The 10 Best Acts We Saw at Iceland Airwaves

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Once a year, artists and music lovers from around the globe descend on an island in the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean with a population of less than 400,000 and a land area smaller than the state of Kentucky. The sun sets before 5pm and the temperature hovers around a balmy 40°F. They all seems like improbable conditions for one of the world’s best festivals, but that’s what makes Iceland Airwaves utter magic.

Across six official venues—including the Art Museum, a grand theater known as Iðnó and the indoor flea market Kolaportið—and numerous other unofficial sites, acts from Iceland and beyond shared music ranging from politically-charged punk, to synth-laced art pop, to reggaeton. The 25th Iceland Airwaves began in earnest on November 7 this year, lasting through the wee hours of the morning on Saturday night. Thanks to Reykjavík’s compact size, I was never far from the next show, and the whole city essentially turned into one large, semi-outdoor party (depending on the weather).

That’s what María Rut Reynisdóttir, the Executive Director of Iceland Music, adores about Iceland Airwaves. “I just love the vibe of the city when the festival is taking place,” she told me. Iceland Music is an organization that aims to educate and empower Icelandic musicians, and Reynisdóttir appreciates that Airwaves gives alternative artists from their country a chance to be heard beyond their borders. “[Music] is in our DNA and just part of our culture,” Reynisdóttir said, and it was plain to see throughout my time in Reykjavík. I started to recognize Icelandic musicians who played in multiple bands over the three-day festival, or would show up as enthusiastic crowd members at each others’ gigs. The community’s overwhelming camaraderie was an utter joy to witness.

Elín Hall

Icelandic singer-songwriter and award-winning actor Elín Hall graced the Art Museum stage wearing a red velvet dress and a massive cross necklace, like our own pint-sized preacher sharing the gospel of Icelandic music. Hall previously released two alt-pop albums, 2020’s Með Öðrum Orðum and 2023’s heyrist í mér? (which translates to “can you hear me?”), but her set featured new music that falls closer to folk, rock and Americana. Hall’s talent was matched by her enthusiastic backing band, including her guitarist who was dressed like a modern day Fred from Scooby Doo, ascot and all. Set highlights include “Wolf Boy” and her triumphant closer, “America.”

Kaktus Einarsson

I had met Kaktus Einarsson, an Icelandic musician best known for his work in the group Fufanu, earlier on Friday before his performance, chatting in his cozy studio tucked away in the heart of Reykjavík. The space was a musician’s paradise, with instruments crammed into every possible corner, colorful tchotchkes filling up any other free surfaces and a kitchen upstairs for mid-recording munchies. His presence in the studio was understated and open as he told me and fellow journalists about his latest record, Lobster Coda, which features his mentor Damon Albarn on the final track and was largely inspired by his experience with functional neurological disorder. That Einarsson could not have been more different from the bombast of his on stage persona. Dressed in a matching track suit, Einarsson bounded on stage, all bravado as he raised his hands, demanding the audience’s attention (that was, after he gave each member of his band a quick cheek kiss). Of Monsters and Men’s Nanna even joined Einarsson on stage later in the set to sing the sway-worthy duet “Be This Way.” He was part lounge singer, part hype man as he crooned at the crowd over flanged guitar and his band’s funky, lush, toe-tapping grooves.

Lambrini Girls

If you take anything away from this article other than my love of Iceland Airwaves, then it should be this: Brighton duo Lambrini Girls are the next big thing that you need to know about. The hype is deserved, readers. Get on the train now with a can of cheap lager and a cigarette, or be left crying at the station. Punk rockers Phoebe Lunny (vocals/guitar) and Lilly Macieira (bass) kicked off their sweaty, uproarious, rage-filled set with their latest single “Big Dick Energy,” a sonic middle finger to sexist losers. Lunny and Macieira’s angular riffs and on stage chemistry whipped the crowd into a frenzy. At multiple points during the show, Lunny hopped off stage, urging the throngs to part like the Red Sea, and our very own rock ‘n’ roll Moses would lead “Free Palestine” chants or have us cheer on queer audience members. By the end of the set, she was crowd surfing, her red lipstick smeared all over her chin. The slightly vampiric look made sense—Lambrini Girls were out for blood.

Lúpína

The adjectives “otherworldly” and “ethereal” are definitely overused in music writing, but they’re utterly apt descriptors for Nína Solveig Andersen, aka lúpína, who marries Icelandic sounds and Scandi pop to craft music that transcends space and time. Her 2024 album is called MARGLYTTA, the Icelandic word for jellyfish, because of lúpína’s desire to be so emotionally honest on the record that she would be as transparent as those sea-dwelling invertebrates. For Iceland Airwaves, lúpína’s lithe, heavenly synth pop was perfectly matched with her venue: Fríkirkjan í Reykjavík, a Lutheran church on the edge of a serene lake. The patter of rain preceded lúpína’s performance, which was peppered with liquid-y, atmospheric sounds. Her gossamer voice was backed by a choral track on the opening song, the digital voices turning dissonant just before a beat bounced in, low-key yet propulsive. The entire show was a many-layered production; on the visual side, lúpína was flanked by umbrellas decorated to look like jellyfish, while aurally the church was filled with a gloriously cinematic alien soundscape. The future of Icelandic music has never looked stranger or brighter.

Magdalena Bay

Magdalena Bay mesmerized the Art Museum on Thursday night with their dreamy, fantastical pop. The Los Angeles-based duo played through their luminous new album Imaginal Disk from start to finish, and suffice it to say, that hour altered my brain chemistry. Every moment of the set was meticulously planned to match up with the visuals, which were set in a winged oval frame at the back of the stage. A pastel sunset, a spinning UFO or lip syncing characters traipsed on screen; meanwhile, the artistry was matched on stage as lead singer Mica Tenenbaum dancing around in silky, voluminous blue trousers, at one point donning a sunflower headdress (so she could “hang [her] head down, let the bees do their buzz” for “Vampire in the Corner”) and later a pair of angel wings. In short, if Magdalena Bay are coming to your town, don’t miss out on one of the best shows around.

Read our 2024 interview with Magdalena Bay here.

Monobloc

Maybe one of these days I’ll be sick of New Wave or indie sleaze pastiche, but today is not that day. New York City’s Monobloc packed out the charmingly beer-sticky floors of Gaukurinn on Thursday night. The five-piece were bathed in blue light for their silver-soft start, letting Timothy Waldron’s rich vocals take center stage. He channeled Julian Casblancas, sure, but the rest of the band—bassist Michael Silverglade, guitarists Ben Scofield and Nina Lüders and drummer Zack Pockrose—delivered Joy Division-esque urgency. This was classic drums-thumping-in-chest, guitars-burrowing-into-your-brain yearning. Monobloc served up stormy moments of swirling sound, but just as easily got the crowd dancing. Their sweetness was the cherry on top, with Lüders flashing a heart sign at the crowd after getting us to start clapping. Considering that Monobloc have only been a band for a year and already made it to Iceland Airwaves, they’re definitely a group to keep your eye on.

Ravyn Lenae

Chicago singer Ravyn Lenae’s sugary, effervescent R&B immediately reminded me of Carly Rae Jepsen’s Disney princess pop tendencies. Before she come on stage, her drummer and guitarist were jamming together seamlessly, but the moment Lenae stepped out, it was like a beam of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Her helium-high vocals and graceful dancing completed the angelic picture, as did her easy connection with the crowd. “1 of 1,” off her new album Bird’s Eye (released in August of this year via Atlantic), was a definite standout, as was the dance-worthy number “Love Me Not.” Once you’ve seen her perform, it’s obvious why she’s opened for the likes of SZA and Noname—Lenae is a star, and she’s just waiting for the rest of us to take notice.

Sunna Margrét

Icelandic art pop purveyor Sunna Margrét began her set with “Come With Me,” a sultry song off her debut album Finger on Tongue, which was released in March. It was a bold start to the performance, juxtaposing Margrét’s crystalline vocals with a heavy, clanging beat. “Come With Me” was both sexually empowering—Margrét implored, “Touch me there,”—and unsettling as glitching, robotic synths underscored the track. She followed it up with “Chocolate,” a silky electronic number built around whispered vocals and muted synth and drums. Margrét began the next song—“Amma,” a 2018 single dedicated to her grandmother—a capella, then looped her voice to turn the organic sounds into something eerie. I’ll not soon forget Margrét’s kaleidoscopic, unearthly show.

UCHE YARA

I’m still kicking myself for not seeing the entirety of Berlin-based artist UCHE YARA’s set. I came in part way through her rollicking, sunny track “I <3 Rome” and was immediately won over—and even more so when she started flexing her bicep in time to the music. Her hypnotic, ebullient indie pop wove in elements of psych rock without committing to any one genre. UCHE YARA and her band radiated an irresistible energy, the feeling that maybe if we dance a little longer, things will be okay. Upbeat and playful, this was music I could imagine putting a smile on my face even on the darkest day—and considering our recent election, I think we could all use some UCHE YARA in our lives.

Villano Antillano

“I’m just a bad bitch making hot music,” Puerto Rican rapper Villano Antillano declared partway through her set. I needed that energy; at only 8:30pm, I was already dog-tired after a day crammed with sightseeing. I needed something next level to keep me from falling asleep where I stood, and boy did Antillano deliver. She sauntered on stage after a warm-up set from her DJ, commanding the Art Museum with laidback confidence. Antillano filled the space with reggaeton beats, unrepentant airhorns and lightning-fast bars. “Muñeca” and “¡Hello Kitty!” were definite highlights, compelling even the shiest audience members to shimmy. After witnessing her devil-may-care attitude and motormouth rapping, you’d be hard pressed not to embrace your own inner bad bitch.

Clare Martin is a cemetery enthusiast and Paste’s associate music editor. Go harass her on Twitter @theclaremartin.