Anastasia fills the stage -- big, but not quite us

Nostalgia, hits and little quirks at Wonderfestiwall

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Anastasia fills the stage -- big, but not quite us

First of all: great respect to Wonderfestiwall for international booking of that calibre. Anastasia on the poster is both big and nostalgic -- in fact, she might as well have been the headliner of Tivoli's lineup for Friday Rock. She was present, energetic and the exact opposite of a drawn-out show. With eight musicians on stage, nothing was spared.

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Disclaimer: Apropos Magazine received access or a review copy. As always, we share our own impressions — unfiltered.

Six stars

There's something fascinating about these kinds of bookings. The international pop star who may no longer fill the biggest arenas but still has enough back catalogue to get an entire audience to sing along. It's a booking that gives both prestige and reassurance: we know the songs, we know the voice, we know the narrative. That's for sure, but it's also fun — and that's exactly the kind of move that makes Wonderfestiwall more than just another Danish festival with Tessa, Koridorer of Power and Blown on the poster.

Anastasia is a singer you can hardly talk about without mentioning the word “hits”. Not because she has an endless row, but because the few she does have are so defining for an entire term. Not That Kind of Girl, Paid My Dues, Left Outside Alone — these are titles that are almost written directly into the memory of all of us who had MTV running in the background in the early '00s. When they're played live, it almost feels like stepping into some kind of karaoke community, where we all know the lyrics together but forget the verses we never quite grasped.

However, there were also gaps in the catalog. For even a singer of Anastasia's calibre needs to fill in when the set stretches further than Spotify's top five most streamed. Here we were presented with a little extra talk and interaction — nicknames for the band members, small comments that seemed a bit out of place, and a few impromptu touches that probably worked better on paper than in practice.

And then there were the cover numbers. A 90s medley with the Backstreet Boys, a tour through Sweet Child O' Mine — classics that can arouse equal parts joy and skepticism. Sweet Child O' Mine worked surprisingly well. You may still remember the infamous Anastasia/Céline Dion fad where a cover hit right next door, but this evening she succeeded. Not because she outdid Guns N' Roses (after all, no one does), but because she did it with excess, respect and without falling into the cringe trap. It was one of those moments when you felt that she still can.

The sound, on the other hand, was a pleasure. Where several other concertgoers at the festival struggled with balancing decibels and clarity, Anastasia stood sharp. Her vocals were allowed to carry through without drowning in the band, and the energy onstage was unmistakable. There was both presence and commitment, and it was never a show that felt mechanical. She gave everything -- and she has to be given credit for that.

Still, it wasn't quite our concert. And, in reality, it may not be her fault. Because what do you do when the power of nostalgia isn't enough to move anything in the present? When the big moments feel like reunions more than like new experiences? We got the songs, we got the show, we got the energy -- but we never got that feeling of being carried away.

And that, perhaps, is the festival's challenge, too: to present a name big enough to generate hype but not necessarily relevant enough to touch us completely. Anastasia fit perfectly into the narrative of Wonderfestiwall as a festival, but for us it was a concert that you leave happy without feeling like you have experienced anything that changes you.

Reflection:

Concerts like this make one think about what we're really looking for in music. Is it the feeling of recognising ourselves in old hits? Or is it the need to be moved somewhere we haven't been before? Anastasia gave us the security, the nostalgia and the professionalism. And she did it well. But she didn't take us anywhere new.

We could sing along, we could laugh at the little quirks, we could enjoy the sound -- but we couldn't quite love it. As her own music suggests: I'm Outta Love. That's kind of how it felt in the end.

Peter Milo

Editor

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