuckles to all when the band reminded the crowd that last Laneway they played just under ten people were in attendance.

This however, is a different show. Tucked away in a laneway, nearly hidden on the opposite side of the grounds, the local boys screamed through tracks Muscle Junkie, Slippery Tongue and moshpit thrashing Jesus Stole My Girlfriend. Proud to be the heaviest band on the line-up, sticking out like a sore thumb, it makes you wonder who the hardcore mosher kids will circle-pit next?

Finally gaining a break, with more than half a bottle of sunscreen firmly rubbed into every part of my body, the atmosphere soaks in. Not as thick as the sunscreen, but just as good for you. Free fairy floss to the left, free tattoos to the right, an alley of knick-knacks – it was as if this was no festival, but more a celebration. A celebration of art, fashion, people and music. And what better way to bring in an Australian summer with a celebration?

Missing the entirety of the Local Natives set, it was safely assumed that a beautiful set was had. Catching the last clear harmonic note echo the streets, it was back under a giant umbrella to save what unburnt skin still remained. Walking back out to the scorching heat, Beach House storm the New Alexandria St Stage. Styled in an overly-large cream coat, the beautiful vocalist/keyboardist Victoria LeGrand introduced the crowd into the blissful world of dream pop. Opening with Walk in the Park, Baltimore’s finest continued with further goosebump-head boppers Zebra, Take Care and Norway. Mimicking their recent album, this truly was a Teen Dream of a performance.

Originally used as a livestock shed, Brooklyn’s The Antlers glamorously captivate the onlookers inside the Inner Sanctum stage. Blasting through a set of emotion-charged hits from 2009’s Hospice album, the impressive display of vocal range from lead Peter Silberman bounced from wall to wall, from heart to heart.

Here not too long ago, Splendour favourites and indie-kings Two Door Cinema Club are welcomed with a standing ovation. Instantly kick-starting the party with crowd-chanting favourites Cigarettes and Undercover Martyn, the Irish lads jump through their critically acclaimed debut album Tourist History with a sprinkle of new tracks in-between. Known for their unique grave basslines and rickety guitar hooks, classic tunes I Can Talk and Do You Want It All bought a knockout punch to the already sweat-drenched attendees. It was pretty much impossible not to dance.

Draped by the sunset, New York’s Yeasayer’s catchy electro-pop styles are nearly shadowed by the incredible multi-coloured light-show. Trippy Caribbean-themed tunes O.N.E, Grizelda and Mondegreen gave the several thousand punters something to move to, while highly anticipated Madder Red further affirms the fact that singing should be left to the bands.

Keeping this Splendour reunion going strong, Oxford’s Foals slowly start their twilight set with their more mellow, restrained singles. Moments after Olympic Airways and Total Life Forever, breakthrough hit Cassius frantically alters the entire mood in a flash. Majestically flowing through the funky beat of After Glow and echoed rhythm guitar of Miami, no grudges could be held against punters wishing to leave after their tight and enthralling performance, as this was the festival’s ultimate set.

Whether you are a fan or not, it is near impossible to walk past the mind-warping, eye-popping, questionable performance of Les Savy Fav. The noise-pop-art-punk fusion may not just be something unique to hear, but also to witness. Delivered by the overweight, balding, delicate riot starter Tim Harrington, his charisma and outrageous energy begs the question if he is really all there? Spending half the set in the crowd, and the remaining time covering himself in metallic paint, hidden inside a box and stripping, Les Savy Fav were sadly remembered by their performance rather than music tonight. Not saying it sounded bad, or it was not enjoyed, it was just that this was… a speechless act.

Briefly catching a handful of tracks from New York dance-punk act !!!, it was clear to see that once the sun goes down, the strange come out. Ensuring that the festival ended on a high, the party machine that is !!! pulled out all the stops to make up for the extremely late slot. Singer Nic Offer may just be the whitest boy on earth, yet we cannot take our eyes off him. Forgetting to wear pants, and with the rhythm of a seizering gazelle, the onslaught of tracks from 2010 album Strange Weather Isn’t It? and 2007’s Myth Takes come thick and fast to everyone’s delight. However, it just may be a little to late.

While watching everyone leave, Cut Copy stand proudly in front of a pulsating door frame, several strobes and LED lights, engulfed in smoke. Still observing the stragglers make their way over from !!!, most did not make it past the exit. Even with chart toppers Where I’m Going, Heats on Fire and Lights and Music making early appearances, the crowd thin out within half an hour, well before the set’s end.

Flocking to the Valley, a sea of several thousand sunburnt, body aching, sweat stinking creatures openly admit that the first leg of the 2011 Laneway Festival has been more than a success. Keeping in tradition with the years previous, next year may just blow our minds.