In its tenth year, Mofo is back mofo's. The brainchild of David Walsh, Brian Ritchie and the team from Mona, Mofo is a celebration of slightly off kilter, slightly left of centre but all of what you need in your life music and art. This year sees a series of ticketed events in conjunction with a three day festival scattered within the confines of the Mona site and of course its weirdo wayward counterpart Faux Mo bringing late night delights/terrors.

Having been won over by its dark sister event Dark Mofo over the past few years (I proclaimed last years festival to be the best festival in the country {read about Dark Mofo 2015 Here & Here}), this year marks the first adventure to the original. Where Dark takes over the city and specialises in ticketed events and makes Hobart its playground, Mofo is a different experience, being at times more casual and accessible than Dark and at others a complete other world of sensory delights! But like Dark Mofo, this festival is about individual experience and discovery within it and therefore it is impossible to cover and experience anything close to what is completely on offer and this review is more of an account of my own adventures.

On the opening day of the festival tragedy strikes the festival, but not on site. Over in Melbourne in a freak storm, The Spirit of Tasmania ferry which seemed to be carting a number of artists equipment, including headliners The Flaming Lips’ gear, is put out of commission and as a result sees the Melbourne airport enter a state of freak-out with people scrambling to score flights to 'bart and causing this unlucky sod to miss Antonio Sanchez' Birdman performance at the Odeon.

The next day the three day fest begins. The skies are bright and Mona is already pulsating with curious punters ducking and weaving around the site which is full of extra installations (more on the art of this years Mofo in part two), markets and little secrets waiting to be unearthed. The main portion of the bill for each of the days is spread out across the two outdoor stages quite casually and there is never very much pressure of missing any of the big acts (unless you get consumed within the museum).

Opening the main stage for the day is experimental Norwegian singer-songwriter Jenny Hval whom delivers an at times both visually and musically confronting set, which feels more routed in electronica courtesy of her accompaniment of drum machines and vintage synthesizers, and is arguably quite a different interpretation of her music on record. It is slightly weird that the entire cross generational audience are just simply chilling out on beanbags in the sun with the visual orgy of projections and Hval's crying, haircutting, toilet paper wrapping back up dancer providing so much stimulation but hey, when at Mona. Hval's music becomes easier to dissect as the set progresses and it possesses a real sense of modernism and rebellion to it, as evident by set highlight - a cover of Lana Del Rey's Summertime Sadness which is simply the original being played through her iPhone (to which she all too realistically puts that the iPhone is everyone's spirit animal) while Hval stares at the ground as her back up dancer sways in that Del Rey 'look at me I'm sad' kinda persona. The Battle is Over from her recent album Apocalypse Dreams is another highlight and showcases Hval's voice at its best and all around this set is solid from beginning to end and an early highlight of the week.

After a bit of a break to peruse the grounds and time to enjoy a beer or wine or six. Sweden's Fire! flood the stage with members and instruments to the point of capacity, led by the enigmatic Mats Gustafsson and also featuring guests Oren Ambarchi, Will Guthrie and other festival legends. The music, hmm the music. Well, I suppose it was best summed up by my friend at the time as Godspeed You! Black Emperor with more horns and a little less angry as most of the bands set is largely instrumental and has strong grounds within post-rock and classical. The band get a large set time to play with and there is not a dull moment throughout as each piece is as expansive as it is intriguing.

Making her first appearance at the festival (more to come) Evelyn Ida Morris takes the Turrell stage with Tigrayan krar playing Haftu Reda and multi instrumentalist Dale Gorfinkel for a one-off collaborative performance and things start off relatively interesting, sitting somewhere as a lo-fi middle eastern inspired jam. This does not however stick throughout, as things become quite quickly repetitive to the point that it feels more like a performance that you'd duck your head into within the gallery as opposed to a stage performance. This doesn't mean it was bad, more so not for everyone.

Back at the main stage it appears they managed to have sorted out some gear for tonight as the coveted Flaming Lips take the stage to a packed backyard. Over the last few years the lips have undertaken and undergone a number of questionable activities including fights with other artists, lineup changes and questionable releases and collaborations (cough cough… Miley Cyrus) but the band are still known as some of the best performers around. The set starts quite sleepily with a selection of slower, newish material being favoured. This coupled with the fact that the bands’ light show is almost useless considering it is still broad daylight also makes it a little harder to get lost in. Enigmatic ringleader Wayne Coyne doesn't really help this with sketchy vocal deliveries and painful ranting that sounds like a pinball machine to anyone who hasn't suffered brain damage as a result of drug use. This said however, things do pick up as the ridiculous 'Fuck Yeah HobMona' balloon gets torn apart by the crowd and they launch into early hit Turn It On and the band have a bit of a good run from there on in UNTIL they decide to bust out the Miley collab, Evil Is But a Shadow, which Coyne teases that Miley is here but is 'too fucked up' to come out (a stunt they pulled at Sydney fest as well). Their rendition is no less painful and you will never see a group of people giving less of a fuck at a festival than this, which is worsened further by Coyne's added 5 odd minute waffle at the end, which is a pubic hair away from him calling it the best piece of music ever written. Oh and the bands’ David Bowie tribute where Coyne forgets the words is almost walk out worthy…

Gripes aside, its when the sun is actually down we all get what we came here for, which is classic Lips and good times. The lose yourself feel of Vein of Stars followed by the in-your-face attitude of The W.A.N.D. is executed perfectly, while Feeling Yourself Disintegrate and A Spoonful Weighs a Ton wrap things up nicely before the inevitable encore of Do You Realize??, which no matter how many times you hear it is still an unavoidable joy, guilty or not and allows all previous sins to be forgiven.

Back on the ROMA, back to bed, gotta get some early zzz's after all. Wait, its farkin Faux Mo babababababay!!!

What is Faux Mo? Who the fuck knows. What happens at Faux Mo? No-one can ever remember.

Happening at 12 Murray st in the heart of the city in the former government offices of Hobart, the street is packed with a line around the corner of punters trying to score their way in. Upon entry, inside it is a literal sensory overload and is the best house party of your life which is somehow sanctioned and facilitated by the festival.  The building itself is what can be described as your bog standard office building with faxes, cubicles and water-coolers all around the place. But naturally, across four levels this beast is transformed with a shit load of different stages and installations all about the shop and is almost a drug induced haze of the festival before. 

At some point in the night I went through a hole under a table and didn't leave for a while. Lets leave tonight’s Faux at that...

An hour or two sleep will do. Wonder if the Poobah is still kickin'? wait what did I do with all me cash? shit what time is the ROMA? Fark yeah, better get to the festival. Farkin' Faux Mo tonight woo!

With a stupidly giddy grin on my face from the night before, admittedly I made it to the festival a tad later than expected… But there was no option of missing the amazing Will Guthrie. With some high winds being a bit of an issue for the set up surrounding the open area at the front of Mona, it was a concern as to whether it would affect the quality of his performance on the Turrell stage but fortunately no issues arise as the man delivers a machine worthy set behind the kit. Guthrie is a literal human metronome and chops and changes tempo and time signature with literal ease and it feels like the film Whiplash without the sensationalism.

Making the trip from Ethiopia, celebrated musician Hailu Mergia in collaboration with The Neck's Tony Buck and Sydney musician Mike Majkowski deliver a set of sprawling jazz which feels as much freeform as it is tight. Mergia makes his way across multiple instruments including the organ, accordion and melodica and despite taking the 'lead' role for most of the set, the group feels cohesive and natural as if they'd been at it for years, giving Head Hunters era Herbie Hancock a run for their money. The closing piece led by Majkowski's double bass has everyone moving in the hot sun and despite having played a beefy set leaves the audience wanting more.

The coveted Belgium HERMESensemble have been seen before their main stage appearance doing freeform performances around the gallery but they're all together here for what is described within the program as an “Orchestral ménage à trois featuring voice and electronica”. The set is divided into three sections. The first is full ensemble with vocals being the focus and at times it does fall a little flat, partially because of the voice element which sticks out a little too much at times. The second piece is performed solely by the trumpet player with the aid of some effects and is the most interesting offer by the ensemble as expansive, lush and at times bone scraping sounds come through. The third piece is essentially a full orchestra piece that, to the less attentive, sounds the same as the first minus vocals. All in all it is a solid offering but something feels lacking which can not be pinpointed with ease.

It could be argued that the lineup today has been well, quite highbrow, with no real accessibility or any real kind of popular music making its way in. Things are about to change, and in a big way, with Japanese electronic god DJ Krush taking the headline slot. Everything about this set is executed perfectly to the point of tears coming from the crowd. Krush favours a more 'electronic' approach in comparison to the instrumental hip-hop sounds of his earlier releases and coupled with the visuals it is hard not to dance in absolute awe. Krush is clearly a master behind turntables, with his scratching and manipulations being world class, but it is how he uses his skills which makes the set, as he goes from slower more ambient style tracks to guitar sample led mindfucks. The surprising crown jewel of the set comes in the form of the encore, a David Bowie tribute, in which Krush puts on Let's Dance and simply sits back as the crowd, in what can only be described as a bittersweet moment, dance with no inhibitions to one of music's greats. Ladies and gentleman our festival is done, it cant get better than this.

Away from the official festivities of MOFO, The Brisbane Hotel has a nice little side offering before the belting Faux Mo of the evening. Arriving in time to catch the tail end of Hobart legend Peter Charles MacPherson's set kinda made one wish not to fart arse around back at the hostel. Brisbane chillaz Amaringo follow and it feels like a come down to Krush before and the blissful dream pop is hard not to get sucked into for an out for the evening. Rounding things out is Evelyn Ida Morris in her Pikelet form and is her at her best over the weekend. Despite a few technical hiccups here and there the sounds she manages to achieve and her ability to bring it back to a cohesive pop format is nearly as irresistible as the Brisbane's two schooners for $11 deal.

#2, here we go bro. Ah yeah cook n shook me all night again babay you're not the faux I know you're the Faux Mo I love babe.

Well gonna summarise this because there is one more Faux Mo and that's what I want you to read about in Part Two of this tale.

So…

Pretty big line down the street.

Upstairs is shut tonight.

Props to the drunk guy that tried to charge his way through anyway.

Basement is open though.

Lots of naked women and strange beats down there.

The music has more of a classic feel to it as opposed to beats.

James Chance and the Contortions were alright. Seen some better funk

Oi mate, good to see ya!

{Uncomfortable silence and a lot of staring at the wall as I try to remember what actually happened so I can type something here}

Fuck, I forgot I lost that game of air hockey in the arcade room last night.

Where the hell have my friends gone and who are these mad dogz Im now hanging around.

Ah there you are!

Where are the mad dogz?

Don't turn on the lights and tell me to leave.

Off to the Poobah then. Dah the DJ aint as good as X at Faux.

PART TWO COMING SOON!

Feat. Day three of Mofo pass, Mona art and exhibitions, more random nonsense and Faux Mo #3 w/DJ KRUSH, The Harrison Forward and HITS.

- Bradley Armstrong