Pitchfork

Photos by Eirik Lande; text by Stephen M. Deusner

Instead of sprawling out in all directions, the Øya festival space, confined to Medieval Park, is actually pretty accessible. It's a short walk instead of a long hike from one stage to another. Lining the byways are booths selling recycled cardboard chairs, organic foods, locally grown fruits and vegetables, comics, and, of course, beer. In addition to donating the couches along the shore, Ikea (one of Øya's sponsors) has set up a booth on the lake, decorated like a store installation but used as a lounge.

Throughout the day there are threats of thunderstorms, but during the early afternoon festivalgoers watch the dark clouds pass first to the south and later to the north of the grounds, leaving mostly sunny skies directly above. The weather holds until 7:45 pm, when it pours, sending most of the 14,000-strong crowd under trees and into booths. Fortunately, the downpour only lasts about half an hour, and by 8:30 everything seems completely dry again.

Boredoms

Even if you aren't a fan of the Boredoms' records, seeing them live-- especially against the backdrop of threatening clouds-- would give you insight into their appeal. Playing the midsize Sjøsiden stage early in the day, they arranged their instruments-- mainly three drum sets-- in a circle to direct all their energy toward one another, with various members occasionally addressing the audience in a series of whoops and howls. A better arrangement, albeit a highly untenable one, would have been to set up their equipment in the center of the audience rather than onstage, inviting the crowd to look over their shoulders and absorb the brunt of their force. As it was, the discipline of their frantically tribal rhythms was impressive, but somewhat distant. Perhaps it was the early time slot, which had them playing to a smaller crowd still acclimating themselves to the site.

Ida Maria
Ida Maria has not released any music officially, yet the crowd for her afternoon set was large and loyal, calling out song titles (mostly "Oh My God", which became her closer) and singing the words to "I Like You Better When You're Naked". In a short time, the Norwegian singer-songwriter has won two major radio and live competitions and has developed a reputation for her rambunctious sets. Even playing the smaller Vika stage, she gets one of the best crowd responses of the day. From the moment she practically skips onto the stage wearing a black babydoll dress and checked black hose, it's easy to see why. Ida Maria works hard on stage, spinning around with her guitar, exhorting the audience almost individually, dousing herself with a water bottle, even climbing high in the scaffolding to sing one song (which, remarkably, didn't restrict her movements).

The music's good, too: Her band churns out roughed-up pop punk and she sings in a strong voice that alternately suggests Björk, Janis Joplin, and Katrina & the Waves. On one song, she turns the statement "We are all going to hell" into a dark hook and practically demands the crowd to sing along, which they readily do. Her performance-- one of the best of the day—built to an intense close, transcending the somewhat impersonal festival space.

Bonde do Role

Even more rain: Amy Winehouse, in a London hospital for "exhaustion," has canceled her appearance. Most of the guests don't seem to mind, and some even applaud when the news is announced. Playing the Vika stage, Bonde do Role make the obvious joke: "They tried to make me go to Norway," Pedro D'eyrot sings, "but I said, ‘No no no'." The crowd goes wild.

The Brazilian group makes liberal use of devil horns, flashing them like air quotes. Most everything else likewise seems almost too ironic, especially the foundational samples of "The Final Countdown", Grease, AC/DC, and Tone Loc. But they do have a cheerleader effect, pumping up the crowd not through words, but through the recontextualizing of common cultural touchstones, in this case the cheesy music of the 1980s. That in itself is no great feat, but the three members of Bonde do Role attack the job with a single-mindedness that allows for nothing that might disrupt their party. In green shorts and a red-plaid hoodie (the mismatch is intentional), Marina Ribatski never exhausts her repertoire of post-flygirl moves; in the group she's like Fergie, but with, you know, sex appeal. Pedro makes cartoonish come-ons, and Rodrigo Gorky occasionally emerges from behind the turntables to take a few verses in his hoarse delivery. Their show is antic-based-- goofing off as entertainment-- but it's hard to say they don't succeed, at least judging by the crowd's response, which invites one of the day's few encores.

Nine Inch Nails

Photo by Ray Suzuki

The downside to the Amy Winehouse cancellation is that now I don't have much excuse not to see Nine Inch Nails. I'm not entirely disinterested, but after a day of high-energy performances with low-key effects, I'm not in the mood for a Big Rock Show.

And that's pretty much what the band delivers: A spectacle of expensive backdrops, copious smoke-machine smoke, and band members throwing their mic stands around. The show is all flash and thunder, drawing mainly from their surprisingly durable Year Zero and occasionally digging deeper into Reznor's catalog for crowd-pleasers like Closer" and "Hurt".

Musically, either industrial sounds have been so absorbed into the mainstream that the thumping bassline and strategic static don't hold the same sway anymore, or Nine Inch Nails have become a rock band, which gives "Head Like a Hole"'s a new urgency. It's the set's strongest moment and the best reminder of why Reznor has managed to remain relevant after nearly 20 years. Still, the artist most well known for painfully baring his soul through music delivers the most impersonal performance of the day.

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