A Day at Nest Fest
Words by Alex Hallifax. Images by Frankie Finnigan, Dan Campbell-Robinson, and Java Katzur.
There's something extra special about Nest Fest, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. The environment breeds positivity and community in a way that's missing from a few of the jaw-grinding festivals running up and down the country during raumati. Rather than an atmosphere of exclusivity or vacancy, the strangers I interacted with at Nest Fest were quick to compliment and easy to engage with. It's a result of the enormous effort that goes in by the organisers and artists. If you didn't make it, or even if you did, let's reminisce on the best day of January 2021.
As I entered that Saturday, giant mushrooms towered over me. More so than the year before, it felt like a magical fantasy land come to life. Connecting the Olive and Market Stages was a vine-covered walkway laced in dry ice. It was hard to miss the delight illuminating the faces of those around me. Entering the Market Stage was like hopping into a pocket of everything that sparks joy. It's a fairy den of free fruit, places to shop and browse, art supplies to play with, colour everywhere and high vibrations coming from the surrounding bodies and DJ booth. It was a sensory dance floor haven aided by The Department of Arts installations, which provided various lights, banners, and cute messages across the space.
Moving through to the Amphitheatre, self-expression was at an all-time high. Every festival-goer had something aesthetic to say, and it's one of my favourite aspects of the event. Other than enjoying the artists and moving my tinana to the beat, I always make time to sit back and gaze at those around me. And sit back you can because, unlike so many other festivals, the Amphitheatre provides a welcoming space to lay down a picnic blanket and enjoy the show. Particularly important to guests in wheelchairs or with injuries. I saw one woman parked the fuck up, broken leg on chair, grooving with her still mobile upper limbs. I'm not sure R&V could provide the same inclusive and accessible environment for those still keen to enjoy a day of live music.
The long and short of it is, you can spend the whole day on your whīti or the whole day on your nono, it's a spectrum experience. The festival planners provide a variety of spaces to enjoy wonderful New Zealand music; allowing festival-goers to chameleon between a DJ set, rap show, soul session or indie groove.
There were heaps of sick acts across all three stages (as expected). Melodownz spat some fire te reo; something I'm hoping to see more of in the mainstream New Zealand music scene. LOU'ANA's mesmerising and energising vocals were something I'll most definitely be seeking out again. Arjuna Oakes, forever talented and inspiring orchestrated an impromptu collaboration with Name UL which had convicts praying for forgiveness. And Hurricane Emily provided some fire house beats.
An array of talented DJs serenaded the Market Stage. "They really thought about their sets and timing, to match the energy of the crowd. The DJs themselves really got people grooving, dancing around up there like they were also on the dance floor. I thought it was really cool to have the Market Stage there as an option for people who aren't normally into electronic music to get a taste in a really open, light-hearted atmosphere," said rave intel girl Tandy Molina. "There was a real diversity of music which made it fun and kept it interesting. Lots of groovy house but also heaps of different cultural music with percussion – like bongos – and wacky lyrical stuff," she said.
As we headed into the evening, we heard the voice of Sam Wave envelop the Amphitheatre. "The groove was initiated, and people started to quickly fill the dance floor. His music drifted through the crowd like a rolled joint at a western-themed 1960's Hollywood party," said Delilah Pārore Southon. Sun setting and paragliders soaring overhead, it seemed that the festival planners had treats and surprises in-store for us everywhere we looked. A rainbow lighting set produced by angels doused the Amphitheatre as the energy of headlining band, Soaked Oats, electrified the crowd. That crew never cease to amaze me with their diversity in content and sound. Sun well set and energy high, there was a palpable thirst for daddy to get home preceding Wax Mustang's closing set. I could hear running bets of how soon he would take his shirt off and, not even one song in someone was a winner.
I did hear a few friends mention that the festival may have been slightly oversold. And I would have to agree that some of the intimacy from last year had been lost to commercialisation. But that's what happens to all good music, movies, books, and events, they blow up with the masses, and it's hard to criticise something or someone for oversharing their offerings with those who desperately wanted to experience the magic that Nest Fest keeps creating.
With all that said, I'm already on standby for next year. Don't forget to bring a hula hoop, vape, fresh layer of sunscreen and your favourite cowboy hat because this is the home of annual leave in full swing and there's no doubt about it, everyone you've ever met is there, and they're ready to fucking party.