Live4MusiC

Sure, Mosaic hasn't reached the scale and ambition of the San Miguel Primavera Sound in Barcelona in May or SXSW in Austin, Texas, in March, but what Mosaic has going for it is its unerring devotion to quality.

That entails an element of risk-taking, which is sometimes greater than most expect.

Occasionally, some acts can't fill the halls. That happened to wyrd-folk heroine Vashti Bunyan, who was too obtuse for an 11pm slot at the 1,600-seat Concert Hall last year.

Still, that artistic gambit was worth it. It sent out a clear message to increasingly sophisticated music fans here, and to those in the region who fly here to catch Mosaic: That the Esplanade will go out on a limb to bring in stellar musicians. It's branding worth cultivating.

So, never mind media talk about so-called "concert fatigue"; it boils down to choosing the right acts for the right time.

That pure passion for music is the hallmark of a great festival. It's infectious. It's the same rush when you first fall in love with a song. It's a milestone, a powerful Proustian trigger of great memories.

This was manifest in various, sometimes contrarian, ways at Mosaic this year.

The audience went wild for the charismatic Jamie Lidell. They gladly chanted the lyrics of Another Day as the sprightly one roused all to their feet. A seriously funny raconteur and a sizzling vocalist, he invoked a whole orchestra simply by looping and layering his beatboxing.

At the Tortoise gig, the crowd were wowed by the band's rarefied level of musicianship.

Their agile amalgamation of spaghetti-western and Orientalia in I Set My Face To The Hillside was stunning. The crowd roared.

In contrast, you could hear a pin drop at Joanna Newsom's late-night soiree.

Her music, ornate, very smart and otherworldly, was so different from the rest of today's pop, all, or most, were rapt (or at least, couldn't believe what they were hearing).

The easy way she had with her ginormous harp was impressive, and the audience hanged on her fluid, dizzying plucking of strings, and that unmistakable trill, alternately child-like and witchy, spinning epics ranging far and wide.

I had seen her in Lille, northern France last September, with the same set-up, and she seemed a little perturbed then, fastidiously retuning the harp all the time. At Mosaic, the mood was different. Ever the perfectionist, she was in tip- top form, even apologising for a "mistake" at the end of In California. What that mistake was, only she would know.

"I'm nervous tonight... This is the last gig of a one-year tour with the same band," she said. "I want it to be perfect."

The performance was perfect, including that tiny, imperceptible flaw.

It's such serendipitous moments you cannot plan for that mark Mosaic as a very special thing to cherish.

- My Paper