- Except for Sex Tags Mania, cosmic disco and a penchant for black metal, I didn't know much about Norway's music scenes before my trip to Oslo last week. I had, though, heard that Norwegians love festivals. Every year, around 30% of the population attend one, which is triple the average US attendance and six times more than the British. If they love festivals so much, I thought, they must be good at running them. So I arrived at Øya Festival expecting a polished, well organised event with an impeccable lineup—and that was exactly what I found.
Since it launched in 1999, Øya ("island" in Norwegian) has grown into one of the country's most diverse and respected festivals. Recent editions have taken place across a grassy stretch of Tøyen Park, which felt like the perfect size. There was plenty to explore and see, but you never had to walk more than five minutes to get to another stage. Every aspect of the organisation felt thoughtful. The outdoor stages were set on slopes so everyone got a good view whether they were sitting, standing or moshing. There was never a significant queue for anything. The crowd and staff were universally friendly and polite, meaning that you could slip right to the front of the crowd, even for headliners. Overall, it was a logistical dream.
This would all mean very little if the bookings weren't up to scratch, but again Øya exceeded expectations. It's not a specialist festival, and there was something of quality to suit all tastes. I spent the majority of my time at Hi-Fi Klubben, a black barn-like stage reserved for electronic DJs and live acts. It packed an immense Bowers & Wilkins soundsystem and was kitted out with lights and visuals more befitting a super-club. It also provided welcome shelter from Wednesday's torrential downpours. As the heavens opened, Volvox delivered an expertly-paced set of jacking techno and snarling acid, before Sadar Bahar loosed his personal brand of cosmic funk on the crowd. His closing one-two punch—Linda Evans' "You Control Me" into Twinkie Clark's "Awake O Zion"—was euphoric, driving the rain far from our minds.
Local hero Telephones played Thursday's best set to a packed stage, selecting humid house cuts that had the whole crowd dancing. At the end, he brought the energy right down with PLO Man's "TX-i" before slamming in Andronicus' 90's house bomb "Make You Whole." After a curiously perfunctory set from Madlib, the electronic tent picked up again on Friday, with live sets from Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith and Marie Davidson. The latter oozed cool with weapons-grade drum tracks and the disengaged attitude of a New Wave chanteuse, but it was Smith's set that really impressed. She teased opalescent melodies from her Buchla synth as the evening sun streamed in through the dark tent. Though every sound was synthetic, something in the arrangements and textures evoked the natural world. After a few full days of dancing, her performance felt mercifully restorative.
For those that still had the energy, Øya arranged a series of afterhours club nights. From what I experienced, Oslo's club scene seems small but engaged. The venues mostly exuded a warm, relaxed atmosphere, with few fancy lights and big chill-out spaces. The best sets I saw came from two core members of Stockholm's Studio Barnhus crew. Kornél Kovács played sunny house in the attic above Rockefeller. It felt more like a loft party than a club night, as he brought the crowd to a boil with Genius Of Time tunes like "Houston We Have A Problem" and "Tuffa Trummor." Two nights later, Baba Stiltz played my favourite set of the whole festival at the gaudy Dattera Til Hagen, standing pokerfaced as he cut between piano bangers, raucous bongo tracks and curveballs like Million Stylez' "Miss Fatty."
In addition to the electronic artists, I was pleased to catch the likes of Young Thug, Spiritualized, The Pixies and Vince Staples, all of whom gave energetic performances to packed audiences. They seemed genuinely happy to be there, picking up on the positive vibe. In the spirit of openness that dominated Øya, it felt fitting to end the week with Oumou Sangaré, one of many leftfield bookings. The sky was a heavy leaden colour but the Malian singer breathed light and warmth into the flagging crowd. As psychedelic guitar solos and ululations filled the air, it started to rain. I barely felt it.
Photo credit /
Annaler Heimask
Ihne Pedersen
Erik Moholdt
Helge Brekke
This would all mean very little if the bookings weren't up to scratch, but again Øya exceeded expectations. It's not a specialist festival, and there was something of quality to suit all tastes. I spent the majority of my time at Hi-Fi Klubben, a black barn-like stage reserved for electronic DJs and live acts. It packed an immense Bowers & Wilkins soundsystem and was kitted out with lights and visuals more befitting a super-club. It also provided welcome shelter from Wednesday's torrential downpours. As the heavens opened, Volvox delivered an expertly-paced set of jacking techno and snarling acid, before Sadar Bahar loosed his personal brand of cosmic funk on the crowd. His closing one-two punch—Linda Evans' "You Control Me" into Twinkie Clark's "Awake O Zion"—was euphoric, driving the rain far from our minds. Local hero Telephones played Thursday's best set to a packed stage, selecting humid house cuts that had the whole crowd dancing. At the end, he brought the energy right down with PLO Man's "TX-i" before slamming in Andronicus' 90's house bomb "Make You Whole." After a curiously perfunctory set from Madlib, the electronic tent picked up again on Friday, with live sets from Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith and Marie Davidson. The latter oozed cool with weapons-grade drum tracks and the disengaged attitude of a New Wave chanteuse, but it was Smith's set that really impressed. She teased opalescent melodies from her Buchla synth as the evening sun streamed in through the dark tent. Though every sound was synthetic, something in the arrangements and textures evoked the natural world. After a few full days of dancing, her performance felt mercifully restorative.
For those that still had the energy, Øya arranged a series of afterhours club nights. From what I experienced, Oslo's club scene seems small but engaged. The venues mostly exuded a warm, relaxed atmosphere, with few fancy lights and big chill-out spaces. The best sets I saw came from two core members of Stockholm's Studio Barnhus crew. Kornél Kovács played sunny house in the attic above Rockefeller. It felt more like a loft party than a club night, as he brought the crowd to a boil with Genius Of Time tunes like "Houston We Have A Problem" and "Tuffa Trummor." Two nights later, Baba Stiltz played my favourite set of the whole festival at the gaudy Dattera Til Hagen, standing pokerfaced as he cut between piano bangers, raucous bongo tracks and curveballs like Million Stylez' "Miss Fatty." In addition to the electronic artists, I was pleased to catch the likes of Young Thug, Spiritualized, The Pixies and Vince Staples, all of whom gave energetic performances to packed audiences. They seemed genuinely happy to be there, picking up on the positive vibe. In the spirit of openness that dominated Øya, it felt fitting to end the week with Oumou Sangaré, one of many leftfield bookings. The sky was a heavy leaden colour but the Malian singer breathed light and warmth into the flagging crowd. As psychedelic guitar solos and ululations filled the air, it started to rain. I barely felt it. Photo credit / Annaler Heimask Ihne Pedersen Erik Moholdt Helge Brekke