Dear Diary: On Location at Dark Mofo (Day Six)

Dark Mofo 2025
Hobart, Tasmania
Diary Entry: Day Six

“Still living deep in the spell now.” – ‘Sleepwalk’, Luminous, Faris Badwan, The Horrors 2014.

Lyrically this closing track to the Essex-based quintet The Horrors’ fourth studio album is in-all-likelihood, relating to a separation between a couple (whether it is vocalist Faris Badwan directly, or people close to him, is to a degree, a mystery); however, the six aforementioned words capture the marvellous mystique of Dark Mofo wondrously.

As is frequently discussed in any artistic interpretation, the meaning is essentially up to the observer. In terms of lyricism, or poetry, what the words represent can be deciphered into an almost uncountable abundance of definitions. Nearing the end of this magical festival, the events were ramping up and there was no escape to, or desire to, not be “…living in the spell now”. If anything, the festivalgoers wanted to go deeper and darker – The Horror’s were to be a momentous part of its soundtrack (with a rather suiting band name). However, it is the explorations of the depths and other abstract venues where the spellcasting lies.

The wanderings took this writer and hundreds more to an 1870s defunct sandstone church entitled Basilica, which was being utilised as a “sanctuary of art” with drinks and firepits. On this evening though, there were to be two artistic exhibitions that were tremendously terrorific in nature being presented within the decommissioned church. Travis Ficarra’s Chocolate Gobin and Karina Utomo’s Mortal Voice alongside curator CŪRĀ8.

The Chocolate Goblin statue was a magnificent monstrosity with a truly imposing presence. At five metres tall, the sculpture had a magnetism that was impossible to avoid; it was transfixing. The design was installed in the altar space and showcased the edge of desire and disgust via a naked, pregnant, demonic goblin. It was splendidly evil, and the resistance to look away was unfeasible, much like the portrait of Vigo The Carpathian in Ghostbusters 2.

To remove focus from the glorious grotesquery, a white screen was placed near the other end of the building with a sizable area zoned off in front of it. Only around 100 hundred guests were allowed into the event, so the available space became filled rather quickly and visibility became challenging. Suddenly, the conversations minimised and an eerie quiet overtook the church. There was no announcement, the anticipation, displays and aura became the indication that very soon, a spellbinding demonstration was about to take place.

A chilling metallic murmuration began emerging from the corners of the venue, becoming louder to the point of deafening. Karina Utomo then appeared in both person and on the screen, she then enacted extreme metal vocalisations inspired by ancestral resonances and Javanese mythology. This was not done in synchronisation, the mesmerising footage was taken from a previous artistic performance; this one-off extravaganza was to be the only live version in Basilica.

Ms. Utomo has unveiled her rapturous screams, growls and vocal distortions for many years in bands such as: High Tension, KILAT, RINUWAT and even Young & Restless – in this realm though, the spirituality and intensity was eminently immeasurable.

The sharp shrieks, scintillating snarls and animalistic humming and drones left witnesses aghast in entrancement; Utomo would grasp her daggers (known as “Kris” or “Keris”) and stalk HER region of floorspace, with intense gazes. She was in her metallic meditative state and all the spectators underwent the spell journey that she curated.

The Horror(s) at the Odeon

The Horrors
Odeon Theatre, Hobart TAS
‍June 12, 2025

13 years is a long time between visits and considering the psychedelic post-punk shoegazers The Horrors were only officially performing at Dark Mofo this year (a somewhat secret and exclusive set was executed at Melbourne’s 3RRR), witnessing a mad rush to the stage for many attendees was expected, but not to THAT level of eagerness. A blink later, and the Odeon Theatre was at capacity – this was going to be unforgettable.

The venue lighting in an instant became absent, the chatter erupted into roaring cheers and screams, a red glow and then a ghostly electronic emittance radiated from the venue’s speakers. A creepy and surprising soft instrumentation wailed in psychedelic wonderment growing the post-punk gloom, bassist Rhys Webb then guided the song with a Peter Hook stimulated bass line that was enhanced by drummer Jordan Cook’s remarkable rhythm. The charismatic frontman Faris Badwan then brilliantly bewildered the devotees with his baritone croon:

“Walking the length of the city like a child,
Waiting for the call.
Searching the streets for directions,
The endless life, emotion never shown.”

Keyboardist Amelia “Millie” Kidd then joined in the serenade adding an illumination to the twilight as the journey that is ‘The Silence That Remains’ progressed and built from a phenomenal Joy Division instruction, toward a Gothtronica soundscape Crosses ††† would be envious of. Admirers were dancing throughout the venue, even on stairwells that lead toward the bars. The aura was now of a soul-stirring post-punk party and it was Luminous.

‍‘Three Decades’ was a throwback to 2009 that intensified the punk presence with its fast-paced tempo and astonishing noise rock interlude; ‘Mirror’s Image’ then eased this frenzy with a more new wave pop direction similar to The Cure. ‘Silent Sister’ had a pulsating industrial disturbance that Trent Reznor would have been fascinated by. The agony of Mr. Badwan’s lyrics in the chorus: “I can't even breathe It's hard to speak” was amplified by the discordant synth density and entranced the audience immensely.

‍‘Sea Within A Sea’ returned to The Cure pop motif, but with elements of Martin Hannett production. At this point in the evening, it was becoming resplendently apparent that Hobart was witnessing an arena show in a theatre setting, and it was remarkable. ‘Endless Blue’ commenced with a cinematic post-rock adventure that transformed into a Brit-Pop-Punk amalgamation which Intertpol wish they wrote. ‘Still Life’ was a breathtaking ballad where the quintet showcased their ability of stadium synthpop tenderness. ‘More Than Life’ recalled David Bowie and New Order at the same time and was too beautiful to describe properly in this article. ‘Ghost’ was an astounding highlight that explored the sonic landscapes of trip-hop, from Portishead, to Massive Attack and then to the more modern HAELOS; simply stunning.

The loud/quiet dynamic of ‘Who Can Say’ was spectacular and a fantastic fusion of The Killers, The Strokes and glimmerings of Cap’n Jazz. The quintet’s performance was passionate and theatrical and concluded in a convulsion of euphoria.

“Thank you, goodnight, goodbye…”

The demand for an encore was intense, nearing a riot. Thankfully the five-piece returned where Faris genuinely stated: “Thank you so much for coming to see us!”

The band then enriched the lively atmosphere with ‘Lotus Eater’ that was elegantly ethereal, as if The Horrors had become the offspring of Moby, Active Child and Matt Berninger. ‘Scarlet Fields’ was testament to why the outfit are one of the acts at the forefront of the post-punk revival, its noise rock conclusion was charismatically charged. Then closer ‘Something To Remember Me By’ lived up to its title flawlessly, a darkwave dance pop anthem of vast radiance. It is so impossibly infectious that dancing and singing-along actually takes over the witnesses’ consciousness and leaves them spellbound.

Tasmania is “Still living deep in the spell now.”

Words by Will Oakeshott @teenwolfwill