This was both my first time and Metaljunkbox’s maiden voyage to ArcTanGent. I’ve always watched (and rated) the lineups from afar (pun intended), but somehow never managed to sync up the time, or the friends, to actually make it happen. Experiencing it this year with a camera in hand definitely felt like a rite of passage. We rolled in on an almost scorching day, eager to get stuck into the riffs, odd time signatures and polyrhythms, but first, I had to get my bearings. That took a minute. Luckily, ATG isn’t some sprawling beast of a festival, and once you’re on site, the layout clicks fast. Before long, I had the stage map locked in and was fully prepared to have my head caved in by tone and my memory card filled with absolute chaos.
Kalandra
I was genuinely excited to see Kalandra again, and they lived up to every expectation I had going in. Their soundcheck alone was so pristine that, for a moment, I wasn’t entirely sure if the set had already begun and I should be scrambling to take photos. The only clue that it wasn’t quite time yet was their singer’s Katrine hoodi,e which hadn’t yet been removed, a small but weirdly grounding detail.
Kalandra may not be heavy in the “traditional” sense, but they carry a different kind of weight, one that settles deep in the chest and pulls at every emotion one might be feeling in the moment. Katrine Stenbekk’s voice has the kind of presence that can fill not just a tent, but the hearts of everyone in it. The way they moved the crowd was undeniable. Everywhere I looked (when I allowed myself a short break from their hypnotic performance), I could see people visibly overwhelmed, some with tears in their eyes, fully caught up in the atmosphere. I have no doubt this was the highlight of the day for many. There is something about their performance that is always equally intimate and expansive, allowing you to feel completely alone with your thoughts while also part of something larger. It’s the kind of set that drew the audience inward and outward at the same time, something perhaps akin to sonic group therapy, and honestly, one of the most deeply affecting moments of the festival.
Teeth of the Sea
I went into this with no idea what to expect, and that turned out to be the perfect mindset for the occasion. Things started slow and spacey, but unfolded as a vibrant, unpredictable performance that had the entire tent vibing, people dancing, jumping, and fully giving into the groove.
Difficult to pin down by design, their sound draws from a swirling mix of experimental, psych, and electronic elements, with the occasional industrial twinge thrown in just to keep one guessing. After the previous set’s emotionally heavy weight, this was the kind of reset needed, a full-bodied sonic cleanse that re-energised without demanding too much inner excavation. It was bold, in parts strange, and completely its own thing, and that’s exactly what made it so compelling.
Slift
Groovy and dark in equal measure, I sometimes feel like music fans are purposefully gatekeeping Slift. I do wonder if bands of this calibre know just how utterly magnificent they are. Their sound was dense and immersive, to my ears prog and psych at the core, but also pulling in drone, post rock, and whatever other cosmic forces they’d summoned along the way.
The visuals behind them looked like a strange mix of fingerprints and tree rings, which only heightened the sense of something ancient and unknowable. Is this man versus nature, or man dissolving into nature? Whatever the answer, the experience was absolutely crushing and mind-bending. I guess they don’t call it space rock for nothing. The French seem to be putting something in the wine lately, because some of my favourite albums in recent years have come from there, and Slift are somewhere at the top of that list. The crowd was totally hooked from start to finish, and I didn’t have a choice but to allow myself to get swept by the same weird and wonderful energy.
Wardruna
Seeing Norway’s Wardruna (here’s hoping this band needs no introduction) for the first time truly felt like stepping through a portal into a dimension where ancient forests whisper secrets and the midnight sun stretches time just enough for you to catch a breath. Being that close to the stage was utterly engulfing, with lush production wrapping around me like Nordic fog that refuses to let go. Their setup is very much crafted from the same stuff as the music, shifting lights and shadows meant to pull an audience deeper and deeper into their world.
With no passport or Viking helmet required, all I had to do to get transported was close my eyes and let myself be carried away. Einar’s vocals are a celebration of storytelling itself, precise and almost raw at times but with an emotional edge that could thaw the coldest of hearts. Wardruna breathe life into the Nordic past in a way that demands no prior knowledge, just your full attention. It was a profoundly immersive experience, and an incredible way to wrap up the first night. If this was the warm-up, then the rest of the festival was shaping up to be one heck of a ride.
