Good Things 2024 | Flemington Racecourse

For the past three years, the countdown to the beloved, annual festival Good Things has always been my most anticipated day of the year, in which I humbly dub “Emo Christmas”. In lieu of this title, I present to you a short poem;

‘Twas the night before Good Things, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The fishnets were hung by the band tee with care, 

In hopes that Johnathon Davis would soon be there.

The emo’s were nestled, all snug in their beds,

While visions of two-steps in the pit danced in their heads;

We had Joel in his jorts, and I in my docs,

Ready for the festival to pop the fuck off.

Each year, without fail, I put on my shortest shorts, a tiny bikini and the chunkiest black boots I own, arming myself with spiked cuffs and messy eyeliner, ready to take on the day. The night before, I got to see the Sleeping With Sirens sideshow, and although I should have been exhausted, it had only made my bones ache more for the ruthless heaven ahead of me. Driving in and waiting in line is nothing short of agony, but as soon as those pearly gates opened, I hopped, skipped, then jumped my way over to the merch stall, snatching up some Korn threads and meeting up with Drew and Charlie.

A few days before the festival, it was announced that Sum 41 had to cancel at the last minute due to lead vocalist, Deryck Whibley, coming down with pneumonia. A lot of fans were pretty crushed about this, but tried their best not to let it dampen their day. The setlist was slightly altered, and alternative enthusiasts of all kinda made their way into the festival.

Charlie & I polishing off our beers before Loathe / @drewhillphotos

Starting the day off strong, Charlie and I manoeuvred our way through the crowd at stage two, securing a prime spot to watch Loathe. Operatic vocalisation blared through the speakers, summoning to the stage the beloved four piece all the way from Liverpool. Much like their discography, the set was a marvellous swell of vicious riffs and Kareem France’s ferocious growl, to the sprawling lugubrious soundscape of beloved tracks like “Is It Really You?’’. Only being their second time in Australia, and their set being the third of the day, the crowd piled together and sang along to every word. Their versatility translates seamlessly live, and I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed that they come back down under again for a show of their own.       

Kareem France of Loathe / @drewhillphotos

The set up this year was a bit different, a lot more spacious than previous years which made it a lot easier to sprint from stage to stage and weave through crowds mid set. At some point, I managed to find a group of my friends, hovering around Stage 1 as Bowling for Soup played through “High School Never Ends”. As we were slamming beers and discussing where to go next, the Phineas & Ferb theme song graced my already ringing ear drums. My neck snapped up and I ecstatically bounced around, my day simply not able to get any better than it was.  

Soon after, the race to head to Stage 4 for Melbourne’s own and beloved Alpha Wolf’s set began. Ducking and squeezing my way through, I slid and wedged myself between everyone to get nice and cosy in the centre of the pit, ignoring the blistering heat of the sun out of pure giddiness. As they slammed into their first song, the familiar sea of crashing bodies swept over me, and I merrily let it take me away. It was all fun and games until a poorly timed elbow clocked me in the jaw, and with my tail between my legs I sauntered out of the mosh, standing back to head bang along to the rest of the set.

Alpha Wolf / @drewhillphotos

The sun had only just started creeping out from behind the clouds as the set began, but by the end, soothing sheets of rain washed over the venue. I think people were pretty grateful for it, I certainly was as my shoulders were already a concerning shade of red and I could practically see the steam rising. Checking my phone for the first time and three hours, I realised it was already time to see Mastodon. I grabbed my boyfriend by the hand and we made it just as they began their show with a sprawling of fiery riffs and drum rolls. “Floods of Triton” was certainly a highlight of the set, long instrumental passages and gritty singing powering through the speakers, leaving not a single person standing still. The lineup for Mastodon hasn’t budged since 2001, and each member still oozes raw talent and passion through each shred and scream.

Bill Kelliher of Mastodon / @drewhillphotos

I tugged on Joel’s arm as the clock struck 5, meaning it was time for yet another mad rush to the opposite side of the racecourse for L7. This quartet is a familiar favourite for me, my Dad’s been blasting “Shitlist” for a long while now, and consistently brags about the time he got to see them open for Cosmic Psychos. But now, it was my time to shine, and as “Fast and Frightening” played, I seized it. To see Suzi Gardner and Donita Sparks in all their grungy, ruthless glory as they churned out hit after hit was truly a baptism within its own right.

Having been on my feet for over 6 hours by this point, I grabbed some hot chips and two more pale ales before parking my ass in the grass to kick back and watch Violent Femmes. Compared to all the heavier sets I enjoyed throughout the day, the wistful folk punk was a nice change in tempo. From where I sat, I could see friends grinning at one another as they danced along, and as I happily nibbled on my food, I couldn’t have felt more fulfilled. I’m one of those mushy, sentimental people who harps on the concept of “all we have is the present”, and after the emotionally volatile year I (and I’m sure many others too) have had, to be able to let go of all that even just for a day mended something within me. I swayed along to “Gone Daddy Gone”, the steady drizzle of rain seemed to melt away all my qualms.

Electric Callboy / @drewhillphotos

Before the serenity could get too much though, my friends all excitedly leapt up to head into the mosh for Electric Callboy, the titular ticking intro for “Tekkno Train” luring in all the die-hard fans. Every time the German deathcore - techno band grace our shores, there’s a sea of sweaty bodies following them rabidly, and today was no exception. Waves of bouncing heads moved steadily with tracks like “RATATA” and “Spaceman”. A few songs in, they beckoned Sum 41’s drummer, Frank Zummo, to the stage, explaining how he’d been following their band for nearly a decade. The surprise only amped the audience up even more, and the rest of their slot seemed to fly by out of pure adrenaline.

Now, it was time for the moment we had all been waiting for. “Here To Stay” was Korn’s first song of the evening, and any blisters, sunburn or sheer exhaustion couldn’t prevent me from bouncing around maniacally. The iconic mic stand, a chrome sculpture of a torso, breasts peaking outwards to the crowd, was reflecting the red and white strobe lighting into fragments. Their iconic, clicky bass lines rang true through ”Got the Life” and “Good God”, and it was only banger after banger from here on out. Following “Clown” (one of the best songs ever, by the way), there was an instrumental jam that transitioned into “Ball Tongue’. Getting to hear Munky screech out that chorus was beyond surreal, and before I could process that, scratchy scatting blared out as they played “Twist”.

Johnathon Davis of Korn / @drewhillphotos

Their encore began with the screen behind illuminated with their scratchy font, reading “Is Anybody Still There?”, as whirring guitars whipped around the open air venue. The cheering and screaming didn’t cease, even as they began to play “Falling Away From Me”. Closing out with “Freak on a Leash”, it was over before I could even utter the words “Johnathon Davis, I love you”. With trembling legs, a beer soaked satchel and a body drenched in sweat, I bid Good Things farewell as I staggered out of Flemington Racecourse.

I’m writing this review a few days post-mortem to the event, and even though I still don’t have a voice (I blame Korn’s immaculate setlist) and my legs are still tender, I am having quite the bout of post concert depression. Every year I go, I’m reminded there’s so many cool, unique, incredible humans out there that all share the same love for a good break down as I do. Good Things will always hold a sincere spot in my life, some of my most memorable gigs and favourite people have all come from that fateful day, and so until next year, I shall hang up my camo hat and wait patiently for the line up to drop.

The Gang & I still cheesing it at the end of the night / @drewhillphotos

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Massive Thankyou to Destroy All Lines!