One of the first things you discover about Bergen is its abundance of vibrant personalities. Take Antonio Stasi, for instance. This Calabrian, who studied photography and architecture at Florence’s prestigious Università degli Studi di Firenze, arrived here a quarter of a century ago and never departed, running a photography store that only deals in analogue formats and vintage cameras. 'We were the last shop in the world selling actual film ten years ago,' he tells me, puffing animatedly on a cigarette. 'I’m not interested in digital.' Consequently, his shop – Classic Camera – has developed a cult following among both pros and hobbyists, some journeying from as far as Japan, and has been featured in multiple documentaries. During our chat, he gestures to his favourite cameras in the window, handles several curious tourists, and issues intermittent orders to an assistant sorting prints for an upcoming exhibition.
This is typical for Norway’s second city, a place that feels decidedly “un-Norwegian.” Scandinavian stoicism is in short supply; some say it resembles a slice of Italy that drifted into colder waters. The locals, who speak a unique dialect called “Bergensk”, have no qualms about enjoying their city and the good life. And who can blame them? Nestled among seven mountains, it’s picture-postcard gorgeous, filled with cobblestone lanes and charming side streets. You can easily spend hours wandering through antique shops and quirky independent boutiques. Quaint wooden houses are everywhere, especially in the historic harbourside district of Bryggen, where you can sit on a terrace and watch various boats dart across the icy waters.
Bergen has also nurtured many of Norway’s finest bands and artists and boasts a vibrant cultural scene, which likely explains the abundance of music stores, notably Musik-Magazin with several branches across the city. This also makes it the perfect host for Vill Vill Vest, the country’s premier showcase event featuring over 60 artists and a two-day conference with talks, seminars, and debates. Only in its second year, it has already earned a strong reputation; numerous high-profile acts tipped for big things in 2018 are present. Although our arrival is met with the disappointing news that Kommode – the new project from Kings Of Convenience’s Eirik Glambek Bøe – had to cancel, there is such a wealth of great music spread across ten venues that the toughest decisions, as always, are what to skip.
Unsurprisingly, Scandi pop is everywhere, and many artists follow a similar formula: breathy vocals over icy synths and crisp drum machine beats. Fanny Anderson’s upbeat electro-pop is catchy enough to ensure she won’t stay unsigned for long, though she’s somewhat overshadowed in the hype department by 16-year-old Halie, who, despite her youth, prowls the stage like a veteran. She possesses the voice and presence to become a breakout star, and the ecstatic reception for every song indicates she’s already making waves in her home country. But such glacial synth-pop is best taken in small doses; both sets are a bit one-paced and lose steam halfway through. This same issue plagues Luke Faas; despite a more R&B, soft soul flavour to his music, it falls flat where it should lift off and fails to ignite much passion.
This isn’t an issue for Natalie Sandtorv, who blends meandering jazz with a blistering psych-rock backing band adorned in masks and capes. It’s explosive yet not overindulgent, the music’s confrontational nature mirrored in the tight space of Landmark. Pom Poko are another group determined to push pop’s boundaries, dousing their music in all sorts of weird effects and time signatures. You might not think dark math-rock guitars, bright melodies, and a funk bassline could coexist harmoniously, but the massive queue forming half an hour before their set proves how well their joyful noise is received around here.
The heavier side is also well represented. While Norway may not share Finland’s obsession with death metal and doom-laden sonic destruction – let’s face it, few countries do – numerous bands do an excellent job of bringing the noise. The Garage is a dark, grimy basement dive bar with graffiti-covered walls, hosting much of this side of the festival. Spielbergs channel the heavy indie rock riffage of Japandroids and You Will Know Us By The Trail Of The Dead, but although their enthusiasm is undeniable, a lack of originality becomes apparent after a few songs. Cakewalk, a sort of supergroup (its members come from some of Norway’s most famous bands), fare much better, their drones and riffs vibrating with power and energy. Their borrowings from noise-rock, industrial, and Krautrock are evident, but they’re blended into a captivating cacophony that is entirely their own.
On Saturday, Execration live up to their reputation as the country’s premier metal band, tearing through their 30-minute set with manic urgency. They’ve been at it for ten years, and it shows; they are as assured as they are loud. More surprising are Dreamarcher, whose abrasive hardcore blasts and face-melting guitar slabs recall The Mars Volta and early Biffy Clyro. Their early set is a short, sharp jolt to the brain, and it’s hard to believe they’ve only been around for a little over a year. Alongside extensive touring, their debut album is out and work has already begun on the follow-up.
There’s plenty of experimental fare as well. Jimi Somewhere, described as sounding like a “lo-fi chillwave emo trap band”, and Intertwine, probably the only trumpet-led electro-pop artist around, both twist music in unique ways. Bergen’s own Building Instrument deliver an eclectic mix of skittering drums, sweet harmonies, and electronica, all sung in Norwegian. Hajk, a criminally underrated band responsible for one of 2017’s most delightful albums, also charm with dreamy indie-pop, glitchy electronica, and a funk-infused tropical undercurrent. One of the weekend’s highlights, it’s baffling they weren’t given a more prominent slot in a larger venue – a sentiment surely shared by those stuck outside in the queue.
But the stars of the entire weekend are Amber Clouds, who pack the tiny Victoria Café & Pub early on Thursday night. Drawing inspiration from The Smiths, The Cure, and the dreamy side of shoegaze, they are an absolute delight and sound wise beyond their years. ‘I Don’t Want This To End’, from last year’s self-titled EP, perfectly captures their breezy brilliance in just over three minutes. It’s hard not to think that if they hailed from Dalston, they’d already be gracing magazine covers and Ones To Watch lists. Given the rapturous reception they receive and the huge queue of people trying to get in, those things might not be far off.
For more details about Vill Vill Fest, including tickets for the 2018 edition, please visit their official website.
