After a hearty brunch, I start off with Flesh Machine’s off-venue performance at Lucky Records. I’ve noticed this band more and more these past couple of years, and they really seem to be onto something. They hit the stage with a confidence and precision that only comes from a well-rehearsed band, yet there’s still that rough, unpolished edge that makes the performance nuanced and interesting. The double guitars and bass create a gritty, layered texture, punctuated by intense drumming—both acoustic and digital.
Atli Freyr Steinsson for The Reykjavík Grapevine
Flesh Machine takes us on a journey, switching up the sound with synthesiser medleys that keep things unpredictable and alive.
At Chickpea, I have one of the best falafel wraps ever, then head to Lúpína’s set at Fríkirkjan, a beautifully intimate setting for an artist I’m curious to see. Before the music begins, a voice recording is played asking us to “stay in the present,” setting the tone for a moving concert experience.
The music is delicate, with a combination of organ, ethereal vocals, and piano that wash over us like waves. Hanging behind the band members are large jellyfish that add a surreal vibe. At one point, even handclapping feels disruptive—Lúpína’s sound is that delicate. But as the set picks up energy with songs like “Sad Club Song”, a song about environmental awareness, and a collaborative piece with Daði Freyr, it becomes clear that Lúpína’s sincerity and warmth are their biggest strengths. I can’t help but feel grateful for the soothing presence they bring to the room. Thank you, Lúpína.
Next, I head to the Art Museum and catch Villano Antillano from Puerto Rico. As she mentions, she’s “inescapably a transgender woman,” and her songs dive into her life and experiences. The music is a sultry mix of rap and reggaeton, accompanied by another rapper and a DJ who also does backing vocals. Even though some songs tackle serious subjects, Antillano keeps things light and positive throughout — you can tell they’re genuinely having fun on stage. She dedicates songs to “the girls,” “lesbians,” and “fruity boys who are in touch with their feelings.” The visuals are incredibly cool: neon-coloured and grainy. Love it.
I venture over to Nasa to catch Sun Dog. This three-piece band rocks sleeveless acid-wash and tie-dye shirts, with grainy, VHS-style psychedelic visuals that give off an 80s/90s aesthetic. They serve straight-up rock ‘n’ roll with wonderful, heavily distorted guitar solos, and their music makes me think of sun-drenched afternoons and long summer days.
Back at Kolaportið, I see Mandy, Indiana, which is a completely unique experience. A friend tells me their music reminds them of a washing machine, and honestly, I kind of agree… a washing machine loaded with EBM (electronic body music), industrial, and noise music! The sound is an intense blend of noise and rhythm, with French vocals sung at seemingly unpredictable intervals. Their visuals are a “DVD screensaver” with the band’s name. I can’t decide if that makes sense or not.
I scoot over to Iðnó, where DJ Margeir feat. Matthildur performs a set of new songs. This is a much-needed change of pace for at this point in the night. The music is minimalistic, dramatic, repetitive, and unmistakably DJ Margeir. Matthildur’s soulful vocals enhance the deep groove of the music. The visuals are mesmerizing—images of knives barely touching and icy formations, creating a surreal, dreamlike quality. The groove is hypnotic, pulling everyone into a shared rhythm.
Next on stage at Iðnó is Bolis Pupul, who I saw perform with Charlotte Adigéry the night before. I’m eager to catch his solo set. His performance is a wonderfully weird ride of tumbling beats and synth-driven melodies. Dressed in a neon shirt with matching visuals, Bolis has the crowd in the palm of his hand, crafting a hero’s journey of sound that feels almost magical. He welcomes on-stage a guest performer dressed head-to-toe in red, waving hello and singing — a strange but enchanting entrance that only adds to the show’s mystique.
Cumgirl8, an all-female, four-piece band, brings a chaotic and unabashedly raw energy, blending punk attitude with humour. Their visuals are a mix of old video games and memes. I’ll tell my kids these were the Spice Girls.
Joana Fontinha/The Reykjavík Grapevine
I swing back to the Art Museum and catch the last half-hour of Overmono’s DJ set, with deep, world-class club beats—a steady heartbeat grounding me after the night’s eclectic lineup.
Finally, Skrattar delivers a high-energy performance at Gaukurinn at 2 a.m., cracking jokes and raising hell to be honest. They urge everyone to get close and dance their ass off. With thundering bass lines, commanding vocals, and an infectious rhythm, they get the crowd moving in no time. Skrattar perform their latest single, “Hellbound,” along with their cover of Páll Óskar’s “Sama hvar þú ert,” and their already classics “Nýtt heimsmet í kvíðakasti karla” and “Drullusama.” Reykjavík’s bad boy band closes out the night and this years’ Iceland Airwaves on an unforgettable high.
Check out The Reykjavík Grapevine’s Iceland Airwaves Diaries, publishing daily throughout the festival to bring you all the good times.
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