It began with mud up to the ankles and trousers sticking like a bad decision. After the first 25 cheek kisses with people you may once have known in another life, on a dark nightclub floor, I had barely managed my first sip of natural wine before the whole square started trembling with anticipation. You have to give the festival crowd ten stars for being open to something new — because let’s be honest, 99% were there to see Justice at 10.40 p.m. And when they came on, it was clear: this was not just another concert. It was a rave mass 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’s as if Justice knows we’ve come to be saved. And that kind of salvation doesn’t necessarily require a cross. For even though their iconic glowing symbol was nowhere to be seen, it felt as if the entire O Days grounds were lit by something resembling hope — or at least hard French techno.
We arrived prepared. Long trousers, rain jacket, and the festival mix only Denmark can deliver: men in Salomon shoes with their keys clipped to their belt loops, women in outfits so minimal you have to assume they’d been rubbing themselves with Tiger Balm since breakfast. We drank natural wine from Lieu-Dit, pilsner from ÅBEN, and threw ourselves into an Aeris pre-mix. O Days is just the right size: big enough to explore, small enough not to get lost. Two minutes to beer. One minute to piss. Three to an artwork you don’t understand but photograph anyway.
And then it was time. Justice stepped out of the dark, not like messiahs, but like two French aesthetes with a hard drive full of remixed bangers. They played most of Cross, but in updated, EDM-driven versions. “Under the Spotlights” was pushed into a remix with references to both Birdman and Tiësto, and you could feel the crowd split over it. Personally? I missed a bit of the original’s edge. It felt a little like being served a Michelin dish — but with chili mayo instead of truffle.
And yet. Because when the tempo was cranked up towards the end — we’re talking 145 BPM, maybe 150 — something happened. A rave bus thundered through the crowd, and the whole stage turned into something resembling Bootshaus in Cologne. You know, the kind of place where even your middle-manager uncle suddenly starts headbanging with draft beer in his beard. That was where it all peaked. The release. The sound, the light, the body — everything was turned up by 75% and wouldn’t let us go until we’d thrown our hands in the air and forgotten all about mud and wood chips.
Speaking of wood chips. They could have invested in a bit more of those. Because when you look down at your soaked sneakers, ankle-deep in mud, it’s hard not to think someone forgot just how much it can rain in Denmark in July. But can you deduct stars for the weather? No. But you can add one if the sun shines. That’s just how it is.
And the show? Classic Justice in many ways. Intense, visually dazzling, with edits that worked — and a few that felt like too much Red Bull and not enough finesse. “DVNO” got an EDM drop that would have made Tiësto proud, but maybe also left Xavier and Gaspard from 2007 a little disappointed. It was like being served a croissant with butter and then getting 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 truth…
EDM versions of classics are bloody dangerous. But Justice made it work — partly. Their set was not just a nostalgia trip, but proof that they can still reinvent themselves without selling their soul entirely. And when you end the night covered in mud but with a pounding heart, you know it was all worth it.
