Day two of Yours and Owls, and the weather has flipped the script. Yesterday’s blazing sun has given way to thick clouds and gusts of wind, a relief for some—but the unmistakable glow of sunburns on festival-goers betrays who braved the heat on day one.
Over on the main stage, The Courteeners keep things effortlessly cool, their set a slow-burn dream as the crowd sways in hypnotic admiration.
I sprint across to the Ocean Stage to catch Miss Kaninna, who masterfully weaves urgent political messages into infectious grooves. It’s heavy. It’s feel-good. It’s exactly what festival sets should be.
Babe Rainbow live up to their name, unfurling a swirling, sun-kissed set of psychedelic surf rock that washes over the crowd like a warm wave.
I rush to see Coterie’s set, the Fisher brothers are in fine form, their energy mirrored by a crowd that refuses to stand still.
And then—The Veronicas. A moment. A movement. A national singalong. I glance around and see security guards, photographers, die-hard fans, and casual punters alike all belting out their songs. For Australians of a certain age, The Veronicas are stitched into the fabric of their adolescence—and today, they’re proving they’re still dropping hits.
Then there’s Shame. A revelation. Bassist Josh Finerty looks as innocent as an alter boy, but the second the set starts, he’s a pinball on speed—careening across the stage, launching himself skyward like he’s powered by an underground spring. Frontman Charlie Steen doesn’t just break the fourth wall—he obliterates it, plunging into the crowd with fearless abandon. It’s raw, it’s chaotic, it’s everything live music should be.
Over on the Mountain Stage, Slowly Slowly are serving up a masterclass in riotous pop-punk catharsis. It’s a set built on pure, heart-on-sleeve anthems—equal parts sweat, sincerity, and soaring choruses that have the crowd hanging on every word.
Back at the main stage, The Kooks radiate pure indie cool, basking in the adulation that rolls over them like a tide. No rush, no fuss, just hit after hit.
Brisbane’s Sycco oozes effortless charisma, tossing out hazy, sun-drenched vibes like she’s controlling the weather herself.
As the final chords ring out and the festival grounds begin their slow transformation from fever-dream euphoria to the familiar trudge home, Yours and Owls cements itself once again as a pilgrimage worth making. It’s a festival that doesn’t just book big names—it curates moments, stitches together memories that will live under the skin long after the sunburns fade. As the lights dim on Wollongong’s shoreline, lighthouses standing sentinel, there’s no doubt—this is more than a festival. It’s a love letter to live music, and every note hits home.
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