Soli City. © Bruno Modesto Leal
Soli City. © Bruno Modesto Leal

Electronic duo Vanessa Amara are riding a wave of success at the moment. Last year, their caustic take on Gudmundsen-Holmgreen’s organ music earned them credits on Rosalía’s much-hyped Duolingo album LUX, and this summer Birk Gjerlufsen and Sebastián Santillana – both former volunteers at Koncertkirken – will appear at Roskilde Festival.

But on Thursday night at Christianshavns Beboerhus, they were overshadowed by RMC alumnus Harald Bjørn, who opened under the alias Soli City. He too placed a classical instrument, the cello, at the centre of his electronic music, and his masterstroke was to make it shimmer like a beautiful, lost memory amid a restless abundance of chopped-up hyperpop aesthetics and melancholic spoken-word poetry.

The cello, played on electric keyboard, was synthetic yet human: an intentionally sloppy fragment that set the tone for half an hour of dissolution. Even when Soli City reached for life with an urgent handclap beat in a vast sonic space, it was staged like a chance pause during a flickering radio scan, while relaxed piano chords sustained an ambient sadness. Impressive.

It was refreshing when Vanessa Amara followed with a different, ecstatic take on the atomised information society. At their best – and they were at their best in the beginning – the duo combined, with Kanye West-inspired genre agnosticism, distorted pop samples and polytonal church organ until the 21st century seemed ready to come apart at the seams. It was sublime, simply put.

But instead of delving deeper into the forces they unleashed, the duo quickly moved between tracks and veered far too early into dull, therapeutic deep house, a mode they never left again. We barely had time to lose our footing before we were handed a group hug – and frankly, I’d rather do without.

© PR
© PR

On Wednesday, 5 August 2026, it happened again: a chord in John Cage’s Organ2/ASLSP (As Slow as Possible) changed after two and a half years. Classic FM reports.

The work was written by the American avant-garde composer John Cage in the mid-1980s. The score consists of eight pages of music, and, as the title suggests, the instruction is to play it »as slow as possible.«

»What music is to me? Where have the great feelings gone?«.

Gellért Szabó is a composer, conductor and performer based in Leipzig, Germany. His work combines contemporary composition with influences from free improvisation, noise and the expressive richness of the late nineteenth century. He is the founder and artistic director of the 23-piece Ideal Orchestra, an ensemble dedicated to large-scale experimental music of sweeping emotional intensity. Alongside this work, Szabó performs internationally with his solo project Radical Radio Show, exploring symphonic textures and immersive sound worlds through a single electric guitar and live electronics. His music is driven by a search for intensity, vulnerability and uncompromising emotional expression.

© Christoffer Askman
© Christoffer Askman

From the Culture Yard in Helsingør, ships glide past Kronborg Castle through the narrow waters of the Øresund – a reminder of the trade routes that, for centuries, have carried goods, people and power between the Nordic region and the wider world. It is an apt point of departure for the Passage Festival, and for Marie Dahl's vocal work Silk. Sugar. Sand, which explores the intertwined histories of three materials.

Silk. Sugar. Sand is a vocal performance in three acts tracing the historical journeys of these materials through colonialism, the global economy and geopolitics. Five singers from Ars Nova Copenhagen perform within a minimalist scenography consisting almost entirely of coloured light and three sets of costumes that transform throughout the performance: first silk dresses, then crinoline-like structures evoking sugar loaves, and finally grey stone-like forms suggesting accumulations of sand.

The work's central device is to translate the physical properties of these materials into vocal expression. At one moment, the elasticity of silk becomes soft, flowing polyphony; at the next, a cocoon-like electronic crackle. Sugar's crystalline structure is rendered as sharp vocal attacks – brief, whip-like cracks – as well as sweet, intimate whispers, while sand creaks and rustles, resonating with a libretto about economy and domination, violence and desire.

The performance has no conventional narrative, and the five singers portray no distinct characters, moving somewhat stiffly across the stage, as performers often do when their primary focus is on the voice. Comparisons with Hotel Pro Forma's Flammenwerfer are difficult to avoid. There, the production's rigorous aesthetic was counterbalanced by C.F. Hill's wildly expressive visual universe and Blixa Bargeld's deeply vulnerable stage presence. Those qualities are missing from Marie Dahl's carefully controlled staging, which could have benefited from more of the sensitivity and chaos that also form part of Kirsten Dehlholm's artistic legacy.

© PR

»To us, music is a primal, elemental force that allows us to shed our inhibitions.«

Leizure is a Copenhagen-based quintet operating at the intersection of post-punk, no wave, and experimental rock. The band’s sound is characterized by atonal vocals, piercing saxophone, hypnotic guitar riffs, and a rhythmic foundation that oscillates between tight precision and raw intensity. 

The band’s upcoming album, The Guillotine, explores themes such as societal decay, upheaval, and the challenging of established structures – all conveyed through a direct and high-energy musical style.

© Robin Skjoldborg
© Robin Skjoldborg

Danish musician, author, and artist Martin Hall has died at the age of 63. According to his family, he passed away from a heart attack at his home in Frederiksberg on Tuesday, 21 July.

Since the early 1980s, Hall left an indelible mark on Danish music and cultural life – first with Ballet Mécanique and Under For, and later through an extensive solo career that moved effortlessly between experimental music, electronic pop, poetry, performance, and literature. He leaves behind one of the most substantial discographies and bibliographies in Danish cultural history.