It was Merchant’s Day Weekend 2024 when the independent DIY underground music festival Norðanpaunk turned 10 years old. This great weekend shall not be soon forgotten, no matter how much Prosecco was chugged from a large plastic bottle in front of a bonfire. My first Norðanpaunk was in 2016, when my former band Antimony played our next to last show.
This year, I was heading up to the festival for my fifth time and the first time where I was not performing. I was still doing my part for the festival team, hauling up the joints for the merch tent that were forgotten in the basement of Andrými. Parked my car and popped a bottle I finally pulled into Laugarbakki — the hometown of Ásgeir Trausti that barely qualifies as a village — just after 22:00 on Friday night.
Philomena Cunk’s favourite song “Pump Up The Jam” came on shuffle as I turned off the main road. I parked in front of the community centre, lit a smoke, flopped out of my car and popped a bottle of bubbly as I walked over to my friends in the Börn/Dauðyflin crew, who were posted up in their usual camping spot, hollering at each other across the field. This moment is my favourite of each festival; coming in hot, finding my friends and opening up the proverbial pit.
While catching up with friends from abroad, someone suddenly came barrelling out of the front door of the hall screaming in people’s faces. My first instinct was to look for a member of the harm reduction team from the Matthildur Associa.