Australia

Bluesfest 2025

“Music is the Language of us All”

Two minutes to open, and we saw the silhouette of the queue outside.

The staff were all smiles, but there’s a hum in the air: Is this the calm before the storm? Bluesfest 2025, the gates opened to a crowd that absolutely dwarfed last year's. The fear of this being the last ever Bluesfest had attracted the third-largest crowd in the festival's history: 109,000 patrons strong. The sun is blazing down, and the sky a perfect Byron blue. We’re back. And it’s big!

Click to view gallery

This year, we had the joy of backstage access, and we saw that the buzz was just as much in the artists as it was in the crowd. We witnessed musos cheering each other on from side stage, jumping in for surprise collaborations, and sticking around long after each set just to share the moment. There’s something contagious about that kind of joy, it’s the kind that ripples out from the stage and hits every person in the audience. You can tell when a musician is having an absolute ball on stage.

Almost every Aussie artist shared a personal Bluesfest story; the festival has always been more than just a lineup. It’s a reunion. A celebration. A chance for artists, fans, crews, and families to come together and be part of something bigger than themselves.

Kim Churchill was introduced as the “golden child” of Bluesfest. He first debuted on the busking stage in 2009, and now belts it out to a full crowd on one of the main stages. We saw him everywhere: side of stage at other sets, hopping in to play with Ash Grunwald, vibing with The Beards (big bushy fake beard included), and joining the Pierce Brothers’ incredible set. It became a thread running through the entire weekend. As with so many other musicians, the weekend wasn’t just about playing their own set, it was about coming together and celebrating each other’s music: “Bluesfest has always been my happy place. My musical home. And it's all the little moments that make it that. All the in between bits of absolute life affirming wholesomeness.”

John Butler told the story of playing Bluesfest twenty years ago. The tent was barely a quarter full, “Then the rain brought everyone in… It was like petrol and fire, and we just exploded!” A crew formed around him after that set and became a family that still rolls with him to this day.

“Music runs through my veins,” said Missy Higgins - her third Bluesfest performance. When Melbourne Ska Orchestra hit the stage, they reminded us that this festival kickstarted their career too, landing them their first-ever record deal. The Cat Empire launched into How to Explain and reminded us why this festival still matters. “Music is the language of us all,” they sang, and the crowd screamed it back. Other highlights included the massive, thousands-strong singalong to Toto’s Africa, Chaka Khan absolutely belting it like it’s 1978, Xavier Rudd grounding us all, before making us jump up and down to Follow The Sun.

Because music really is the language of us all. It’s connection. Especially at a time when we’re all feeling a little disconnected. John Butler, Nicky Bomba, and Xavier Rudd all shared this message. In times like this, it’s important that we find common ground, that we dance and sing together, that we celebrate the good parts of humanity. Live music isn’t just entertainment. It’s culture. It’s connection. It’s sticky floors and shared anthems. It’s strangers hugging in the dark because that one track just hit. It’s a rite of passage for teenagers, a returning pilgrimage for adults, and a heartbeat for regional towns that host these moments of collective joy.

It’s been a rough few years for the Australian live music scene. Fires, floods, and the pandemic delivered blow after blow, cancelling show after show. More recently, its economic woes have quietly and cruelly crushed festivals. Longstanding events, pillars of the Aussie music scene, are falling over like dominoes in a country known for its music and easy-going lifestyle.

These events remind us that we’re not alone. It shakes something loose in us and breaks the routine. Music festivals give us a reason to drive ten hours, to camp in the rain, to throw our arms around strangers and scream the lyrics until we lose our voices, and to volunteer days of work just to dance in front of the front row when Hilltop Hoods perform The Nosebleed Section.

So, here’s to the venues still opening their doors. To the events rolling the dice, the staff and vollies holding it all together, and to the artists playing their guts out. We need live music now more than ever. And thank goodness: Bluesfest isn’t done yet.