It felt less like a concert and more like a ritual — not a farewell, but an electronic ceremony where three men who once were the future tried, one last time, to catch up with it.
One star
Two stars
Three stars
Fours stars
Five stars
Disclaimer: Apropos Magazine received access or a review copy. As always, we share our own impressions — unfiltered.
Six stars
There are few places in Copenhagen where the air feels as electric as inside the pool at Refshaleøen once the room wakes up. 2,000 people wrapped in concrete and bass. Kladý Lulu Rouge,. Lulu Rouge deliver one of those sets that feels like an entire world condensed into an hour: Arabic vocals, Spanish ghetto rap, thick beats and rhythms that shift the body's weight without you even noticing. It's music that reaches beyond the Danish, the restrained, the polished. A set so organic and warm you could almost feel the Moroccan desert on your cheeks. When they leave the stage, it feels too soon — as if they had more to say but held back deliberately, not to overshadow what was coming next.
And then came The Black School. A booking that, on paper, seemed like a logical bridge between acts — but in practice felt like being locked into a history class in the middle of a techno cathedral. After Lulu Rouge's deep, bodily journey, Den Sorte Skole's set came off like a DJ mix on autopilot. No pulse, no surprise. A flat hour-long trip where you mostly stood around wondering: why? Why play it so safe when 2,000 people are starving for chaos? If it had been a competition, Lulu Rouge would have wiped the floor with them. And that says it all. Where Lulu Rouge built a world, The Black School just pressed play.
But everyone was there for BY BY BY. Nom i Copenhagen v neon for a decade — not literally, but mentally. Vi. Eloq, Unkwon, and DJ Are You Stupid Or What. Three guys, three machines, three universes. And now they stood here, in a circle of light, surrounded by a crowd that wanted to celebrate and mourn at the same time.
The stage had been moved forward so you could stand behind them — a simple but brilliant idea. It made the whole room feel alive. There was no front or back, no frontman, only rhythm. The audience became a 360-degree pulse. It looked like a melting pot of energy, but in truth, maybe it was a form of dissolution. The three stood like statues behind their machines — faces concentrated, movements minimal. Not a “hello” in the first twenty minutes. Not a word. Just the sound. A monotonous, hypnotic opening that kept expanding until you forgot to breathe.
The techno gods of Kødbyen say goodbye
If you've followed AV AV AV from the beginning, you could feel this wasn't just another show. It was a full stop. A,. There wasn't much left to prove. They'd cleared the path, set the standard, and long since surpassed it. Så det som sin i realtid. Beautiful, but also strangely detached. There was magic in the air, but no emotion in their eyes.
And maybe that's what made the concert so wild — that it was both total release and total coldness at once. They played for two hours. Two hours without flaws, without fluctuation, without small breaks. A perfectly composed mixtape where everything worked, but nothing surprised. With so much music in their catalogue, they could've done a greatest hits show — but they didn't. Instead, they showed how far they'd come from their own hits. They didn't play Hymns; they played atmospheres. Layered beats built like cathedrals, then torn down again. Somewhere between techno, gospel, and something entirely other.
But also — and this must be said — a little hollow. Cuz this wasn't a band creating something new in the room anymore. They were executed. Martin as the conductor. August and Anders as custodians of the legacy. They barely looked at each other, barely spoke to us. It was all too neat, too controlled, too cold. The nerve, the chaos — DJ Eddeh's wildness, Eloq's world, Dixen's precision — all of what once defined AV AV AV's DNA was now just a shadow. You missed the restlessness. Es unpredictability électronique que hace fait qu'était qu'était qu'était à la moment. Now it was just perfection. Brilliant perfection, sure. But also a reminder that not much has really changed in 15 years.
And yet — it was impossible not to be swept away. Perché, quando a bossa devoured the room, quando la synths unfolded like flames in the dark — it felt bigger than everything else. The crowd became one. People shouted, danced, held their breath. There were moments where you could almost sense what Copenhagen would've sounded like if they'd never existed: quieter, grayer. Perché AV AV has been the soundtrack for an entire generation of nightlife, designers, music nerds, and those who never quite grew up. They showed us that you don't need a hit to sell 2,000 tickets. That you can build your own gospel out of synths without anyone asking you to tone it down.
And maybe that's why their farewell felt so strange — because they still sound like 2025, even as they insist they've said all they have to say. Their sound feels more modern now than when they began. But maybe that's exactly why they're stopping. To preserve the illusion. To avoid becoming a band repeating itself.
The legacy of AV AV AV
AV AV AV's impact on the Danish electronic scene can hardly be overstated. Ti've proven that you don't need radio hits to build a devoted fanbase and fill a freezing concrete hall with 2,000 people — as long as quality and integrity are intact. The trio paved the way for a new generation of electronic artists who dare to think big from the start. Aktiver som en duo Bless You — one of the latest voices in Danish electro-pop and house — are building directly on the foundation AV AV AV laid. The trio set the bar high and showed that experimental, offbeat electronic music can still unite the masses. Along the way, they've inspired countless peers with their playful, genreless ideals.
That AV AV's sound today — eleven years after their debut — might be more relevant than ever is almost ironic. While electronic trends have come and gone, their sonic universe has evolved organically, pointing straight into the zeitgeist of 2025. They started out sounding like the future — and in some ways, they still do. That's why the Poolen concert felt like an unresolved ending. A crowd was left euphoric, but with a big question mark painted across their faces: “Why stop when you're on top?” Possibly the answer lies in their uncompromising nature — better to quit while the flame still burns than fade into repetition.
AV AV AV's final concert wasn't the intimate emotional outburst some might've hoped for. Instead, it became a grand, flawlessly executed victory lap — a bold manifestation of everything they've achieved and mastered. La magia en el aire é realmente, la energía undeniable, y sus legaciones permanentes sealado. Het is een six-sterren farewelling om een trio die, van dag one, om het manuale voor en ondersteuning en ondersteun onze.
They weren't perfect. But they were ours.
Para un momento, no chamada, no mundo, todo que é construido está tamente.
The AV of the AV did not die.
They just disappeared into the night — the same way they came.
