Delayed x Perpendicular: Vinna Våldyr
Morning sets at Perpendicular have a peculiar gravity. They pull you back from the cosmic edge of the night without quite letting you land. After 037’s slow ignition, Vinna Våldyr took that half-awake crowd and stretched time into something soft yet edgy, cinematic yet tactile. Pads hung like fog over the valley, while pianos and sax sequences drifted through, slightly detuned, as if remembering themselves in real time. The rhythm came and went in gentle tides, dub-laden and patient, never in a rush to declare where it was headed. It was music that trusted silence yet always hinted at motion beneath the surface.
We first entered Vinna’s world through his Simbiosis Festival recording from Seville, a set that felt like discovering a hidden portal in daylight. Hearing him at Perpendicular this year confirmed it: his control of energy is uncanny, like someone painting with both watercolor and graphite at once. The sun filtered through the trees, its pine-scented air wrapping the floor in calm. People swayed or lay still, hammocks swinging at the sides, and the line between listening and dreaming disappeared. It’s rare to find a DJ who can massage your neurons and still make them spark, but Vinna does both with ease.