Grayson’s Saturday Night Iceland Airwaves Diary: A Slow Start & Strong Finish

My final day of Airwaves began with my own little tradition: failing to gather the energy to leave the house for the first few gigs I had hoped to see, skipping them and showing up late. My consolation is knowing that I’m not alone!

I managed to make it to Iðnó for Merina Gris, a synth-pop outfit from the Basque Country. With a frenetic stage presence and autotuned vocals alternating between sweet and shrieky, they were much more commanding on stage than I had anticipated. The bit of extra oomph from the live drums lent a punk intensity that isn’t as present in their recordings and set their live set apart. I found myself asking how they can perform in their rhinestone studded full-head masks that feature in all their official band photos. They must have been as uncomfortable as they look because they only lasted a few songs before they were ceremoniously removed.

If they played their incredible cover of Robyn’s “Dancing On My Own” (translated into Basque, of course), I’m sad to have missed it in order to skip to the next gig. But I swear that the last song I heard ended sample of the “I’m so sorry” line in Blink-182’s “I Miss You,” which was both a nostalgia bomb and touch of humour that had me laughing out the door.

Next up, at an unfairly early timeslot, was the artist I was most excited to see this year: Villano Antillano. By that, I mean she was the only non-Icelandic artist I actually recognized when the lineup dropped. For someone with such a brazen musical persona, her trap-heavy set was interspersed with surprisingly sincere dialogue, where she explained the meanings of her songs to the mostly non-Spanish speaking audience. This included empowering life advice on dumping a shitty boyfriend, jokes like “I’ve always said I’m just a whore making music for whores,” and a healthy dose of activism.

She insisted that she never set out to be political, but by being a transwoman in a still-colonised country, it was inescapable. Her chant of “free Palestine” was met with wild applause, while its follow-ups of “free Guam” and “free Hawai’i” left the audience scratching their heads. I hope they went home and googled it, because if they didn’t realize Puerto Rico was still a colony of the U.S. Empire, wait until they hear about Guam and connect the dots with Hawai’i!

She gave an introduction to reggaeton, both its roots in Puerto Rico and here on the dance floor in the Reykjavík Art Museum. I think she could have leaned more into her poppier tracks to better connect with this audience who miss the lyrics, but there was no doubt that they get the picture when she finally dropped the absolute banger of her collab with Bzrp that catapulted her to fame in 2022 and currently has 300,000,000 streams on Spotify. Someone get this woman a later timeslot next year, please!

Gaukurinn’s place in this year’s festival is a love it or hate it scenario. One friend said he loved that it offers an “intimate” option amongst the venues, while another said it was “a living hell.”

They’re both kind of right. The only time I braved the long line for the stanky, sauna-like atmosphere for the sake of intimacy was to see Hildur. I’ve been a fan since her early days with her folksy band Rökkurró, but I really fell for her early solo work as a pop artist. I honestly think she has one of the best and most distinct voices in the Icelandic music scene and she could sing any genre and I’d be into it. Opera? No problem. Techno? Yes, please! Black metal? If you say so, Hildur…

Hildur playing at Iceland Airwaves 2019/The Reykjavík Grapevine

In addition to some of her most iconic bops, she debuted a couple unrealeased songs from her upcoming album. Her synth-heavy singles from earlier this year lived up to her emotionally lyrical but cheerfully upbeat pop sound, but she also worked some slower ballads into the setlist that allowed her to show off the powerhouse of her voice. It was a delight to see her back in the game and it bodes well for the new album. I’m still crossing my fingers she’ll become Iceland’s next big pop export.

The last big gig for me last night was Bolis Pupul in Iðnó. He was the talk of the festival after his set with Charlotte Adigéry the night before, where they shocked and awed the hell out of us. The air of excitement was palpable and the fresh air streaming in the open door to the pond was glorious as the he heated up the room. The crowd burst to life as Bolis jumped into the beats from behind his deck.

For those of us who imagined this would be a DJ set, he quickly checked our expectations. Bolis grabbed the microphone and slipped into an unexpected pop star persona, singing with his own unaltered voice and even giving us a little dance. Although there were some elements that carried over from his set the night before, his personality really shone through in this solo set. The rhythms felt very modern, while heavy influences from 70s and 80s gave it a retro feeling at the same time. In between Kraftwerk-ish bleeps and Depeche Mode-esque bloops, he also sprinkled in some traditional Chinese melodies and even instrumentation.

Salah Pupul, his sister and musical collaborator, lent her vocals in a surprise appearance before he finished his set with a furious crescendo that built up to the point of explosion. In that moment of silence after the last song ends, the audience shared giddy looks amongst ourselves that said, “Holy shit, what did we just watch?”

That, my friends is the spirit of Airwaves. Although the festival may have become a mere spectre of its former glory, a specter is a spirit and I’m glad to know that at least that spirit lives on.

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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