Osheaga Music and Arts Festival finally returned to Montréal for its 15th-anniversary edition after a forced 3-year break. Between July 29th and 31st, Montréal’s île Sainte-Hélène (Parc Jean-Drapeau) was the centre for music fans from the nearby areas and abroad; a total of 120,000 attendees made their way to the festival over the 3-day weekend.

The area near the festival grounds becomes so busy the city has to bring in extra police forces to manage the metro traffic. As the music fans spill out of the train stations at Parc Jean-Drapeau the sounds of Osheaga immediately grab their attention, funnelling the crowds into different entrances all of which were getting progressively busier leading up to Sunday.

A roundup of one hundred artists played over the weekend, needless to say, it would be impossible to see them all but given the different genre representations, the crowd was always divided into fluid groups: those mostly staying at Coca Cola stage for electronic music, indie band fans at the SiriusXM stage tucked away on the side, top40 headliners were split in the main area between two stages, and the close follow up performers were on the other side of the park. A total of 6 stages is a lot of ground to cover so between them, and the bathroom lines or drink quests, we all got our steps in for the week. 

Music is what people come here for but there is a lot to do between the sets. Various artists were working on installations throughout the weekend creating living backdrops for all those insta shots. Food stations (from niche trucks to hot dog stands) were located within close proximity to every stage, some were full-on restaurants. Hammocks and mixed resting areas were filling in the gaps while elevated VIP areas were located near the main stage, looking over from the side and in some instances, allowing concertgoers to go as close to the stage as the photo pit.

J Shantz Art in front of his mural

Sunday crowd relaxing to Tove Lo

People napped on the crisp green grass while waiting for their favourite artist to start, sipped on Apparel Spritz, played games in various branded activation booths, made TikToks, and gathered in groups around moving minibars (1-2 people passing through the crowds with coolers and premixed cocktails). Every day I would still find something new – a new bar, a new area, a secret bathroom. Parc Jean-Drapeau turns into an Osheaga city for 3-days and once you get past the sheer size of it, it becomes a home. 

This year’s performer lineup brought together a wide range of artists across genres and from around the globe. Crowds gathered to see Kygo (and friends) and hear party anthems like “Stole The Show,” “Freedom,” and “Forever Yours” Avicii tribute with a dash of “Satisfaction” by Benny Benassi. Elevated to the centre of the stage on a platform Kygo was easy to spot from anywhere on this side of the park, he danced, talked to the fans, and was generally a really fun set to see, despite the rather quiet sound delivery.

Kygo, image by Tom Snow, Osheaga

French electronic music duo Polo & Pan performed on the nearby stage and came with their latest tour set up, disco ball and vocal performances by Victoria Lafaurie included. But most electronic music fans stayed put at the Coca-Cola stage, tucked in between two main areas and away from the main crossing path. During the day we got to hear Chicago’s John Summit,  playing his mix of feel-good dance tracks and classic house music tunes, and the Italian songwriting/DJ duo Giolí & Assia who put all their musical skills on display with tracks like “I’ll Be Fine,” “Fire Hell and Holy Water,” and their edit of the “Creep” (the duo have also just released a new single “Playing Chess”). 

Giolí & Assia, image by Benoit Rousseau, Osheaga

Malaa, image by Benoit Rousseau, Osheaga

In the early twilight hours, the party picked up with French electronic DJ/producer Malaa. Geared up in his usual black balaclava Malaa immediately got dark and deep with tracks like “How It Is” but pivoted his set to suit the sunny summer vibes matching the bouncing pool noodles with his cover of Moby’s “Natural Blues”.  Sébastien Léger’s Modular Live set was certainly one to remember. For 90 straight minutes, Léger played banger after banger in the peal afternoon sun. AURORA’s “Running With The Wolves” was an anthemic song to hear in this setting and a perfect bridge to take us into the evening.

Sébastien Léger, image by Benoit Rousseau, Osheaga

Sunday standout electronic performance was by the British-born Norwegian DJ Alan Walker. This was by far the busiest stage all weekend with bodies packed in shoulder to shoulder at the edges of the stage corridors. Dressed in a yellow hoodie and his signature black facemask Walker owned the stage like the pro that he is, commanding the audience’s participation throughout the set. Fans got to hear a range of tracks of his latest release Walkerverse, Pt. I and some juicy remixes and older songs like Eiffel 65’s “Blue (Da Ba Dee)”. Having chatted with Alan just an hour before his set it was amazing to see his personality animate on stage. Stay tuned for the interview.

Alan Walker, image by Benoit Rousseau, Osheaga

For the second year in a row Glass Animals walked out on the Osheaga to some misfortune: last time the band got rained out and today they were faced with some technical difficulties. Dave Bayley did his best to entertain the audience but a small break was necessary to course correct the stage. Soon enough Glass Animals came out for take two and proceeded to own the main stage much like one of their odd music videos. We all joined the band in their universe for a short time and were taken on a journey, hand-held by Dave Bayley who really blossoms in the spotlight. Naturally, Dreamland was the main focus of this set but we did get to hear “Gooey” (2014) and as one of the long-term Glass Animals fans I was here for every bit of it.

Glass Animals, image by Pat Beaudry, Osheaga

Tove Lo, image by Pat Beaudry, Osheaga

Pop queen Charli XCX, joined by two dancers, had a very engaging and fairly complex set, it was kind of hard to tear your eyes away from the world of Charli XCX. Tove Lo took the torch the following day, quite early in the afternoon. Her set time certainly caused some traffic around the metro stations but the entry lineups were worth the wait. Tove Lo, dressed in leather chaps and embellished bikini set, was constantly dancing and teasing the crowd, causing roars of applause. Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ return tour was also a memorable one. The songs themselves are quite catchy but what stole the show is Karen O’s outfit (costume?) which with its many thrills and layers of complexity kept surprising us all.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs, image by Pat Beaudry, Osheaga

Burna Boy, image by Pat Beaudry, Osheaga

And then there was Burna Boy. It certainly felt like maybe Montréal is not his biggest fanbase but a good few of us fanned out to Damini Ebunoluwa Ogulu like it was a Christmas morning when “Last Last” came on. Suited up in bright orange pants Burna Boy danced around the stage in front of a burning fire projection and other fast-moving visuals. Dancehall and Afrobeat is a heavily underrepresented genre at Osheaga so this was definitely a treat and hopefully a path to better representation next year.

The rap and hip hop lineup highlights featured the legendary likes of Future who came with his own t-shirt gun, Big Sean who managed to rise above his sound issues with tightly dialled-in vocals, Sampa The Great with a fantastic live band, and French rapper Laylow who brought his own thunder to the Osheaga stage.

Houston music trio Khruangbin played the main stage and their sound certainly carried well through this space. The band took us on a musical adventure back in time to when music festivals and psychedelics were joining hands as one in America’s flower fields. There was no chit-chat or commentary, just song after song fluidly mixing as the band members vibed with each with completely unmoved facial expressions.

Khruangbin, image by Pat Beaudry, Osheaga

While there were quite a few options for the weekend close out I followed some friends to see Bristol’s Idles, a five-piece rock band that had a much smaller but a very, very dedicated audience. Vocalist Joe Talbot, who came out kind of looking like a small town preacher, is a force to reckon with. Talbot spent his time sharing his various opinions, shutting down drunkens in the crowd making absurd demands of him, and just generally kicking ass. The band was not far behind – the entire five-piece was very engaged, jamming, crowd surfing, and dripping pure musical energy sweat. Meanwhile, people were blissfully spinning away on a carousel at the back, enjoying the Montréal skyline.

Idles, image by Tim Snow, Osheaga

Much like the two days prior people flooded out of the festival grounds into the metro station. This train ride was a flow of controlled chaos with buskers playing Beatles’ “Come Together” in the halls, drunk and tiered people singing along. It’s a cheery time for anyone who is not trying to get home from work. 

When “reflecting on the weekend festival representative Nick Farkas shared: “It is hard to describe the feeling we had when the gates opened – there has been so much planning to make this an unforgettable 15th anniversary, and when we saw the joy of all these people returning to their favourite festival, it reminded me of exactly why we do this. It is just so great to be back, but most of all to be back, TOGETHER!” and it was certainly nice to be there to witness this comeback.

Idles, image by Tim Snow, Osheaga

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Echoing between the bracelets of the Lightning in a Bottle (LIB) commonwealth. It’s been a rough two years for us all and in turn, the cathartic release from LIB festival is one to cherish for years on end. The mornings were tranquil, the nights were spiritual; rhythmic stomping assembled dust storms across Buena Vista Lake. There are no laws, but everyone is chill. For five days, Bass is God.

Which is a bit misleading. Yoga lessons were soft and ambient, near-silent if not for the mentor’s melodic instructions. Further down the way stood the Grand Antique, a portal resembling an old saloon town wherein Smooth Hound Smith crooned into the soft evening glow. In limbo between each stage is a probability – some totems for sale, a crew of snazzy fits, perhaps a few steampunk dancers professing atop an ice cream truck. Look hard enough and find the drunk sloth grooving with vague rhythm under a quaint unassuming marquee: 

“THE BUTTHOLE CHAKRA WORKSHOP HAS BEEN CANCELED”

G Jones is an earthquake. His monochrome B2B set with Eprom was relentless, a titanic adventure that graced the crowd their latest collab effort “Acid Disk 2”. The late SOPHIE made a soft appearance through their remixes, which was particularly compassionate. It felt warm to have her presence if only for a moment. Glass Animals were just a stone’s throw away over at Lightning stage, a completely different vibe for a just as passionate crowd. They set a precedent on Friday that upcoming headliners would have to claw to come close to.

But Kaytranada was freshly sharpened. “10%” hits different in a crowd of thousands bouncing the inquisitive chorus across themselves. He opened the set with finger drumming and sliced chops before a smooth flip into the radio bumps. Successively, Big Wild relied perhaps too much on the radio hits – to the detriment of none. Having the bar located directly at the sonic apex of the Lightning stage is a strategy for the books.

Thunder stage was completely under the service of Big Freedia and no one was the same. Her accomplices twerked through space and time and dead-dropped into the stage like meteors ad nauseum. We crawled out in shambles. Exhausted, I turned to a friend and point out an apparent schedule error. Some act named “Burning Desire” holds a headline spot, for just ten minutes? Before Purity Ring? Yeah, alright. When suddenly:

Ignited swords and daggers dance across the stage. Troupe leader smirks, with her own fiery armaments, directing acrobats like a puppet-master committing arson by proxy. The fire-dancers clashed their weapons together and sparks fly; the crowd howls, hypnotized. You could feel the flame from the outskirts of the front row. Daggers split in five directions and the dancers spin and pose with the entire stage ablaze. Ten minutes felt like nothing, I ate my words.

Purity Ring’s intricate stage setup proved to be turbulent with the quick turnaround between acts, but when the ball was rolling it slammed. Megan is a seraph, decked in a gorgeous flowing outfit that evolved with the wind. Behind her is a throne of smoke and lights where Corin can comfortably play his midi ornaments. In true synthpop fashion, her delicate vocals illustrated cryptic images. Their live rendition of “Lofticries” was a smooth lull in a night full of stimulus:

“Let it seep through your sockets and ears
Into your precious ruptured skull
Let it seep, keep you from us
Patiently heal you”

Nestled between Grand Antique and the north side of the lake sits The Stacks, a bass hive for smaller electronic artists to flex their tech. I’d heard of Templo years ago through the vines but to catch his breakbeat abrasions live was something else entirely. The entire stage was drenched in 100hz, a low-frequency flood much to the delight of the community. Folks were dancing in makeshift towers that loomed into the sky. Blessed vibes in all directions. 

SAKA is another indie artist to put on the fridge. Unreal halftime and riddim artillery forged a symbiotic relationship with the crowd. The harder they went, the heavier he sent it. Later that night at Woogie stage, his track “Shaolin” would be deployed by Four Tet and desiccate the iridescent stage into pieces. The resulting interaction is so genuine it’ll melt your heart.

The lake was pristine during sunlight hours. Those who crashed out on scuttled floaties the night prior took to the sea to refresh, alive with the sound of vague bass from over yonder. It was a safe haven for those receding the wind and dust from the campsites. Meeting people has never been so easy, the wavelength that people were tuned into was warm and welcoming. As it should be. We were implored to interact and meet, ask for help, directions, and hugs.

This year that sneaky lightning was finally captured in that gosh dang bottle. We talked to a doctor/nurse duo who commented that this event was their light at the end of the tunnel. What a light it was.

In no uncertain terms, it was a celebration of humanity. A paracosm in which experience is paramount. The Do Lab went above and beyond to ensure a safe experience for all. The paths and locales were handicap accessible. Medic tents paired with Dancesafe ambassadors were emended and intermittent. An ambulance even responded to Megan James’ inquiries, as she briefly halted her performance to ensure the crowd was safe. I can’t imagine a better run festival, one to channel out our hearts from the cages locked from a uniquely arduous two years.

It’s about time.

*Note: on Thursday evening it was disclosed that two medical incidents resulted in fatality over the weekend. Festival organizers are currently working with county officials and the families involved. Our hearts go out to their loved ones affected by this tragedy. 

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Being the very first musician at a major festival is a proposition akin to being the first astronaut to try out the new spaceship design. It’s an honor, but also a test of fortitude. Luckily Gabriel Garzon-Montano has the right stuff, and the small but lively crowd at his stage is as-of-yet ignorant to the trials Lollapalooza can wreak on the human body and spirit at then end of a long day. Although Lollapalooza, like any festival, is a celebration of art, culture, and music, it’s predicated on cramming a zillion people into a small, loud space, with bugs, during the hottest month of the year. Normally this is a recipe for public insurrection, but the root of the festival, any festival, is the triumph of good vibes over nature, and Lollapalooza is no exception.

During Glass Animals, for instance, the crowd appears more like organs in some massive super being than individuals. Something about the heat and melodic tunes cause a herd mentality that keeps everybody sedately swaying, always keeping a respectable distance from one another. The rules of the pit are enforced like a code of honor: nobody likes touching the slimy skin of a sweaty neighbor, so no sweaty neighbors thrust themselves on to anybody. Another interesting thing is that although Glass Animal’s audience is composed of teens and early-twenties types, there are almost no cell phones held above people’s heads. It’s as if a hive-mind consensus was psychically reached, wherein all parties would watch the show and wiggle around pleasantly without digital interference. There is one free radical in the group, a shirtless teenager charging through the ranks yelling nonsense. He stops at a stranger, grabs him by the shoulders, and raises his voice so as to disturb everybody nearby. He is not part of the hive. He has to be eliminated. The crowd works as one to push him off to the periphery and he’s never heard from again.

Broods is from a very hot country – New Zealand – so they accept the daily highs of a Chicago heat wave in rock-star form: belting every lyric, punctuating each drum beat with a stomp, moving around the stage like cooks in a kitchen – deftly and with utilitarian grace. When a performer is on-point with the precision of a well-lubed spindle in a jet turbine, it’s easy to lose oneself in the ambiance. Even for those who have no idea who or what they’re watching, the experience of being around others who are so enthralled and moving with passion forces onlookers to become participants. Like an image from some mythical druid legend, the audience dances like worshippers to the chants of a high priestess. Each person feeding and growing off the energy of the others, and Broods at the head, consuming it all. In a less pregnancy and STD aware culture, the Broods show could have dissolved into the most debaucherous bacchanal of all time. Instead, when the show ends, everybody looks around flushed and slightly embarrassed. The trance is broken and the audience scurries away like so many mice fleeing from the light of an opened door.

Whatever god watches over Lollapalooza, her symbol is the dragonfly. They feed on the insects that feed on humans, mosquitoes and flies, and as the human mass of the festival grows denser, the insect mass overhead follows in kind. While Alt-J gently erupts on stage, the audience moves zombie-like, closer, closing in until every last possible inch of space is taken up by pressing flesh, gyrating back and forth with the music. Then, as the final song dwindles off into the air, the crowd surges, rushing the stage. Cooler heads do their best to resist the stampede, but to do so is like swimming against the Colorado River. Nonetheless a few characters manage to escape, only to be consumed again by the giant amoeba of Paul McCartney fans stretching from the main stage back through half the city.

While Beatles songs coo away on one end of Grant Park, a sinister force takes over the other. Enshrouded in darkness, wearing a skull mask with glowing eyes, and standing inside a transparent cube, Flying Lotus announces to the audience, “You’re Dead” with the nonchalance of somebody saying, “Hello.” His set went on to transcend reality, time, and consciousness. The crowd could have been forty people strong; it could have been four thousand. Nothing exists during the Flying Lotus show except what he chooses to project onto his cube. Through that geometric screen the audience is treated to scenes from the peaks of Heaven to the trenches of Hell. There are no dragonflies overhead; we are beyond their domain.

And as the clock strikes ten, and the performers end their shows in time with the noise ordinances set in place by the City of Chicago, the International Space Station makes a scheduled low pass. Lit by the full moon, it’s the brightest moving object in the sky. On this Friday night two of humanity’s greatest collaborative accomplishments wink at each other.

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The crowd matched the venue pretty well: everyone dressed über casually in plaid and layers of knit sweaters topped with messy high-buns, beards, and a variety of hipster glasses frames. The Tavern itself is just as layered, with everything you can think of plastered on the walls behind the bar – layers upon layers of random photography, beer bottles, and foreign currency making up the wallpaper.

Toronto local Petra Glynt was the opening act, sharing her explosive music that borders on performance art. It was evident from listening to Petra’s set that the Horseshoe Tavern wasn’t so bass-friendly; at times, you couldn’t understand Petra’s lyrics and all you could hear was the vibration of bass, with a layer of her drone-like chanting beneath. Petra’s sweaty, glittery set was over quickly, and, surprisingly, the performances seemed to be right on schedule. Glass Animals walked on stage at precisely 11:30, to a semi-full Tavern.

The four young Englishman from Oxford were dressed in plain shirts and jeans, and looked barely 18. Singer Dave Bayley started off the night jumping right into “Black Mambo,” one of the more recognizable tracks on their recently released EP, Zaba. Dave’s airy vocals sounded exactly as heard on their album, he is a natural singer with a certain kind of ease on stage, even his grandiose arm flailing looked natural.

By the time their biggest hit to date “Gooey” was played on stage, the crowd was really warming up and not being so shy with their awkward dance moves. Some hopped on tables to get their wind on, a few couples in the back danced a strange salsa-like routine to Glass Animal’s soothing, sensuous “Gooey” sound.

At times, the sound quality was poor, leaving you wondering what Dave Bayley was singing, but, overall, the band played a perfect rendition of Zaba. After 11 tracks, they called it quits only to march back on stage within seconds of the crowd cheering for an encore. The encore consisted of their amazing cover of Kanye West’s “Love Lockdown,” which left the crowd swaying and singing along to the popular song’s lyrics. Animals really made the track their own, giving the intense song a beautifully lighter sound. The band decided to end the night with “Pools,” another track from their Zaba EP. The set was short, ending just after an hour.

Glass Animals are an obviously talented quad of young men who have their entire musical career ahead of them. With easy-to-like tracks like “Gooey” and “Black Mambo,” which can best be classified as psychedelic indie R&B, they have a sound that can be appreciated by almost anyone. Their performance at the Horseshoe Tavern was too short and left me wanting more; however, that is never a bad thing. I know the next time they’re in Toronto the crowd that attended on Friday will make sure to return and get another full fix of the Glass Animals, and, by the time that happens, they’ll likely be heard on every mainstream radio station. With a strong sound and an amazingly talented vocalist, the Glass Animals are destined to become renowned worldwide, and it surely won’t take long to be loved by the masses.

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