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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.
I had really hoped that Spike Lee and Denzel Washington's first collaboration since Inside Man would be a comeback. But Highest 2 Lowest feels like a prestige project with amnesia -- a film that will be community commentary, thriller and music video all at once. And loses himself in the attempt.
Deathloop takes place like a murderous Groundhog Day, where protagonist Colt balances memory loss and the curse of being the only one who remembers what's going on. An existential paradox disguised as an action game.
I've seen many bands in the Royal Arena, but rarely one that could at the same time seem so well-oiled and so improvised. OneRepublic has billions of streams on its conscience, but still acts like a bunch of old classmates who just needed to get together and play a bit. It is both their strength and their weakness.
I've always identified myself as a gamer. Not the kind of gamer who yells in headsets or collects trophies -- but the existential kind who plays to survive everyday life. From my childish longing for a Stone of Jordan in Diablo II to my over a thousand hours in Call of Duty during lockdown, gaming has always been my free space. But when I became a father, gaming became something new. It became therapy. A sanctuary where I could sit with my son on my lap, controller in hand and feel that we were actually in sync for the first time that week. And then came Astro Bot.
I had actually told myself that I was done with games that try to kill me for fun. But then came Silksong. And suddenly I was sitting there again -- with sweaty palms, coffee on the table and a sense that the world outside could be waiting. It is a game that does not ask for your time, but requires your patience. And when you finally hit the beat, it's like remembering why you even started playing.
I thought I was done with revenge games. Finished with samurai tales and men in slow motion shouting to the heavens as the blood spurts in aesthetic arcs. But Ghost of Yōtei feels different. It smells of steel and rain, feels like a Zen poem disguised as carnage and manages, somehow, to make revenge beautiful. It's rare, a game makes me slow down and just look. Yet here I sit, in the middle of a Japanese mountain pass, with controller in hand and the sense that it's not just enemies I'm fighting, but myself.
I don't know what's most absurd: that I've seen a K-pop anime musical twice in one week -- or that I loved it. KPop Demon Hunters is possibly the best movie I've seen in 2025, and it feels like a concession I should write under a pseudonym. I went into it with the same expectation that one has when a friend insists that you “just have to watch a YouTube video.” And I went back out with tears in my eyes and the tinnitus of trap-beats.
I would have written off the entire Alien franchise a long time ago. It's hard not to lose faith when something you love is being tampered with again and again, like an old wound that never calms. But Alien: Earth does something I didn't think possible: it makes me believe in the dark again.
I had never heard of Nordic Race before we signed up. On paper, it looked like a crossfitter's wettest dream and a family father's nightmare. I pictured pumped-up men in bare upper bodies crawling over burning cars while the crowd threw protein bars at them. Instead, it became a day of surprises — and the constant fear of having the “bracelet of shame” cut off the wrist.
Either you're there to truant. Or you're there to find work. I don't know what I was doing at TechBBQ myself, but I walked out of there with a pair of free stockings and an existential nausea I still haven't gotten over.
I remember back in the day when it was evident when bands were known on Myspace. They had a special energy that followed them onto the stage. On Wednesday night in Little Vega, I learned what happens when one has become known through YouTube.
Path of Exile 2 is back with beta 0.3.0 -- and it feels like Christmas Eve for a Casual Gamer Dad. We who grew up with gaming but now juggle diapers, coffee and baby screams are finally getting a game where the pause button is as important as the loot. The game is massive, endless -- and perfect for dads who are gaming on borrowed time.
Usually we only run around in mud if it's at a festival. But this time we are going to OCR — Obstacle Course Racing at Reffen. And no, our OCD helps us nothing here.
I had actually just ticked Unrest in the program because I remembered the video where he and Suspekt “freestyled” over their hit “Thinking of Others”. The idea was to stop by, hear a few tracks and then move on. But the sun was bright, the energy impossible to ignore — and suddenly there I was, swaying and completely engulfed.
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.
We always start at the same place when we go to Bornholm: at Torvehallerne. Coffee, provisions and a firm editorial rule that you must never eat food on the ferry -- we don't need to explain why, but let's just say a few buffets have ruined several good excursions. From there it goes like clockwork: through the Swedish countryside to Ystad, on the ferry, and then it almost feels easier than finding a buffet at Fisketorvet.
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.
Eric Bana returns as a martyr ISB agent with liver problems and emotional baggage wrapped in down jacket and whiskey breath. Untamed looks like an Instagram filter on a family drama: visually overwhelming, but internally everyone is disintegrating. A quiet, slow crime that doesn't shout loudly — but lingers.
This is the second time in less than a month I have seen Charli XCX — last in Paris, smashed by a celestial storm, and here in Roskilde under heavy rain. It feels like God has asked us to experience her in a stormy weather -- and I'm ready to shout “AMEN.”
She's written the soundtrack to an entire generation of heartbreak -- but on the Orange Scene it sounded mostly like an exam in American pop. It was big, cute and a little too streamlined. And perhaps that's why it never really became dangerous.
We walked past Arena to reach Tyla. We so didn't. For Nine Inch Nails pulled us in like a magnetic force, and suddenly we were standing in the middle of a mechanical fair for anger, melancholy and lighting design.
It looked like something big. Something thought. Something with staircase, message and dancers and Orange Scene. But when the confetti had settled, I was left with a feeling of... wait, what exactly was it that I had just seen?
Damon Albarn has more Roskilde stamps in his passport than any other Briton alive today. Blur, Gorillaz, The Good, The Bad & The Queen - and then this one: Africa Express. As a kind of humanitarian music superpower with Albarn as UN secretary-general and squinting eyes. I still don't know exactly what I experienced -- but I'd like to vote for it.
It was like blending Italo Brothers, silly Melodi Grand Prix metal and a Rammstein-light aesthetic in a Temu blender without a lid. Everything flew around, but nothing landed. I mostly stood and thought: Who is this really for?
