Day One

“Based on the experience so far, I’d much rather fly,” exclaims a man to his silent wife. The couple are standing in front of me in line for the passport check at St. Pancras station. He’s 50 or thereabouts, a thick American twang reverberating from his dismissive complaints. The queue slowly shuffles forward until the couple reach the front of the line, surrendering their form of identification. The staff signal to each other, sharing concerned looks over what turns out to be a systematic issue, leaving them unable to verify any passports.

I watch the man’s face turn an unhealthy shade of red, even brighter than his problematic cholesterol had previously triggered, no doubt uttering some kind of xenophobic slur to depict Europeans in the inner mechanics of his brain. Finally, after an uncomfortable few minutes, the systems are revitalised; the couple are granted access and I follow smoothly. Next stop? Groningen, by way of Rotterdam, for the esteemed music conference and festival Eurosonic Noorderslag (colloquially known as ESNS).

ESNS was first established in the late 80s as a showcase for the best rising Dutch talent. It soon began picking up continental attention – fast forward to 2024, and the entire of Europe is dedicated to the event’s ethos, which plays out as one of the most prominent showcases for talent across the globe. Across its four day run time, there are industry-led conferences throughout the day and various venues holding gigs of European artists throughout the evenings. An exciting prospect, and a great opportunity to get ahead of the curve for the next big thing, it seemed only natural to go and check out what the fuss is all about.

It’s my first time on the Eurostar and I’m very excited. A train that goes underwater? What a spectacle. It is emphatically swift – soon I’m speeding through the French countryside, onto a quick pitstop in Brussels, before arriving in Rotterdam for a changeover. The Dutch city doesn’t seem too happy to see me; I’m greeted by an icy wind that nearly knocks me sideways, and I take shelter in a mini in-station supermarket, purchasing a ginger shot and a lollipop as comfort.

Yet another patience-straining train ride ensues, until three or so hours later I arrive in my temporary home of Groningen. Immediately the quaint nature of the city is evident. Charming canals run alongside the roads. A white tapestry of snow covers the ground. Bikes are more regular than pedestrians.

Following an inevitable hiccup acquiring my festival wristband – all of my own doing, of course – I head to my hotel for a quick refresher before endeavouring onto an introductory Icelandic reception, which is one of the focus countries for this year’s event.

It’s a pleasant affair; I’m introduced to some of the press party, and enjoy a few complimentary negronis (excellently orangey). (De)Hydrated and merry, I follow the crowds to Stadsschouwburg. A grand, welcoming venue, its theatrical aesthetic and grandiose architecture an ideal location for the wealth of musical excellence that follows. Shame they can’t pour a pint – foam on the label – which seems to be a running theme in The Netherlands.

First brought to my attention is Clarrisa Connolly. A Danish singer-songwriter who celebrates traditionalism and experimentation respectively, Connolly’s folk-tinged sound is eerie and engulfing, from its atmospheric acapella inception to rousing full band finale, the set is captivating and visceral, and I find myself unable to peel my eyes away from the performance.

The mood changes quite drastically for the next act, CMAT. An Irish artist (and now BRIT Award nominee) with a towering love of country, she arrives hotly tipped by members of the press party. She lives up to the hype; the band are tight, hungry and groove-inducing, whilst CMAT’s charisma consistently shines through, whether through her vocal performance and delivery, or her engaging crowd control. Anthemic, articulate and achingly good fun.

Day Two

Sunrise arrives, and with it a wild goose chase. My flawed packing ability once again rears its ugly head – I have forgotten a European adapter (I’ve somehow managed to do so on every European odyssey I’ve undertaken to date and now own eight and counting). Finding a shop that sells them turns into a panic-inducing struggle, until finally an hour or so – and one embarrassing fall onto the snowy ground – later, I acquire my prize.

Charged, electronically if not mentally, I wander over to the media centre for a quick chat with one of the most buzz-worthy of all the 250+ acts booked to play: yuné pinku. The Irish-Malaysian, London-based producer, DJ and songwriter has swiftly risen through the ranks, and is amongst the most renowned emerging artists currently plying their trade in the English capital.

Sipping from a complimentary (I hope, or else stolen) apple juice, I enquire on the quality of her day so far. “Pretty good, a little bit chaotic. Just back to back stuff,” she replies, putting my sole task of finding an electronics store into perspective. Her busy day is reflective of the gut-busting pace of her 2023. “It was probably the most intense year I’ve ever had. I went to a lot of countries, did a lot of shows. So yeah, pretty sleep deprived.”

Last year was drenched in achievements for pinku. She supported Biig Piig’s Irish tour (labelling her Cork homecoming show as the most special of her career to date), and released her flawless six-pronged EP, “BABYLON IX”. The project is perhaps the moment that the artist truly found her sonic identity, blending noteworthy contemporary pop with deft, diverse production, seamlessly merging garage, DnB and jungle sensibilities.

“I kinda wish that it was more intentional so it looks like I planned it all out,” she says laughing, describing the genesis of her musical vision. “But it just naturally happened. I think there’s a lot of unintentional dynamics with all my stuff.”

Her ability to manipulate genre stems from a childhood bursting with counteracting influences. “Growing up, there was a lot of music around, a lot of instruments but I just didn’t play them,” she laughs. “My mum was always playing loads of different kinds of music – from Madonna to trance – so I feel like my knowledge of genres has always been quite broad.”

However it was spawned, her musical style has gotten the industry talking. In the hours following our conversation, she will be performing in one of Groningen’s esteemed venues in a slot of significance. Before that though, she will be attending the MME (Music Moves Europe) Awards. Established to recognise artists who’ve achieved success outside of their nation in the past year, pinku is nominated for this edition’s coveted prize. “It feels pretty surreal to be nominated,” she says, slightly flustered. “It feels so professional. My whole family are very gassed that I’m representing Ireland.”

So, with her first award nomination in the bag and plenty of hype surrounding her name, what’s next? “I’m working on a project right now. It’s coming along, really slowly. It’s a bit of a step in a different direction. Experimenting with genre more, with acoustic and electronic sounds coming together.”

She smiles warmly before being whisked off towards her next in a long line of press interviews. I finish my juice, button up my coat and stroll out into the afternoon with a resounding thought: however busy 2023 was for yuné pinku, 2024 is going to be considerably more so.

As the sun sets amidst the cloudy Dutch sky, I make my way to the MME Awards, to watch my new acquaintance take home the prize for Ireland, alongside other winners Ralphie Choo (Spain), freekind. (Slovenia), Giift (Denmark), and Bulgarian Cartrader (Bulgaria) and Zaho de Sagazan (France).

Following the lively award ceremony, I dedicate myself to some music. Adverse weather conditions and lengthy queues taint my enthusiasm, but I soon rediscover my zest when in the presence of sonic decadence.

I’m admitted into MAAS just in time to catch Amsterdam three-piece Pip Boom. The dynamic trio impress, blending an array of guitar-leaning influences from grunge to britpop, finding themselves in good stead to play a role in the indie revival that is teetering just below the mainstream. Next, it’s the name on everyone in UK jazz’s lips, Elmiene, who illustrates why he appeared on so many ‘artists to watch’ lists for 2024 with a stunning and immersive performance.

The final set of the night that I catch is that of MME-Award winner yuné pinku. Blistering in her production, she shines brightest in the packed-out concert hall, innovative in her approach to performance, looking as if she’s being doing it all of her life and will do so for the remainder of her days.

Day Three

Morning comes, and with it another opportunity to be late. This time, it’s to meet the good people of FOCUS Wales, the Wrexham-based organisation who tell me all about their mission to put Wales on the map through their yearly music (2024 sees Spiritualized headlining, flex) and film festival. Then it’s time for a modest amount of sightseeing (not too sure what sights I was seeing, but they were pretty all the same), followed by another meet up, this time with an Estonian artist.

Kitty Florentine and her manager greet me with friendly candour. We talk about the unbearable cold of their home nation (putting the current frosty temperature I’ve been moaning about in perspective), the impact of the Russia-Ukraine conflict and the unsettling uncertainty that comes with living in an ex-Soviet Union state. As well as, of course, her music.

Florentine’s sound is distinctive, at times challenging and at times cerebral. She’s played in a variety of different countries, has shown impressive artist progression, and generally is a cool cat. Worth a listen, go on!

I run into another friend from my past European expeditions: Mason from Kafe Raves taps my shoulder, much to my delight. The producer/DJ a regular attendee, and is doing a series of talks the following day on a variety of topics, such as mental health in music. Sadly, I can’t make them due to train times, but we catch up and wish each other well until next time.

Evening approaches, and it’s time to head to a showcase from the Valleys. Heading to the fantastically named Blokes Bar, I see three Welsh bands back-to-back. First up is the ska-psychedelia-pop-funk hybrid six piece Melin Melyn, who impressive with their eclectic, erratic and engrossing Super Furry Animals-esque sound. They are followed up by Chroma, a brazen metal-punk three piece who have great energy but are severely lacking a bassist. The final band, The Royston Club are sensationally crowd-pleasing, with simple but superb indie-rock anthems.

Next, I hit Grand Theatre to see the superb Lisbon singer-songwriter Maro, who plucks from a plethora of styles and bundles them up brilliantly within her dazzling vocals. Next it’s MAAS for English Teacher, the British band who tear the roof off with the memorable indie-electronic hits that tie emotion and effervescence together effortlessly.

Later on in the night, I find myself in the company of another artist who has made a lot of noise in the UK scene throughout the past few years – Master Peace. From his early indie-pop hits to a more punk-leaning progression, I now find Peace in his riotous era. He gets the crowd going in a way no one else I’ve seen over the past few days has with a sexy, attitude-laden and imperfect set. Kudos!

Day Four

After an accidental late checkout from the hotel, I twiddle my thumbs for a few hours before embarking on another tempestuous day of travel. The lengthy journey gives ample time for introspection: the sheer scale and diversity of ESNS is brilliant. The musical breadth is arguably unparalleled, and the opportunity for discovery is bountiful.

I found new gems, was reintroduced to some familiar names, and made it out with all my possessions intact. Successful trip, if you ask me.