Huge extremes run of the mill

By REBECCA BARRY


The Big Day Out is an event of extremes, where flitting from the mosh-pit of a metal act to the stuffy interior of a thumping circus tent is as natural as visiting the kebab stall next to the Hare Krishnas.

West Auckland rockers 8 Foot Sativa and their snarling caustic death metal seemed the perfect way to start the countdown to Metallica.

The rousing thump of drum'n'bass locals Shapeshifter was the soothing antidote. And while a trio of puerile Ockers at the lily pad made jokes about "big boosies", it was early afternoon treat The Darkness who deserved the laughs.

After recovering from an initially muddy sound mix, the flamboyant Brits' "dirty" version of Get Your Hands Off Of My Woman and their spot-on AC/DC riffage was as thrilling as it was hilarious.

Frontman Justin Hawkins proved you can rock the crowd while resembling Rik Mayall in a condom. Thumbs up? Hell, yes.

Auckland's MC Lucia was the most sophisticated act to play the hip hop stage, while Verse II - after committing the ultimate Big Day Out sin of arriving 15 minutes late - played beautifully syncopated funk/soul, marred only by occasionally crackling amps and the boom from the Boiler Room.

That was no thanks to Aussie dance duo Pnau, who were busy shouting something about their new album from behind their laptops.

The Black Eyed Peas and their sparky new singer Fergie beefed up their hip hop-lite set with raunchy guitars and later engaged with The Darkness in a sort of Aerosmith meets Run DMC showdown.

Melbourne band Something for Kate seemed more of a pit stop for those queuing for the signing tent - their awkward stage presence and plodding Pearl Jam-like grandeur making them one of the least appealing acts of the day.

Peaches knows it's all in the hips. When she wasn't doing rude things with the mic or calling for the licking of armpits, she was a brazen Joan Jett of the Eurotrash underworld.

Art can be riveting, especially when there are underpants involved.

Kiwi band Fur Patrol seemed too slick next to the reckless abandon of the Datsuns. Those guys know what rock 'n' roll is about.

UK band Muse sounded just as pompous and overblown as they do on record, which turned out to be a good thing in a stadium.

Countering their horror-file soundtrack were cool New Yorkers the Strokes, who stayed in control of their Velvet Underground chugging despite frontman Julian Casablancas' confession "someone's been drinking, and it's been me".

The Mars Volta were like cats beneath the wheels of a Chevvy Impala - squawking but original psycho rock.

Then suddenly Metallica were on. And amid scarily big pyrotechnics were crowd-pleasing older songs and tracks from their newest album. They were classic in every sense.

Basement Jaxx folded the evening with their sinewy dances, twisted visuals and hard-jacking house.