Festivals, hold onto your hats — This year, Norway’s Øya takes the crown
As a music journalist, there are a few things that I’ve come to expect of festivals; flying cups of beer, drunken antics, litter, and absolutely filthy loos. It’s an experience almost synonymous around the globe, except at Norway’s largest music event, Øya. Since its conception 23-years-ago, Øya has been blazing a quiet yet mighty trail on Europe’s music circuit. This year, the Glastonbury-worthy lineup was just the icing on the cake of a truly singular festival experience, where attention to detail took centre stage.
With little to no fanfare, Øya has established itself as a pioneer when it comes to sustainability and gender equity. Of note is their 50/50 gender split, which has been in place since 2017 — while the likes of Primavera Sound and Wireless festival followed suit in 2019. But it is amidst the scorched earth of this summer, as temperatures continue to reach unprecedented levels that the event really cements itself as a fresh breath of air. After being crowned the world’s greenest music festival in 2020, Øya has doubled down on its efforts to work sustainability into every aspect of its production. There are no single-use plastics, just compostable and edible utensils; it’s been run on renewable energy for a decade, and nearly all the food is organic, low impact, and vegetarian. Even the human waste from the compostable toilets is later recycled to be used for district heating.
Striking too is the tranquil green of Tøyen Park, which is just a stone’s throw away from the city centre. As sunlight streams through the trees and across the natural amphitheatre, day one sets the tone with an eclectic mix of homegrown and international talent. There’s indie-folk duo, Kings of Convenience and the all-female black metal band, Witch Club Satan, followed by Princess Nokia and Gorillaz. As could be expected, the latter’s Damon Albarn puts on a bombastic and visually arresting performance, showing no signs of slowing down after a gruelling four months of touring.
On Thursday, the Best Band in the World, that is Irish quintet Fontaines D.C. battles the sun at the Vindfruen stage. While the chill crowd, which is so characteristic of Øya, clearly isn’t what frontman Grian Chatten is used to, the lack of a sizeable mosh pit doesn’t detract from their slew of bangers, old and new. Chatten, pacing the stage, belts out ‘Boys in the Better Land’ and ‘A Hero’s Death’, and closes on the arresting ‘I Love You’; his fingers outstretched to the crowd. Up next is the JARV IS…, which is, of course, Pulp’s Jarvis Cocker. Opening with a crowdpleaser from his former outfit, Cocker puts on a flamboyant performance, complete with hip thrusts and a towel that he wields over his head as he muses on pandemic-related discontent.
People drift out to catch the headliner of the day, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. With his ability to evoke awe, stillness and then laughter and raised hands, Cave continues his winning streak this year. As is typical of their sets, there are moments of the profound, but particularly now. The musician tragically lost his son, Jethro, back in May. As was the case at Primavera Sound just weeks after, the hush and respect Cave commanded when he played ‘Ghosteen’ made for the most arresting and emotional moment I’ve seen in a live performance to date. This set, while generally more up-tempo, has a similar sense of being a testament to life, now, and the people who are here, now. There is humour, too. He lovingly negs the crowd to put their phones away and pulls up an attendee on stage because he likes his t-shirt (it reads ‘SUCK MY DICK’). In a snap, the mood changes, as it becomes hard to subdue a well of emotion as Cave tenderly croons ‘O Children’, which he dedicates to a young girl in the crowd.
On Friday, Dagny brings production value and the party spirit in her white shell-suit and strain of Norweigan electro-pop. Fred Again… continues the dance vibes over in the Sirkus tent, while Bright Eyes bring a dose of noughties nostalgia. The headliner, though, is Florence + The Machine, who puts on an energetic show. Nimble and on her toes the entire time, she races across the stage, her red hair streaming behind her as she works her way through bonafide crowd pleasers like ‘Dog Days are Over’ and ‘Kiss with a Fist’. She’s open about her addiction issues too, before playing ‘Never Let Me Go,’ she shares: “I haven’t sung this in a long time because when I wrote it, I was very young and very drunk and very sad.” Suddenly the crowd of 20,000 feels very intimate; the mass parting like the red sea when she wades out, resplendent.
It’s the last day of Øya festival and the crowd remains calm, inclusive, welcoming. In what must be acknowledged as a miracle, the toilets remain clean, and there have rarely been queues for either booze or food. There are dedicated facilities and spaces for disabled and non-able-bodied attendees. It’s expensive, sure, a beer will put you back nearly a tenner, and it doesn’t incite a riotous crowd if that’s what you expect. But the point stands; the production has gone on without nary a hitch as the sun continues to beat down on the greenery of Tøyen Park and the final acts prepare to take the stage.
The first performance we catch is Little Simz, who again cements herself as one of London’s greatest rappers. She touchingly reflects on once wanting to play Øya — and just look at where she is now. As is tradition, a Norweigan star closes the show, and this time it’s the transcendent Aurora with her arresting vocals and synchronised Kate Bush-esque dance moves. A glowing moon provides the backdrop as people hold their phone lights under their reusable cups, illuminating the park. To close, she brings a huge LGBTQ+ flag on stage, and the pride rainbow flashes above. It is the perfect end to what has been a delightful and supremely comfortable experience. Every festival in the UK could learn something from Øya.
