Arrival: the wrong side of the fence

Overtone's first impression is the back of a stage.

Most punters arrived from the north and east: from the rideshare drop-off on Musgrave Avenue, or on foot from the Kumbari Avenue corner. The only gate sat at the far south-west corner of the site. So for most of the crowd, the opening act was a long walk around the perimeter fence, looking straight into back of house. Two of us arrived from different directions, and both of us walked the full fence line. One punter summed it up more colourfully (see Overheard).

It's a costly miss for an event whose greatest asset is its setting. Musgrave Park is mature trees and natural slopes, the kind of venue promoters spend a fortune trying to fake. The architect Frank Lloyd Wright built a career on compression and release: lead people down a narrow, enclosed path, then open it up so the space hits all at once. Overtone has the trees to do exactly that.

The fix: a second gate on the Musgrave Avenue side, reached by a lit path that winds through the trees. It would roughly halve the walk for most of the crowd, and turn a scavenger hunt into the first act of the show.

The welcome most punters got: perimeter fence and back of house, a long way from the only gate.

Getting in: textbook, once you find it

The gates themselves were textbook. ID check, then bags, then tickets, then wristbands: the standard order, and it's standard for a reason. At 3:26pm we were through in two and a half minutes. Security pointing people to the right lane kept it moving.

The lane split didn't age as well. Five no-bag lanes and three bag lanes suited the early crowd. By 5pm the bag queue ran 10 to 20 metres while the no-bag lanes sat empty, and the wait stretched to 10 to 15 minutes. Flexing lanes as the crowd changes is a staffing decision, not a capital cost.

Lane signage was vertical corflute, which disappears the moment a crowd forms in front of it. Overhead truss signs or feather flags would fix that cheaply.

Entry at 3:26pm: two and a half minutes from queue to wristband.

Finding your way: a map without a "You are here"

The site passes the 10-second map test, just. Two four-sided map boards and four slimmer pillars carried the site map, in the festival's pixelated style. Two problems: a halo band across the top of each board covers part of the signage on all four sides, and no board tells you where you're standing. A "You are here" sticker on each one is a ten-dollar fix.

The site is small, about five minutes end to end, so once you have your bearings it's easy. Getting them is harder than it needs to be. Signage to the toilets was thin.

First aid is the one that matters. It was a tent tucked into a corner with a single corflute sign, and both of us struggled to spot it. Nobody who needs first aid should need a map to find it. Put it on every board with a big red cross, and sign it from the main walkway.

The map boards: the halo band hides the top of the signage, and there's no "You are here".

First aid: tucked into a corner behind a single corflute sign.

The Ascend problem

Ascend sits in a natural bowl in the corner of the site. That's great for sightlines and poor for getting in and out. There's one way in and one way out: a path about 1.5 metres wide over a stormwater pipe. Between sets it jammed in both directions.

The fix is a second access point, perhaps a small scaffold bridge on the opposite side, with one-way flow: in one side, out the other. The drainage line may be why that wasn't approved.

Ascend also has no toilets. The only block is a hike uphill, so some punters improvised on the fence line instead. The fencing contractor will find out exactly how that went when the panels come back.

One small one: the stage was called Habitat in the pre-event marketing and Ascend on the site map. Pick one.

The only way in or out of Ascend: a path about 1.5 metres wide.

Bars: fast, until they ran dry

The bars were the operational win of the day. There were four, counting the Red Bull bar and the tequila container. Queues snaked properly, and staff actually enforced it: walk in the exit and you get sent round. Every wait we measured was two minutes or less, and nothing went past five. Free water from tanks sat beside every bar, though one station left a slippery patch of mud around it.

Then the main bar behind Circuit ran out of nearly all its alcohol by 8:30pm, with an hour and a half of music left. Most of the crowd took it in their stride. That's not something an organiser should rely on.

The tequila container had no menu and no prices. Punters can't buy what they can't see, and for a sponsor bar that's money left on the counter.

The Red Bull bar was central and always busy. Its vodka Red Bulls were mixed ahead of time and left sitting in open cups on the counter. It's fast service, but one woman in our group wouldn't buy a drink she hadn't watched being made. Pouring to order, or putting lids on the premixes, wins that customer back.

And one mystery: I was asked to take my sunglasses off to order a drink. To borrow from Corey Worthington: I'll say sorry, but I'm not taking off my glasses. (I did, in the end.)

The bar menu: $13.50 a beer, $17.50 a vodka Red Bull.

The tequila bar: no menu, no prices, no sign saying "bar".

Food: it does the job

Six vendors covered burgers and fries, steak, pizza, wings, Mexican and chai. It's classic soak-it-up festival food, with thin vegetarian options (Mexican and halloumi). There were no queues worth noting all day, and enough picnic tables nearby to eat sitting down. We didn't eat, so there's no verdict on the food itself.

Toilets: enough capacity, wrong configuration

There were enough toilets. The layout was the problem.

It was one mixed block, with lines forming wherever people felt like it. One line fed about 20 toilets, while several others fed about 10 each. Picking the short line every time, my worst wait was 11 minutes at 4:35pm. The 10-toilet lines moved slower, and most people never noticed the difference. By 6pm things eased, and by 7pm there was no line at all. The block was also a long way from every stage.

Two things made it worse. The urinals existed, but they were tucked in a corner with no sign, so a Kiwi bloke I queued with spent the best part of ten minutes asking where they were. And the portaloo locks showed occupied when nobody was inside, so plenty of people stood waiting for empty toilets.

Credit where it's due: soap and paper never ran out, and the block was serviced through the evening.

The fix: separate blocks, one way in and one way out, a marshal at peak to balance the lines, and signage for the urinals like they're the headliner.

The toilet block at 4:35pm. Pick the right line and it was 11 minutes. Most people didn't.

Staff, safety and cleaning

Security was friendly and visible. We felt safe all day and saw no incidents, and the emergency exits were clearly signed. Staff numbers looked right for the crowd.

The standout was the cleaning crew from Clean Vibes. They were constantly clearing tables and emptying bins. Cups piled up at the free water station by the Canopy bar, and 30 minutes later it was clear, with an extra bin. Late in the evening one cleaner was working through the portaloos clearing cans. They were less visible after dark, and the cans dropped in front of the stages are on the punters, not the cleaners.

Mid-afternoon at the Canopy water station. Thirty minutes later: cleared, with an extra bin.

Production and sound

Every stage sat at the foot of a natural slope, so sightlines from the back were excellent. Screens behind each stage, the lighting and the lasers carried the night, and dust in the air turned the lasers into solid beams. Set times ran on schedule with no visible changeover lag.

Circuit put punters on the stage right beside the DJ, and it was one of the best things on site. Nothing explained how to get up there, though. If it's VIP, sell it. If it's invite-only, say so.

The sound was loud enough to move to and quiet enough to talk over, though a few punters wanted Circuit louder. There was slight bleed from Circuit into the back of Ascend, but only if you listened for it. The front-of-house tents took prime real estate and looked scrappy in daylight. A tidy wrap would help.

Circuit: punters on the stage, right next to the decks.

Two festivals: by day and by night

Overtone is two festivals wearing one wristband.

By day, it looks like a building site with a sound system. The map pillars had visible scaffold chocks and plain concrete weights. The scaffold hangout was grey, bare and uninviting. There was one photo opportunity, at the entry. Overtone's brand is loud pink and purple, and almost none of it made it onto the site. There was also nowhere to sit near the stages but the dirt, and if it had rained that would have been mud.

Sponsors and activations tell the same story. Red Bull and one tequila brand were the only ones we saw, both as bars.

The fixes are mostly colour, and some of it could be sponsor-funded:

• Wrap the scaffolding in brand colours.

• Scatter pink and purple bean bags around the stages and the hangout.

• Use the trees. Hang decor, inflatables and coloured umbrellas from the branches to mark paths and make the site feel built for the day, not just the night.

By night, it's a different event. The lasers, the lit stages and festoon lights through the trees turn the self-described woof doof (it's in a dog park, well played) into a proper bush doof. The trees, lit up, are the best argument for this location.

Right now, Overtone is best experienced after sunset. If you're going next year, arriving mid-afternoon loses you very little.

The hangout area, by day and by night. Same structure, different festival.

After dark, the trees do the theming.

The crowd

Not one dickhead all day. The crowd was friendly, open to a chat, and knew who they'd come to see. We met people who'd flown in from Cairns and driven up from Byron. Perfect weather didn't hurt.

Value for money

GA tickets climbed through five releases, from $184.90 to $244.90 including fees. We paid the final release. A beer was $13.50 and a vodka Red Bull $17.50. That's in line with festivals nationally, which is exactly the problem: the ticket, a few drinks and some food comes to well over $300 before transport.

For context, Overtone shares its headliners with its sister events, Mode in Sydney and Freeform in Melbourne, the same weekend. Mode's GA tickets in 2025 ran from $169.90 to $214.90. Wildlands Brisbane, with a mainstream line-up at a far bigger site, has GA tickets from $229.99 for its next edition. The punter who said Wildlands was the same price wasn't wrong. If anything, it's cheaper.

The line-up is credible and well curated, from Barry Can't Swim to Richie Hawtin. But it's a niche bill at a boutique site, priced like a major festival. Overtone benefits from scarcity: nothing quite like it happens on the Gold Coast, so people save up for it. That goodwill won't last forever.

Final word

The organisers took a risk on a location and a format the Gold Coast didn't have, and in year two the bones are excellent. The bars were fast, the site felt safe, the cleaners worked hard, and the night is genuinely special.

What's missing is the first impression and the daytime. A second gate, a better way into Ascend, and some colour before dark would close most of the gap between the price and the experience.

• Who it's for: electronic music fans after a boutique day-to-night party close to home.

• Who should skip it: anyone after a mainstream headliner for the money, or a pretty daytime hang.

• Tips for next year: come in from the south-west to avoid the fence walk, use the big toilet line, and make sure you're there for sunset.

• Would we go again? Yes, and we'll be back to review it in 12 months. Woof woof.