Ecca Vandal

Melbourne’s Ecca Vandal was just the second act on the main stage at Splendour, but she wasn’t interested in doing things by half. Out came the pin tsized star-in-the-making, channeling one hell of a space-punk aesthetic, treating those who’d come to an early festival standout performance.

There’s nothing like a performance with real grit, especially at a festival with its fair share of lighter indiepop. Here there were big rock drums and angry guitar riffs from a live band backing up a performer with a rap star’s swagger. But not some lazy rapper; this was a bloody great performance. There were shades of The Prodigy, Gwen Stefani and Missy Elliot, while an interlude of Get Ur Freak On got a cheeky singalong before the more complex vocalising on recent hit White Flag had the small, feisty crowd splashing about in the early puddles.

“Mate, she’s gonna be big, she’s gonna be big,” the guy next to me said between his muddy-toed dance moves. Too bloody right she is. This rapping riot girl won’t be warming up for bigger acts in a year or two. Bill Code

Jenny Lewis

Lewis is probably playing a little earlier in the day than would be ideal, but she manages to get the crowd dancing – as far as is possible on the boggy ground – by sticking mostly to songs from her latest album, The Voyager, with a few from her old Rilo Kiley days thrown in.

Midway through the set the energy levels rise during a stretch including solo singles She’s Not Me and Just One of the Guys, but it’s Rilo Kiley’s almost-hit Portions For Foxes that gets the biggest response and singalong.

The highlight, though, is the finale. Squalling Sonic Youth-style guitars collapse into Lewis’s delicate depression anthem A Better Son/Daughter, which builds gradually back into a mesmerising musical maelstrom of feedback. Alan Evans

Seekae

The last time I saw Seekae I may or may not have drunkenly accosted a band member to express my appreciation at the obvious influence of legendary hip hop producer J-Dilla in their music. Yet that was around five years ago, and we’ve all come a long way. These guys have graduated from talented beatmakers to become one of the sharpest live electronic bands in the country. While Tkay Maidza was strutting her stuff to a huge crowd in the next tent, Seekae showed they can do the mellow downtempo stuff with aplomb before turning their hand to heavier drum loops and synth-driven melodies.

Nerdishly slaving over the gadgets bookcasing the drum kit, the lads barely have time to look up and appreciate the solid fan base that had gathered to hear the spooky vocals and meandering rhythms from 2008’s The Sound of Trees Falling on People and last year’s The Worry. If there’s a criticism to be made it’s that none of the tunes being played warranted, for some in attendance, more than an enthusiastic head-nod in place of a riotous dance, but it was for the most part wonderfully crafted live music from a band worthy of their recent accolades. Bill Code

Everything Everything

EE are a festival band to the last for me. From tiny beginnings at the likes of Latitude where they first wooed me with Schoolin’ before their debut album Man Alive to their mighty rise up the British festival circuit with Cough, Cough and the rest of the Arc album, to this total pack out at Splendour. I chatted to the Manchester band as they conquered the jetlag before conquering the crowds.

“It’s got the energy, Splendour. It’s got that kind of aura. The last time we played here the crowd were completely insane. It feels like they’ve been waiting all year.”

Jonathan and his merry team have only been touring their new album Get To Heaven for a month but the new songs they do play sound tight, the alternating jerk and falsetto of the old days supplemented by some big top pleasers.

“Basically the further you get from our first record,” said Jonathan, “the easier it is to sing along.” And clap. And stamp. And dance like it’s not even still day one.