Stroke Your Addiction at the Farmer & The Owl Festival
Life in a city can be taxing, so we’ve been told by the Coles Group conglomerate whilst they’re peddling their ever-cheaper bottles of cow tit juice and bird periods.
They’re not wrong in that respect. They’re morally in the wrong in almost every respect, but city life is inherently exhausting.
The constant lights, the noise, the pollution, the proliferation of indie pop buskers and whatever fresh attempt is currently being made at a mass public transport system is murder on your sanity.
The narrative of an escape is a lucrative one. The image of a few more trees and a couple of people in the background wearing flannel, with all the constructed comfort and lack of manual labour afforded by city life. It’s little surprise that the Coles Group isn’t the only one cashing in on the narrative.
Enter: Farmer & The Owl Festival.
The Farmer & The Owl Festival made its successful debut in March, within the steel lined laneways and lush urban parklands of McCabe Park in the heart of Wollongong. 4,000 music addicts descended on the spacious lots and secluded post-industrial alcoves for a day of music consumption and discovery. Farmer & The Owl returns in 2020, serving up a fresh collective of garden-fresh, magnificent sounds for your listening pleasure.
Once again, the line-up has been affectionately curated by your favourite artists from the Farmer & The Owl label family of Hockey Dad, Bad//Dreems, Totally Unicorn, The Pinheads, TEES and Tropical Strength.
Featuring: Hot Chip, Uncle Acid and the deadbeats, Sleaford Mods, Weyes Blood, Fat White Family, Drab Majesty, Miss June, Body Type, REBEL YELL, The Murlocs, Alex Cameron, Mom Jeans, Press Club, Jack Ladder & The Dreamlanders, Hand Habits, EGOISM, Shady Nasty, Cable Ties, Horror My Friend, The Buoys, SPOD, 100, WASH, Mini Skirt, Blistar, Bad//Dreems, WIKI, The Lazy Eyes, HOON, RMFC and Loose Fit.
It’s all the descriptive imagery of a quasi-rural escape with all the aural, olfactory and steel-lined EDM-filled city horror we’ve come, like twitching addicts, to be dependant upon.
This isn’t your rural methadone.
This is your industrial meth addiction with a flowery commercial script and an anecdote-fuelling wristband.
Which is all you ever wanted in the first place.