Canberra is damp today. Not tragic-damp, not apocalypse-damp, just enough drizzle to remind you that Australian festivals exist in a constant meteorological prank. Last week Sydney baked at 44 degrees for Good Things. Earlier this year Adelaide’s Harvest Festival hit pause while a storm threw a tantrum. Today at Spilt Milk Canberra, the rain shows up uninvited and absolutely nobody cares.
This thing sold out in record time, part of the biggest on-sale Spilt Milk has ever seen, and you can feel it in the mud and ponchos and stubborn joy of people who showed up knowing they’d get wet and came anyway. The weather doesn’t dampen spirits. It just baptises them.
I catch Sonic Reducer early. Canberra’s own, all punk attitude and serrated edges. No filler, no apology. This band snarls like they’re auditioning for the future and they pass. Loudly.
Over at the Basquiat stage, smartcasual are wrapping up a rousing set and the crowd is losing its collective mind. Indie rock hits different when it’s delivered with sincerity and volume. The band looks genuinely stunned by the response, like they just realised something important about themselves in real time.
I stay undercover to catch Mia Wray, who pulls the room inward with heartfelt indie pop that lands square in the chest. The rain taps along politely while she sings, like it knows when to behave.
Then it’s over to the Derbyshire stage for Sophie Edwards, whose journey from Berklee College of Music back to Australia makes perfect sense once you see her live. She and her band won the Unearthed Spilt Milk competition in 2023 and the reason is obvious. She’s precise, confident, and quietly commanding.
A quick climb up the hill brings Don West, backed by a band that locks in hard. He holds the crowd in the palm of his hand, especially the ladies, and after the set he sticks around taking selfies like this is all part of the job. Because it is. Seems like a genuinely decent human being.
Then Rebecca Black returns and flips the Basquiat tent into a disco. Two dancers behind her like twin dynamos, non-stop beats, total commitment. She is a beacon of reinvention and today she proves it again. This is not a comeback story anymore. This is a victory lap.
Nessa Barrett follows, immaculate and poised, delivering her hits with the kind of confidence you only get from a successful headline run.
Sofia Isella steps up next and it’s genuinely hard to believe she’s only 20. TikTok fame, major opening slots, and already she performs like someone who knows exactly where this is going. Mega stardom feels less like a prediction and more like a scheduling detail.
On the Angove stage, sombr charms the crowd with alt-pop ease. Fresh off some headline dates across Australia, it seems like the country cannot get enough of him.
Dominic Fike arrives with a tight band and a reminder that whatever else he does, music is still his strongest weapon. The crowd moves. That’s the test. He passes.
By the time Doechii hits the stage, the rain is coming down properly. Security hands out ponchos to photographers like battlefield rations. Doechii doesn’t flinch. She spits rhymes like machine-gun fire and the crowd fires them straight back, word for word, soaked and smiling and alive.
Walking out wet, cold, and thoroughly sodden, it’s impossible not to think this might be one of the best line-ups Spilt Milk has ever delivered. Proof, once again, that if the music is good enough, people will come. And they’ll stay. Even in the rain.
Images and Words Deb Pelser
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