Saturday came around, and I, being hungover for the fourth time in five days, was exhausted. As I pulled my curtains and discovered that the rain was pouring down, the motivation to head over to the festival to stand rainsoaked in a crowd of equally tired people waned some more.

Neverthless, I’m a brave dude, and after about two minutes of complaining and digging my rainboots out of the closet I headed down for the most electric day of the festival. Not usually a good idea on such a rainy day, what with electrocution and all looming, but turns out the grey conditions fitted the bands perfectly. Commence Crystal Castles from Canada (Yay alliteration!).

Crystal Castles performed. then my camera's battery went... doh!

There had been lots of doubt prior to the festival if they would show up or not after a series of crazy gigs and fighting with security people, but both Ethan Kath and Alice Glass showed up, even though the soundguy had decided to not let Alice’s vocals get from the stage and out into the audience. Dissapointing, since everyone could see she was screaming her lungs out. We all decided not to mind too much, and was jumping around like crazy after a few songs.

After Crystal Castles, me and festival pal of the day Knut walked over to the Beirut concert, which was predictably boring and scarily mariachiband meets polka in folksy comfortable clothing. I like Beirut’s record, but there seems to me very little point in getting soaked outside from 150 feet away watching them play.

Thus we split back to where the Crystal Castles had played and was gaping in utter disbelief at Karin Park who was sporting leopard tights and a friggin Keytar. To me, the keytar is just about the most awesome instrument in the world, right up there with the theremin, and I promptly fell in love. This is not to say that our mouths closed and we could get back to watching the show. It still took a while digesting the new look. Karin has gone from being an acoustic guitar girl I’d be stoked to show off to my grandmother to being a woman I would be scared to approach at a rave. But that’s not to say the change isn’t for the better.

The new Karin, which was relased with the album Ashes to Gold earlier this year is cold, longing, dark and electronic. And pretty awesome and accessible. She brought with her an amazing drummer who also managed to play bass with his left leg. That seemed paranormal, but yet again, me and Knut found ourselves jumping. As Karin finished up, we fell over to the Odden stage to catch UK bloghouse DJ Erol Alkan who was more or less opening for Röyksopp, the last act of the night and the festival. More on them tomorrow… Peace4now!

Trick number 1: crowdsurfing

Datarock has been touring the world for years now since releasing their self titled debut album in 2005. It’s been working out well for them thus far, and as long as crowds have showed up to concerts and the album has gradually gotten a bigger release, the band has avoided pressure from their label to go back to the studio to produce the next big Fa Fa Fa.

The new album, Red, isn’t as immediate as the old one, but still has some songs with great potential, though during the show at Øya, they leant heavily on old material.

Trick number 2: put the drummer front and center

Their current hit song, Give It Up, started off the show and was directly followed by Fa Fa Fa to kickstart the audience. It can be really dangerous to bang out your two biggest crowd pleasers during any concert, and especially at a festival, where only a fraction of the audience can be expected to be hardcore fans.

They tried making up for the prematureness of the setlist by unabashing appeals to the crowd, and though every band I saw during the festival made sure to comment on the beauty of the audience, no one did it more than Datarock. Couple that with a drummer who uncharacteristically left the drum kit to warm up the crowd even more, red smoke and huge red balloons that someone failed to mention to the band would probably underperform in the wind outdoors, Datarock pulled every trick out of their bags to please Øya.

Trick number 3: give the crowd your clothes

That makes it a bit more OK that they actually seemed to be performing with a prerecorded backing track for most of the concert, but still, that’s a bit 2004 Ashley Simpson, no? Datarock left us with Time of My Life from Dirty Dancing booming from the speakers, which they’ve been ending every concert with for years now and frontman Fredrik Saroa stripping off and throwing his tracksuit into the crowd.

Tricks are fun and all, but I’ve seen them all before and even though they have a new album out and one would think be ready to move on, Datarock has grown a bit stale. Don’t get me wrong, it was a party, but a Datarock show is no longer the time of your life.

Trick number 4: Balloons and red smoke

Jay Reatard crowd reaction. WTF?

The current face of punk rock is not one to make any compromises, and he continued the live show strategy of energy before anything else. Every song is played at about twice its recorded speed, and the usually catchy, very melodious and frankly awesome songs like Hammer I Miss You are drowned in speed and intensity. Jay spits, shouts the occasional song title, wrestles open bottles of water, takes sips and then throws them at the audience. Not into the audience. At the audience.

And at the end of these incredibly intense 30 minutes, when you would think bassist Stephen Pope is just about to run out of energy, Jay jumps off stage and forcefully drags a guy from the crowd and pulls him on stage, fits him with his Gibson Flying V and suddenly, they are four in the band.

Jay Reatard

Fortunately, Jay has prerecorded some stuff, because of all the struggling musicians at Øya, Jay has managed to pick the one guy out of the crowd who impressingly enough manages to look stupid wearing rock’s most bad ass guitar and who can’t play for the life of him. Then Stephen Pope falls over, Jay runs off stage, the guy’s ushered back into the crowd and Jay reappears on stage and begins to pack up his stuff while a few fans politely yells for See/Saw, not quite sure if Jay’ll get up an play again or jump into the crowd and beat them up for being so preposterous as to demand anything more from him.

As I walk away from the show, happy that I’ll be able to catch a few songs from Lily Allen because the set was so short, I am completely unsure wether I just witnessed something awesome or something absolute shit. I think both, if that’s possible. A 30 minute concert is of course a scam any day, but it’s more about not making any compromises and not giving a shit just being a punk retard. And I want more. So if you decide to go back to Norway to play another 30 minutes, Jay, I’ll be there. Scared and stoked.

Stephen Pope went all out and then collapsed

Previously mentioned Lars Vaular was the first installment, but yesterday was really the day when absolutely everything was about Bergen. Punks Fjorden Baby! Started off the show yesterday without managing to become very memorable. Then Ungdomskulen (junior high) took the stage and lied to the audience saying it was the guitarist’s birthday and otherwise presented themselves as pretty awesome, with stage garb that’s beyond what anyone else has worn so far (except for perhaps Florence and the Machine, who continued the trend started earlier this June when Madonna and Lady GaGa visited Oslo. Female popstars don’t wear pants). And finished off the concert with telling us to wear condoms and not drink and ride.

All of that out of the way, the day belonged completely to a perfect John Olav Nilsen. He’s the guy whose parents suggested he become a taxi driver since he after all was so talented, but then decided that it was either music or death and has since been pouring his heart, soul, mind and whatever else his small body may contain to process a life that has seen countless disappointments, including at one point being banned from every pub and club in his native Bergen.

He takes the stage with six other bandmates who had to learn playing instruments to form his band, but the learning process is now officially over. They are a tight band. And John Olav is the best frontman in the world right now.

-I just have to collect myself for a second, and then we’ll play you an awesome song, he said, and blessed us with their breakout song Diamanter og Kirsebær, a song about utterly fooling oneself into believing that the good times you are having are gonna last, which, in John Olav’s case, the never do. They only have songs from one album that has yet to be released, but for all intents and purposes, that was plenty today. And sorry, non-Norwegians, but John Olav sings in Norwegian. Still, I don’t think that should prevent anyone from appreciating the intense nerve and honesty of his music. John Olav Nilsen will save music and usher us into a new decade even more honest, sincere and heartfelt than we thought possible. Pictures will have to tell the rest of the tale, I’m off to see more concerts.

Bah. So wet!

I don’t really know them that well, but decided right there and then that I intend to become a fan. Suits me too, as I haven’t updated my hardcore punk horizon since Black Flag. My friend Andreas is a fan, and brazenly claims that The Bronx left every other band at Øya in the dust not knowing what hit them with magnificent efficiency.

Mockingly nice afternoon weather.

They got about 20 minutes of the good weather, before rain came down in torrents the likes of which we don’t see in Norway. We have the gulf stream and everything, which is supposed to stabilize things. Not so anymore. And then, to spite us, after about 20 or so minutes of The Bronx and The Rain, it all cleared up again, and the sun was yet again shining. Great! Now I’m soaked from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, and the weather gods are mocking me! Alas, this is festival.

Knut Schreiner, using four different guitars. He is, after all, a guitarist.

Though not as energetic as many other festival bands, they’re just so tight and on point, and when they let loose, on tracks like Mr. Wild Guitar, it doesn’t get much better, at least not in the instrumental genre. Especially since Knut is probably the finest guitarist in Norway, and ranks fairly high up there on a global scale as well. If you don’t know Kåre and the Cavemen, you might be familiar with Knut’s other band, Turbonegro, where he’s been delivering guitar solos that is far beyond what their deathpunk deserves for years.

The band broke up in the late 90’s and this was their first reunion concert, with no others scheduled. So kudos to the Øya people who got them to reform. And to Kåre and the rest of the band for good times all around. Hava Nagila!

I’t 5.30pm on Tuesday and I’m in the lobby of a movie theater, having beer and popcorn watching Lars Vaular, the hands down most gifted Norwegian rapper as of today performing a short and sweet set on a small stage set up just for this. His lyrics are Norwegian, but that didn’t stop the SXSW from inviting him to Austin to be on a panel and perform (video here) last year. The music video for his song Solbriller På (Wearing shades, kinda) is also a movie trailer, hence the performance.

The concert was the beginning of the Club Øya, the day before the festival starts, so not really the festival. It was, however sporting about 100 acts spread across 30 stages all over town. Needless to say it was impossible to catch everything. But we did our best and stopped by nine different clubs and a park (as I mentioned earlier, beer is pricey here, and one must pit stop in a park for some binge-related drinking in between shows).

My absolute favorite of the night, in addition to Lars, was Miss Harmonica who plays some super energetic electrobeats with a straight up great popsensibility that’s reminiscent of Gossip, but after seing them in New York where they got the audience of madly in love and troubled girls shouting “we are important! We are important” I must admit I got a bit put off. Not so with Miss Harmonica.

She left her heart on stage (as well as a plastic pear from her necklace) and though the majority of the audience didn’t get too dancy, some of us did when she invited the audience on stage for the last song. I like dancing on stage during concerts, and am beyond puzzled that more people don’t seem to feel the same way…

As I write this, I’m listening to her debut album, Champagne, Caviar and Me. This is weird. She organized her show with a drummer and a guitarist and a concoction of Korgs and other synths. The album, however, strips away the guitar and the drumkit, and is far more focused on the electro aspects of her sound, employing lots of toy instruments and other amiga-like sounds. Good call, Miss!

The Øya Festival is, on the contrary, far more , erh, festive… It’s located amidst ruins from the dark ages, which I have no idea how they manage to preserve with thousands of people running around and over them, splashing beer and God knows what all over them for four days each year.

Anyhow, not to dwell on the location for too long. The main point of this post is really to start warming everyone (including myself) up to this year’s festival, which includes acts like Jay Reatard, Bon Iver, Donkeyboy (currently ravaging Norwegian charts with what they call retropop or something. In any case, it’s very catchy) and I Was A King. The full program is available here: and since I’m having trouble recognizing every single name on it and because time is limited, I’d be very stoked to get some recommendations. Put yerself in my shoes, kinda.

And in the meantime, here is a video from the sickest party during last year’s festival. My friend Magnus was charged with babysitting Best Fwends and Death Set during their stay in Oslo, and naturally invited them to play a gig at his apartment. Plaster fell from the roof in the apartment downstairs as people went absurdly apeshit, until eventually the police showed up and shut it all down. Probably for the best as the floor was getting ready to cave in at any moment.

Best Fwends is Playing at Our House from Handheld Shows on Vimeo.

High five!

Mats