One of my favourite things about Australia is our festival culture. Remote bush raves, dusty roads, cheesy doof sticks, no reception and championing Australian acts. This year, I got a chance to grab a taster of Lost Paradise Festival in the Central Coast’s Glenworth Valley – a huge festival located in lush bush about 1.5 hours from Sydney and far enough from civilisation that it allows people to leave their real lives behind to take on a sun-soaked, Mad Max-style, musical utopia.
Big Wett dominated with ’90s-inspired dance beats and unapologetically explicit electro-pop, her sexual liberation anthems turning the entire crowd into her personal hype-man.
I opted not to drive without a parking pass, relying on a lift to the drop-off point before being shuttled down the hill into the campgrounds. I arrived on the busiest entry day and appreciated the warning that there would be a long wait time. As is tradition, I quickly found more solo travellers, which made the two hour wait in the blistering sun (it’s my fault, I left the sunscreen at home) less mundane. Despite the long wait time, the vibes were running high and there was a snake in the barn area we were waiting by which kept everyone well-entertained (queue: “I come from a land downunder”). As with all multi-day festivals, preparation is key and you have to go into it like Bear Grylls, be prepared with apocalyptic survival guides, chances are you will use everything you pack and you cannot dismiss the basics as “we’ll get it when we get there”. Water, sunscreen, hat, high-sugar snacks, access to money for amenities like ice, showers, and a hot meal from a vendor are all critically important.
Blusher unleashed glittery electro-pop chaos with synchronized choreography and infectious three-part harmonies that transformed simple hooks into massive sing-alongs.
This year’s Lost Paradise lineup featured the main stage, Arcadia, and a whole bunch of high-production deck-centric setups scattered throughout the valley. I was surprised to see the festival lean heavily into electronic acts this year – a departure from the usual guitar-and-drums heavy lineups (I’m a sucker for a good band) – but I was particularly excited to finish out the year catching a bunch of Aussie artists I’ve waited way too long to see including Blusher, Merci Mercy, BADASSMUTHA and Big Wett.
BADASSMUTHA delivered eclectic soul-meets-alt-pop with unfiltered charisma, the Githabul, Migunberri-Yugumbeh artist balancing vulnerability and humor with tracks like ‘DIZZY’ (“I’m a silly goose!”).
Super notable was the inclusion of Dancewize’s testing tent; these volunteers are at the forefront of radical harm-reduction safety, and they’re lovely people ready to support anyone who may need a hand, completely judgment-free. The festival also explicitly encouraged the mantra ‘Leave No Trace’, handing out big rewards for tidy camps, prioritising a recycling return program and reminding campers to take their tents home with them to use next year.
Merci Mercy served deceptively sweet indie-pop with a sharp edge, wrapping heavy themes of mental health and addiction in irresistibly catchy melodies.
Yasmina Sadiki captivated with her neo-soul atmosphere, weaving intricate vocal runs through hypnotic, layered soundscapes that turned the crowd meditative.
The crowd was immaculate in every moment; a sense of camaraderie radiated through the grounds. It was an idyllic scene, catching hundreds of revelers kick up dust with dance as the sun set over the beautiful valley. Golden hour was magnified tenfold and there are few things more beautiful than hundreds of doof sticks lighting up above a crowd at dusk.
Cost of living is rough this year, it’s no secret – but an event like Lost Paradise is worth every dollar if you’re into music and going off-grid. Even my brief taste left me wishing I’d committed to the full four days and I will absolutely be prepared to lean into the chaos, dust, and doof stick democracy of it all for 2026.
