That’s Why I Keep Returning To Unsound

In the old medical auditorium at ul. Kopernika 15 – where the walls still remember another kind of pain – Unsound’s Morning Glory concerts take place. Here, the French guitar deconstructor Nina Garcia pushed her instrument to the breaking point: piercing feedback, pulsing noise, and small rhythmic movements that glinted like metal in the morning light.

If Lars von Trier ever filmed a Polish hospital, this would be the place

Afternoon Glory featured yet another guitar deconstructor, Tashi Dorji. The Bhutanese artist »peeled« his guitar apart with almost ceremonial patience, making calm gear shifts along the way and – after forty minutes – a single outburst.

During the Glory concerts, there are no visuals – only the sun pouring into the auditorium, only the noise breaking the clinical calm of the former hospital grounds. If Lars von Trier ever filmed a Polish hospital, this would be the place. And if the Poland-loving Dane ever made a series about a hotel, he would no doubt fall for Hotel Forum: the cold concrete, the 1980s wood panels and – when Unsound takes over the building – the sounds drilling through its walls.

After a few years away, the festival finally returned – just two weeks before this year’s edition – to its mythical concrete heart.

When the building itself begins to sing

Forum – the enormous brutalist hotel that once hosted party gatherings and foreign diplomats – is today an experience centre. Still, it felt slightly absurd to see people eating pastries at midnight while Danish trombonist Maria Bertel let her instrument speak in metallic vibrations and deep, physical hums – as if trying to open cracks in the hotel’s foundation. Sixteen intense minutes!

Autotuned voices shimmered with cool energy, floating above a bassline as funky as foam concrete

Scottish bagpiper Brìghde Chaimbeul played briefly but intensely – a drone journey at her own pace, as precise and elegant as the weightless ambient of American trio Purelink.

In the Ballroom, Norwegian duo Smerz opened a window into a glimmering Nordic electropop universe, where autotuned voices shimmered with cool energy, floating above a bassline as funky as foam concrete.

Without a hint of expression, he split his DJ set into layers where amen breaks, dub, and soul fused into a sweaty, hypnotic circuit

What else happened in the hotel? Well – in his black leather jacket, A Guy Called Gerald stood like a living monument to the birth of Jungle. Without a hint of expression, he split his DJ set into layers where amen breaks, dub, and soul fused into a sweaty, hypnotic circuit. Gerald Simpson still speaks the language he helped invent.

The Indonesian duo KUNTARI have invented their own genre: primal-core. With percussion and an adventurous guitar, they threw sludge metal, minimalism, jazz, and Javanese folk into an explosive mix – an electronic odyssey that sounded as if it had emerged from deep within a volcanic cave, among smoke, resonance, and animal calls.

An electronic odyssey that sounded as if it had emerged from deep within a volcanic cave, among smoke, resonance, and animal calls

Footwork legend RP Boo and Polish drummer Piotr Gwadera found a new common language between Chicago’s bass music and Polish folk tones. Out of the tension between them emerged a pulsing, almost ritual flow. The bass breathed up through the floor of Hotel Forum.

Crooning, control, and unexpected encounters

Out in the socialist district of Nowa Huta, New York’s YHWH Nailgun exploded in a set that was both melodic and destructive.

Frontman Zack Borzone sang with a mix of croon and scream – as if the voice itself were a weapon. On the same stage, the British eight-piece collective Caroline demonstrated their lively post-rock with fragile vocals. Do I understand now why the Brits are obsessed with Caroline? Oh yes, I do.

At Kino Kijów, American KA Baird and Japanese FUJI|||||||||||TA created a pulsing rhythm orgy between voice and electronics. Baird’s voice creaked and cut above a groovy beat as she wielded two microphones, pressed them against her hip, blew, screamed, and whispered.

Even her flute – which she used this time, unlike in her previous Unsound show in the same cinema – exploded into crisp sonic images framed by FUJI|||||||||||TA’s organic, enveloping soundscapes.

At Kino Kijów, American KA Baird and Japanese FUJI|||||||||||TA created a pulsing rhythm orgy between voice and electronics

Unsound offered many such unexpected encounters. On opposite sides of a table covered in electronics sat Actress and Suzanne Ciani – like two scientists of sound’s darkness, probing and hesitating before a shared beat slowly took shape: somewhere between algorithm and intuition, between spiritual tone and cool texture. The spark didn’t always ignite, but the search itself became the work.

Equally searching – and never quite successful – was The Providenza Ensemble, a collaboration between Sinfonietta Cracovia and electronic musicians Kelman Duran, Loraine James, and Puce Mary. Just when the music seemed about to find form, it slipped through the fingers like steam.

Everything is accessible – that’s why we long 

Unsound began as a small festival in Kraków in 2003. Since then, it has grown into an international phenomenon. This year, Unsound held its first festival in Osaka, and next week comes Unsound New York.

What do we do with TikTok stars and Apple girls pulled onto the stage?

Once again, Unsound overflowed with discussions – because here, the conversation about the role of sound in our time is as important as the music itself. Amid abundance and algorithmic noise, the festival asked: What do we do with TikTok stars and Apple girls pulled onto the stage? What do we do when AI starts digging into the depths of creativity and sets copyright ablaze? Instead of clinging to old rules, researcher Zachary Cooper urged artists to take back control – to create their own systems in a time when the struggle over ideas and ownership has taken new forms.

Researchers, curators, and musicians tried to understand what it means to create in a world where everything already exists. Never before in history has all music, all sound, and all aesthetics been available at once. Hence, there is now nostalgia for virtually every genre.

Oh, and in case you hadn’t noticed: the Tumblr aesthetic has returned, and immersive concerts – those sensory bubbles of experience – have become the new path to attention.

One could almost sense the theatre guru’s presence as Japanese artist 1729 conjured an acoustic echo of his sorrow-stained theatre universe

Echoes from beyond

This year, Unsound moved into the Tadeusz Kantor Cricoteka museum. One could almost sense the theatre guru’s presence as Japanese artist 1729 conjured an acoustic echo of his sorrow-stained theatre universe – a space of sirens, voices, and fragmented sounds from the exhibition, unfolding slowly as an acoustic and infinite afterlife.
The Philharmonic concert, on the other hand, was a bloodless finale to the festival. Harry Górski-Brown (bagpipes), Wojciech Rusin (electronics), and Sinfonietta Cracovia merged into foggy soundscapes where everything blended into a grey haze. 

Kara-Lis Coverdale’s piano meditations were dreamy but also draining – the intimacy vanished in the large hall. The orchestra didn’t even appear until forty minutes in. Why?

Vocal pioneer Joan La Barbara seemed downright misplaced. Imagine if her chirps, screams, and sensual imitations of nature sounds had echoed in Club 89 in Hotel Forum’s basement – surrounded by concrete and darkness. There, she would undoubtedly have overpowered even the most thunderous bass.

Since my first visit in 2012, Unsound has been my annual escape into a parallel world

A parallel world of sound

89 – also known as The Secret Lodge – is clad in carpeting on both floor and ceiling, as if the room intends to absorb every sound. Space-like lamps cast a cool sci-fi glow across the space, reinforcing the sensation of being in a place beyond time. Here, one of the festival’s most memorable concerts took place: Jim O’Rourke and Eiko Ishibashi interpreted Polish electronic pioneer Włodzimierz Kotoński in a dialogue between time and matter. Kotoński’s sound molecules were released and sent into a new orbit, while analog layers of noise and reverb made the basement vibrate like a living archive. Hypnotic.

In general, you could drift through countless electronic universes across the hotel’s three stages: reggaeton-techno from Bogotá (Bclip), abstract guitar horizons (Robert Piotrowicz), and surreal ambient journeys with a touch of Nordic gothic (2K88, Rainy Miller, Lauren Duffus, and Bianca Scout).

Forum feels like a ghost from another era. Maybe that’s why I always return. Since my first visit in 2012, Unsound has been my annual escape into a parallel world – into a concrete heart in Poland, where noise and silence still vibrate together.

Unsound, Kraków, October 7–12, 2025

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek. Proofreading: Seb Doubinsky