Review: Fremantle Winter Music Festival in North Fremantle
Fremantle Winter Music Festival in North Fremantle
Saturday, June 20, 2026
RTRFM’s Fremantle Winter Music Festival returned on Saturday night, bringing together a stacked lineup of local artists to venues across North Freo.
The station’s Out To Lunch DJs got the groove underway early, their rhythms blending with the murmur of conversation drifting through the Mojos Courtyard. As the beats intensified, purple stage lights and warm gothic candles brought a smoother vibe, helping ease punters into the night.
Inside Mojos, the stage was set perfectly for opener Karianne. Danceable drumbeats, the bassist’s cellist-like control, and an overall spaciousness to the music were a nice welcome for early arrivals, making for an intimate start to the festival. After some balladry from Harmony Ronsloe, it was time for the first march down Queen Victoria St.
The Swan Hotel Lounge had a healthy, well-established crowd in for Anika Louise. A sweet, infectious energy filled the room, generated by both audience and performer, peaking with a cover of ROLE MODEL’s Sally, When The Wine Runs Out. From the deck, 201 Underground murmured…
Despite being early in the evening, a small, dedicated group of early-bird ravers swayed on the dappled dance floor for Agapantha b2b DJ Sweetpea in the downstairs room. It was an infectious rhythm, even to the bartenders as pastel-coloured glow-in-the-dark lighting made for a mysterious mood. It was too cool to be a nightclub but still had a Pineapple Cruiser-friendly vibe.
Jack Carroll Band began shaking the upstairs with Motown levels of groove. With the music in safe lips from the horns and the whole group overall a well-oiled machine, the performance was worthy of a resounding “testify.” The audience was just as tight, potentially a record attendance for the venue, with a striped-shirt individual proving to be the rock of the audience, even leading the crowd in a squat and jump in one of the songs. With the entrance blocked by humanity, an elongated walk through the downstairs was required. A brief venture back later would prove this to be the peak of its activity.
Over at Port Beach Brewery, the dual-stage setup encouraged a constant migration between the former Railway Hotel’s interior room and multi-tiered beer garden. The renovations may have elevated the space, but there’s still that touch of a silk purse from a sow’s ear. Tonight though, the venue reached beyond its cover-band reputation, with a steady crowd brewing from the first set on.
Inside, Skortz wasted little time establishing themselves as one of the evening’s must-see bands. Their songs are thick with local references, broad Australian accents and recognisable frustrations but never collapse into novelty. Whether taking aim at a shit boss, a failed son or sunscreen in winter, their accusations arrived thick and bold without ever feeling like mere grievances: These girls will say it to your face. Their frontwoman’s habit of darting between the two mics mirrored the band’s restless momentum, while rapid-fire tongue-twister verses gave way to anthemic shouted hooks. Funny and sharply observed, they consistently breathe life into a style that can feel formulaic elsewhere. By the time sweat was becoming a problem despite the cold, the room was fully won over.
Outside, Streetlights offered a pleasant enough counterpoint. The Ellenbrook five-piece leant into jangly indie rock, buoyed by harmonic exchanges between multiple vocalists and an earnest enthusiasm that proved difficult to dislike. References to Lockie Leonard and Matthew Pavlich landed exactly where intended, while a brush with Tears for Fears flirted dangerously close to the cover-band instincts this venue often caters to. They skirted the edge without falling in.
Back inside, Oosterbanger brought one of the evening’s loudest sets courtesy of their drummer. Not simply loud in volume but in impact. The drums crashed through the room with punishing force, transforming the interior into a pressure cooker and sharpening the edges of the band’s grunge-informed sound. Dense guitar textures mattered more than riffs, while the vocals soared freely through the chaos without ever seeking polish. Angry and alert one moment, pensive the next, Oosterbanger’s identity felt fully formed and not merely performative, forged through politics, personality and sheer force of will.
If Oosterbanger weaponised volume, BD Minerals recalibrated the outdoor stage altogether. Beginning with deep bass throb and angular guitar lines, the trio built tension through dissonance, atonality and a curious emotional detachment. An alarm-tone pulse opened one song before exploding into frantic release, while the vocals fluctuated between deadpan spoken word and a decaying yell. Amusingly, feedback appeared to frustrate the band more than the audience, who seemed perfectly content to let these abstractions wash over them. As the frontman eventually clarified, “I’m not angry.” Fair enough. Though it’s hard to imagine music like this without a reservoir of unrepentant rage, and who could blame them?
Doctopus followed with an entirely different kind of refusal. Ragtag, where BD Minerals were austere, they drifted between melodic choruses, shambolic detours and unexpectedly tight rock-and-roll grooves. The energy was all over the place, yet fascinating for exactly that reason. At times they recalled Pavement’s ageless slacker cool, somehow feeling younger than they likely are. Elsewhere, darker currents emerged through lyrics about drinking alone, emotional support animals and punching bags. There was something of Gareth Liddiard’s gift for finding beauty in ugly truths (and sounds) at work here: not nasal in delivery but similarly unconcerned with prettiness. Defeat and optimism occupied the same songs, hanging around the dog beach together.
The footpath presented a fresh wave of festivalgoers on the walk back to Mojos; many of them eventually settling in for Flora Road. The four-piece kicked off their set with a hypnotic groover; the line “You want to be where the money is; I want to be where the people are” reverberated through the room and in memories later. In a set that included their latest release After the Talk, their lush, swaying sound helped the crowd settle closer to the stage.
For the plentiful festival attendees that deemed Mojos was the place to be, Gloss began their set without introduction. Rising pedal noise evolved into the first number, a driving journey before an early appearance of debut single Rosary, which led to greater passion and energy from the band. Spines shook from the singer’s screams, heads bopped involuntarily to the drummer’s commanding kick, and the guitars left minds lucid—although a faulty guitar strap drove the singer to the floor in dramatic fashion for the finale.
After a moment to recover, Maple rounded off the evening. All donning matching sunglasses, 1966 Andy Warhol style, they began a boogie perfect for the wee hours. The keyboard player’s precision and the horn section’s smooth arrangements suggested WAAPA’s finest had turned out for the occasion. Those who had someone to get close with got close; those who didn’t swayed with closed eyes—or knitted a jumper, in the case of one attendee.
Meanwhile, back at Port Beach Brewery, Bribes impressed with their clean songwriting and bright indie-pop sensibility, though the set was frequently undermined by the distracting antics of their keyboard player. Thankfully, Josten Myburgh’s contributions on “golden clarinet” injected some much-needed squealing catharsis into proceedings.
By the time Datura 4 took the stage, the crowd had reached that particular point in the evening where inhibition loosens and a boob or two is flashed. Led by Dom Mariani’s weathered vocals and fluid guitar work, the outfit delivered groove-heavy rock steeped in 1970s influences without feeling like a tribute act. The grooves were undeniable, the riffs immediate and the audience increasingly willing participants. While the songs rarely strayed far from conventional structures, opportunities for keyboards and guitars to stretch out provided welcome colour: those keys tinkering just below the bulk of the guitar… just gorgeous. Datura 4 felt less like revivalism and more like the real thing: darker, deeper and entirely comfortable in its own skin.
RTRFM definitely brought people’s love for local live music out again with the Freo Winter Music Festival. The multi-venue setup had a sense of adventure rather than obstacle and the performers alike were just as loving as the punters, regularly thanking the station not just for another awesome festival, but for its year-round support of local music.
CAT LANDRO & AJ MAHAR
Photos by Thomas Aquilina
