We arrived in Reykjavik, Iceland anticipating the launch of The Secret Solstice Midnight Sun Music Festival, facing the mad prospect of 72 hours of consistent sunlight in a new and unusual land.
Iceland is a beautiful country boasting an enchanting landscape featuring volcanos, geysers, glacier ice caps, lava fields and geothermal rock pools. It is one of the most peaceful and tranquil nations on Earth with low crime rates and a real sense of equality between it’s inhabitants, with virtually no social difference between the lower and upper classes.
The small city of Reykjavik is the furthest most northern capital on the planet and is a strange mix of mismatched architecture; small grey Scandinavian houses made of corrugated iron, often covered in impressive street art, sit between minimal Art Deco blocks. The main street is lined with small boutique shops, bars and cafés frequented by a young population of ridiculously trendy, fashion conscious hipsters; excuse the generalisation but there really is no other word to describe Iceland’s youth with the array of bespoke fashion, beards and haircuts on display being nothing short of phenomenal.
The Secret Solstice line up combined with the concept of 3 days of sunlight was enough to rival any major festival throughout Europe, however how would a country that had a prohibition on beer in affect until 1989 deal with the prospect of a music festival and all the hedonistic, drunken debauchary that usually goes hand in hand with it?
What happens when you bring a rave to a country that effectively has no rave culture?
The country has one of the lowest crime rates in the world and this extends to drug use. With a 2012 UNODC report suggesting ecstasy use among 15-64-year olds was around 0.5%, with cocaine at 0.9% of the tiny 312,000 population; however with the mindset that not everyone’s idea of a good time at a festival includes doing a Ketamine-induced backstroke through the mud, we headed down to the site on Friday afternoon ready for some good, clean fun.
On first impressions the festival site was quiet, being half-full at best with one of the most chilled out vibes I have ever witnessed at a music event. It felt safe. There were no early casualties lined up at the medical tent, no one had lost their mates and everyone just seemed happy to wander around, taking in whatever music they came across – rather than catching any one particular artist. It had a folk-music festival vibe, with a house and techno heavy line up and as a veteran raver, it made a refreshing change not to be completely surrounded by burnt-out degenerates, gurning their faces off, although it still all somehow managed to feel slightly surreal. As the overcast, grey skies drizzled throughout the afternoon, most of the action was to be found in the ‘Askur’ dance tent with British house DJ’s Lex Luca and Artwork delivering decent party vibes.
Across site on the ‘Valhalla’ main stage, French singer/songwriter Woodkid produced a rousing set with an impressive backing band that included a regimental percussion ensemble and brass section that went down a storm with the Icelandic crowd.
Eats Everything was up next and went back to back with Artwork; filling in for Skream who had dropped out last minute. It wasn’t long before headliners Disclosure joined them on stage with the performance descending into an impromptu DJ jam session between the three acts. They were more than happy to provide a bit of entertainment to the dwindling crowd, laughing and joking down the mic and doing their best to keep the spirits high and the party going with Disclosure’s hit singles typically receiving the biggest crowd reaction .
By this time the indoor dance arena, ‘Hel’ had opened it’s gates, so we made our way across the site and into the much welcomed darkness. Manchester institution The Warehouse Project had converted an ice rink on-site into a venue to rival any major dance event in the world, with exceptional lighting and powerful Funktion-One sound-system. Crosstown Rebels had taken over the line-up with Detroit techno legend Carl Craig and label founder Damian Lazarus bringing proceedings to a close in quintessential, pounding fashion, although from a seasoned clubber’s point of view the room wasn’t your typical techno crowd. Wether it was the lack of available party prescriptions or the fact that maybe it was the first time many of the crowd had witnessed techno at it’s finest, I was unsure. However we headed back to our hostel under the eerie, grey 4am sky, hoping the crowd and the weather would lighten up a bit on Saturday.
Iceland’s drinking culture, heavily priced and controlled by the State has basically dictated that Saturday is their day to get hammered. Bars in Reykjavik close their doors at 1am Mon-Fri, however stay open til 5am on a Saturday night providing Icelanders a short window every week to let their hair down, ply their necks with booze and party. As soon as we entered the site the change in atmosphere was incredible. There were far more in attendance and It was evidently clear Saturday was Iceland’s day to let loose. We didn’t spend long questioning the reasoning or logistics behind it all, as we were more than happy to immediately get involved.
Main stage headliners, Massive Attack were awesome with earth shuddering baselines, haunting melodies and stunning visuals. You could feel the crowd slowly begin to sway to life as the band went through their impressive back catalogue and by the time they played their timeless classic, Unfinished Symphony, the Icelanders were really starting to get into the party mode as we caught our first glimpse of the impressive and baffling, arctic midnight sun.
‘Hel’ arena had massively improved on Saturday night with Jackmaster, Rob Da Bank and LA tech-house ensemble Droog warming things up nicely and by the time headliner Jamie Jones took to the DJ box, most of the festival attendees had found their way inside the booming arena for a boogie. It still lacked that sweaty, warehouse, nut-off vibe, however it was a shitload of fun nonetheless.
Sunday rolled round and you could tell before you entered the festival site it would again be a far more chilled out affair. This time however, we were ready to embrace it. The sun was out and everyone was enjoying soaking it in over a beer, standing and sitting around in friendly, chatty groups.
Hip-hop appeared to be the young Icelanders music of choice. We managed to catch a few sets from Icelandic rap artists across the weekend with Gísli Pálmi the best of the lot. He swaggered around the stage like a bad-man delivering highly entertaining verses in Icelandic with the odd “bitch” and “motherfucker” thrown in for good measure. We could barely understand a word of it but it was highly enjoyable and extremely well received by one of the largest crowds of the weekend.
LA rapper Schoolboy Q closed the ‘Valhalla’ main stage and was awarded a huge reception. His performance was impressive and as a massive fan of 90’s rap and hip-hop it was refreshing to hear some genuine gangster rap in this age of sellout, half-hearted rap come R&B. It was a delight to hear Q describe how he “spreads a bitches legs like mayonnaise” and how his “grandmother showed him his first strap” (a gun for those not down with the gangsta rap lingo) all in the name of entertainment and amusingly, the predominantly white middle class, Icelandic crowd, lapped it up adoringly. This was also the first time we fully got to appreciate the beautiful midnight sun in it’s full disorientating glory.
‘Hel’ arena on Sunday night saw Madtech records take over the bill with UK dancefloor favourites Josh Butler and Waze & Odyssey getting the ball rolling, before New York underground legend, Kerri Chandler provided a master class in DJ, musicianship and entertainment, laying down live key solos over his infectious tech house grooves, masterfully infused with funk, soul and disco. By this point the full festival had moved inside the arena and you got the feeling that although the majority of the crowd were probably unsure of what they were aparty to, they sensed it was something special and were more than happy to ride the wave, grooving away to Kerri drop banger upon banger, beautifully bringing the festival to a close.
As we walked back to town under the stunning, red 1am sky we reflected back over the weekend’s events. Maybe the Icelanders haven’t embraced rave culture as far as us party-loving Brits but was that really such a bad thing? They are certainly a race who have learned to have a good time without copious amounts of drugs and alcohol and more power to them for it. There certainly is something to be said for getting yourself home after a festival not having to nurse a monumental comedown, after spending three days munching pills and sniffing gear until your eyes possess a vacant glaze and your drooling over yourself like a catatonic mental patient. It’s a good feeling remembering most of the acts you paid good money to see and not having lost either;
a) your phone
b) your wallet
c) your keys
d) all of the above
I would recommend Secret Solstice Midnight Sun Festival purely on the basis of it’s wonderful weirdness. It is the perfect event for anyone looking for a party atmosphere without the consequences of having to deal with an army of twatted ravers. I would however advise anyone attending in future to do themselves a favour and stock up on alcohol at the airport duty free. You know… Just incase.
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