“Growing up in the Northern Rivers I had a plethora of festivals to attend as a teenager, both as a punter and as a young musician. I played the local scene – Mullum Music Fest, Bellingen Winter Music Festival. I’d have my gumboots on at Byron Bay Blues Festival and Splendour In The Grass – squelching through the mud and dreaming of one day playing drums there.“
Music festivals are an institution in the Australian industry, invaluable in bringing international artists to Australia and supporting and creating regular work for Australian artists.
Early in my career, I felt lucky to have the opportunity to play Splendour and Falls Festival. They prioritised billing local artists, and it was always incredibly exciting to be seen and invited to be part of a global event – a space to network, learn and meet other musicians from around the world who were doing the same thing. Having that platform as a young regional artist really shaped my idea of what was possible – these festivals creating direct pathways from local to national success and reach.
As a session drummer, I make my living from live gigs, festivals, tours and studio recordings. After completing my music degree at Southern Cross University (where the music course has since been discontinued… another hit for the industry) and after lockdown, I moved to Melbourne. Landing in Victoria, I was told the music scene and industry palate was a bit different to pre-Covid times. My first shows in Melbourne, I was playing under venue capacity restrictions; 3 sets in one night to 3 different audience groups. These venues were usually rooms for 200 people or so, and the thought of the festivals I grew up with where 50,000 people were walking around a site now blew my mind. It felt like some sort of dream that so many people could be in one place at one time for the one purpose – to enjoy live music.
“Jump ahead to this year – 2025, now five years on from the initial Covid pandemic. I’m grateful for the shows I’ve been able to play and for the bands I’ve played with, performing shows big and small from Wave Rock Festival, to Sydney Opera House, Hamer Hall, Woodford Folk Festival and Dream Aloud. The musical landscape has continued to change, and in some ways, it’s feeling a little harder than those early restricted shows in empty venues.“
Last month, I was fortunate enough to play the final Loch Hart Festival, playing with the incredible Annie – Rose Maloney. We were the last act, on the last day, for the last iteration of the festival, and it was an incredibly emotional journey of a set. Loch Hart is a community focused festival with alot of love behind it, and people in the crowd were crying at the idea of the festival finishing.
As a band playing to that energy, it felt like an ocean of emotions being pushed between the audience and us. This festival obviously had beautiful bones, it meant a lot to a lot of people. As I’ve directly experienced, festivals can change lives both personally and professionally. Festivals hold heart break, sadness, lift people higher, provide a place to find connection, love, a new friend. Bands would have had the opportunity to play their very first festival gig there and be given that chance to perform on a festival stage, others an opportunity to play a more intimate festival to die hard fans. You could see that the festival directors were heartbroken by the need to shut it down, this obviously wasn’t a want but just a result of where things are sitting in the current world. My next gig with Annie-Rose Maloney is at Meadow Festival – sadly another last iteration of a great festival. Splendour in the Grass is taking another year off (hopefully returning at a later date), Byron Bay Blues Festival is having a final hooray and Caloundra Music Festival, Groovin The Moo and Falls Festival are just a few more major festivals that have had to end their run or hit the pause button.
Mullum Music Fest, Bellingen Winter Music Festival, two great local festivals where I cut my teeth as a drummer, have both sadly closed their gates for good.
“As an artist, it’s incredibly hard to see these festivals come to an end. It’s not just a work opportunity, or a steady source of income, but the beautiful sense of community that is linked to each festival. Festivals are kind of like an extended chosen family, everyone working together for a greater experience.“
The loss of these spaces take an emotional toll on mental health and wellbeing. Losing them leaves a gap that isn’t easily filled, especially for those who rely on live music as a source of joy, identity, or even healing. If you’re feeling the weight of these changes, know that you’re not alone. Support Act offers free, confidential counselling for artists, crew, and music workers, including a dedicated LGBTQIA+ helpline to provide support.
I guess in these time we have to lean on trust – trust that new festivals will keep emerging, trust that people still wish to go and experience live music. To be immersed in a moment that is greater than them, to smile at the stranger next to them as they’re singing lyrics back to the band, to have chills as you realise how small you are as a human on this earth. How everything feels possible and yet nothing really matters in that fleeting moment as you’re hearing your favourite song live.
As musicians always do, we keep playing, we keep creating and offering our art form to audiences in whatever way we can.
Photos by Maria Martinez, Kate Atkinson & Jess Gleeson
