It began with mud up to the ankles and pants that sticky like a bad decision. After the first 25 cheek kisses with people you might once have known from a previous life in a dark nightclub, I barely managed to take first sips of natural wine before the whole square began to quiver with anticipation. You have to give the audience at the festival ten stars for being open to experiencing something new -- because let's be honest, 99 percent were there to see Justice at 10:40 p.m. And as they went on, it was clear: This wasn't just another concert. It was a rave fair, disguised as a festival.
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Disclaimer: Apropos Magazine received access or a review copy. As always, we share our own impressions — unfiltered.
Six stars
It is as if Justice knows that we have come to be saved. And that sort of thing doesn't necessarily require a cross. For though their iconic luminous symbol gleamed at its absence, it was as if the entire O Days square was lit up by something reminiscent of hope -- or at least hard French techno.
We arrived prepared. Long trousers, raincoats and the festival mix only Denmark can provide: men in Salomon shoes and keys in the belt loop, women in outfits so minimalistic that you have to assume they have smeared themselves in Tiger Balm from the morning. We drank natural wine from Lieu-Dit, lager from OPEN and plunged into an Aeris pre-mix. O Days has the size where you can go exploring without getting lost. Two minutes for beer. One minute to piss. Three for a work of art you don't understand but still take a picture of.
And then it was time. Justice stepped forward into the darkness, not as messiah, but as two French aesthetes with a hard drive full of remixed bangers. They played most of Crosses, but in updated, EDM-powered versions. “Under the Spotlights” was pushed into a remix with references to both Birdman and Tiësto, and you could feel it dividing the audience. Personally? I missed a bit of the original's edge. It felt a bit like being served a Michelin dish -- but with chili mayo instead of truffle.
And yet. Because when the pace was cranked up toward the end -- we're talking 145 BPM, maybe 150 -- something happened. A rave bus blared through the audience, and the whole stage was transformed into something reminiscent of the Bootshaus in Cologne. You know, the kind of place where even your middle-manager uncle suddenly stands headbanging with draft beer in his beard. This is where it all culminated. The Redemption. The sound, the light, the body — it was all turned up by 75% and didn't let us go again until we had thrown our hands in the air and forgot all about the mud and chips.
Speaking of wood chips. We could have invested in a little more of it. Because when you look down at his soaked sneakers in mud to the ankles, it's hard not to think that someone has forgotten how much it may rain in Denmark in July. But can one draw stars for breath? No. But one can add if the sun is shining. That's the way it is.
And what about the show? Classic Justice in many ways. Intense, visually dazzling, with edits that worked — and some that felt like too much Red Bull and too little finesse. “DVNO” got an EDM drop that would have made Tiësto proud but perhaps also slightly disappointed Xavier and Gaspard of 2007. It was like getting a croissant with butter and then just a shot of Jack3d on top.
But it was still an experience. One of those concerts where, in the middle of it all, you forget what time it is — and when you look again, it's over. Justice remained Justice. Older, sharper, more rave and less crucified. But still with a mission: To deliver a total experience in light, sound and sweaty shoulders.
In reality...
EDM versions of classics are piss-dangerous. But Justice made it work -- in part. Their set was not only a nostalgia trip, but proof that they can still innovate without completely selling the soul. And when you end the evening covered in mud, but with a beating heart, you know it was all worth it.
