Todd Rundgren guested Amager Bio on Tuesday night with a show that moved between grand guitar solos, theatrical gestures and fan arrangements so outlandish you had to surrender. A concert that reminded us that versatility doesn't have to mean unfocus -- when performed by someone who has lived the entire history of music at once.
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Disclaimer: Apropos Magazine received access or a review copy. As always, we share our own impressions — unfiltered.
Six stars
There are concerts you go to for reassurance — and then there are the rare ones where you walk in not knowing what to expect. Todd Rundgren at Amager Bio was the latter. The kind of night that happens once a decade, like finding a hidden door in music history. The last time he played Danish soil was back in 2013 — I didn’t even live here then — so I’d had over ten years to look forward to it.
Rundgren has been at it since the ’60s — as a solo artist, as the frontman of Utopia, and as the producer behind everyone from Meat Loaf to Patti Smith. He’s had more musical eras than most artists have albums, and it shows. If I had to sum up the night in one word, it would be versatile. Not in a confused way, but in the way of someone who’s lived every possible musical life and still finds new ways to be Todd Rundgren.
The show started right on time — 8 p.m. sharp. No intro, no delay, just a six-piece band, half of them wearing sunglasses indoors in that old-school, unselfconscious way that loops back around to cool. Priceless. The opener sounded like a lost Utopia track — maybe not big enough for a stadium, but tailor-made for Amager Bio. Rundgren bounced from grand guitar solos to almost Sting-like ballads, only with the crucial difference that you could actually hear the last two words of every line.
His voice was surprisingly intact — crisp, clear, and full of character. During “Wouldn’t You Like to Know” he stood center stage under a single spotlight, singing in a way that felt both intimate and universal. One of those moments that makes an entire room go still.
Another highlight was “Kindness,” where Rundgren grabbed a conductor’s baton and started directing half the band. Theatrical, yes — but deeply felt and oddly beautiful. A few songs featured strange flutes and wind instruments you couldn’t quite identify — which, of course, made them work. Rundgren’s tried almost everything before, but the man still loves to play.
At one point, during “Stag,” he made a hand gesture straight out of Pan’s Labyrinth — palms to his face like a human mask — as if he were singing in sign language. You could almost read the lyrics in his movements. Priceless again.
Later, he started scratching his guitar and half-rapping a verse. Suddenly it sounded like Rage Against the Machine on Valium. I have no idea what was happening, but somehow it worked. Not because of raw energy — Rundgren doesn’t exactly radiate Zac de la Rocha — but because he refuses to be predictable.
At one point, he pinched his nose mid-song to create a nasal tone — the kind of move where you think, this is either genius or too much. But that’s Rundgren: constantly in motion, somewhere between art and self-parody, and perfectly fine with not knowing which.
The encore kicked off with a medley of his biggest hits. It felt deliberate — as if he’s played them so many times that the only way to make them fun again is to mess with them. And yet, this was also the first time he truly reached out to the audience, inviting us to sing along — half ironic, half sincere. When the lights came up, he walked down to the stage edge, signed vinyls, and handed out high-fives.
Todd Rundgren at Amager Bio wasn’t nostalgic, and it wasn’t a greatest-hits parade. It was a glimpse inside an artist’s restless mind — playful, messy, and completely alive.
If you go to concerts to feel that someone still loves being on stage, you should’ve been there.
