Flow Festival Helsinki radiates positivity

I used to see the three big Nordic festivals that take place over the same week in August as more or less interchangeable, since, in any given year, many of the same artists will play each one. But, having now completed the trilogy, I’ll admit I was wrong.

Flow, especially, is an interesting outlier. Unlike the leafy green park settings of Way Out West in Gothenburg and Øya in Oslo, the Helsinki event takes place in the concrete landscape of the city’s Suvilahti district, in the grounds of a disused red-brick power station. Here, the late summer wind whips up tiny dust devils, empty gasometers are transformed into exciting multi-purpose spaces, and the sound reverberates invisibly from surrounding office buildings and apartment blocks that overlook the Helsinki archipelago beyond the festival grounds.

Another thing that sets Flow apart is that, unlike the after-hours programmes Stay Out West and Øya Nights, the action remains centralised at Suvilahti, all day and night. A small thing, you might think, but it does make for a more exciting festival experience. It could be a little on the nose to say, but Flow’s defining quality might actually be circulation. The way that people are able to move around the site feels specially designed to amplify organic discovery. Several times I was diverted from my planned-out schedule in the Flow app by something chaotic and wonderful going on in areas I hadn’t meant to visit, and could easily have happened dozens of times more if I wasn’t so determined to get where I was going.

There’s something kind of beautiful about not having just one stage for the dance music crowd, but three of them, all connected by passages and stairwells that feel like little Easter eggs once discovered. Equally beautiful, if a little risky in terms of sound bleed, is having a dedicated indoor space for more experimental, out-there music tucked between these stages, accessible only through a neon green-lit cocktail bar that neighbours a gallery showing photographs by revered subculture documentarian Jouko Lehtola.

Most beautiful of all, though, has to be the now-iconic Balloon 360 stage, which has been part of the Flow vernacular for the past ten years. The clue to its wonder lies in its name: yes, this really is a place where artists perform in-the-round beneath a giant inflated balloon, and, yes, it really is as cool as it sounds. Especially after dark, when the balloon becomes a spectacle of changing colours.

It's at Balloon 360 that my Flow experience begins, in the company of Nabihah Iqbal and her band. It’s the London-based artist’s first time in Finland and she’s visibly thrilled by the number of people who have hurried into the stands to see her. Heard live, Iqbal’s songs seem to shed a layer of remove, letting the cloak of electronics fall mostly away in favour of more prominent guitar lines that shift the emphasis to dream-pop jewel tones and shoegazey noise. Played on a polka dot electric guitar, her covers of Deftones’ “Be Quiet & Drive (Far Away)” and The Cure’s “A Forest” sound somehow both pillowy and immense in the late afternoon light, while her own “This World Couldn’t See Us” serves up an ‘80s post-punk cherry on top.

Next to grace the Balloon 360 stage is Arooj Aftab – “Two Pakistanis in a row?” quips Iqbal, “Love it!” – and she wastes no time in setting a contrasting mood of reverence (the songs) and irreverence (her trademark deadpan humour, with wine glass in hand). Aftab has only grown more and more compelling in the three years since breaking through with the stunning Vulture Prince, and her recent album Night Reign is proof of that triumph. She plays several songs from it here as the light begins to soften, with “Raat Ki Rani” sounding especially robust, clothed in clattering percussion. Introducing the beguiling ballad “Whiskey”, she jokes(?) that her lawyer has told her she shouldn’t talk about alcohol so much on stage. “Why? I don’t have a problem,” she says, taking another sip of red. Later, she invites people to dance on stage to closing number “Bolo Na”. “Just don’t try to dance with me,” she cautions. “I’m really awkward.”

Flow’s generous provision for underground club culture is just one of the reasons why the crowd here feels refreshingly progressive. The festival’s commitment to being a safe space for all means that everyone is free to express themselves however they choose, and they do. The fashion is eye-popping and riotously fun, befitting Helsinki’s growing status as a hub for cutting-edge design and creativity. Queer visibility is high, and it’s wonderful to see.

Of course, it helps that this 20th anniversary edition of Flow features some certified megawatt popstars. On the opening day, staunch LBGTQ+ ally RAYE and bi pop chameleon Halsey bring the queer community out to the main stage in force, while, over in the Silver Arena, non-binary icon Janelle Monáe delivers a masterclass in stylish, conceptual pop performance. Whereas Halsey comes across as uncomfortably confrontational with the audience, and even a little unlikeable at times, Monáe keeps everything buttery smooth. When some of the singalong moments don’t quite work on first try, she simply gives chance after chance to do it better without even arching an eyebrow.

At only 26 years old, RAYE isn’t quite there yet in terms of professionalism, though that’s honestly part of her charm. She spends a little too much of her hour-long slot chatting away, and her apparently unplanned setlist is a bit all over the place, but there’s no denying the star power of that voice. She’s a little too in thrall to outdated ideas of glitz and glamour for my tastes, but it’s not all just for show. Her knockout cover of James Brown’s “It’s A Man’s Man’s Man’s World” feels like something she was born to sing.

I’m not sure the same can be said for Jessie Ware’s Sunday evening take on Cher’s “Believe”. It’s a crowd-pleaser, sure, but feels surplus to requirements in an already high-camp show set in an imagined Studio 54-alike disco spot, The Pearl. Still, it’s the only question mark that arises as Ware and her Pearlettes lay down sparkling hit after sparkling hit, from the first bars of “That! Feels Good” to the rousing finale of “Free Yourself”. It’s been a decade since she last performed at Flow and her transformation into disco maximalist has served her well, but Ware is canny enough to know that The Pearl is probably as far as she can ride that particular wave. I wouldn’t be surprised to see her change things up completely after wrapping this album cycle, and recent single “Lift You Up” – a club-minded collab with longtime friend Romy – offers a tantalising look into where she might be headed.

At Flow, positivity comes in all shapes and guises, from the glowing amber-hearted bromance of serpentwithfeet’s Balloon 360 love-in – he even hands out roses to the crowd – to the escapist hedonism of Helena Hauff’s storming Sunday night DJ set at the Resident Advisor Front Yard. Saturday’s main stage headliner Fred again.. is rightly crowned king of this year’s Flow with the largest crowd of the festival, and it’s not even close. The London-born electronic artist and producer spent some time in Finland as a kid, and if the Finns hadn’t already adopted him as one of their own before this set, they certainly had by the time it was over. Indulging his showman side, there’s a moment where he runs out into the crowd only to rise above it on a hydraulic platform that appears from nowhere behind the sound desk. The roar is deafening.

For those who want to continue the party, Berlin queer club Herrensauna stage a raucous takeover of the X Garden stage, while over in the Black Tent, zeitgeisty Scottish artist/producer Barry Can’t Swim brings his Mercury-nominated debut album When Will We Land? to life. Craving something different, I headed to the Silver Arena instead to watch Norwegian star Aurora put her own quixotic spin on the positivity principle, scaling up the whimsy for the benefit of all the “warriors and weirdos” in the crowd.

Living up to the Latin meaning of her name, her visually impressive performance turns Saturday midnight into an alternative dawn, where the good fight is always fought in the name of all marginalised people and the wounded earth itself. It’s not always pretty, seesawing between light and very dark. Aurora’s idiosyncrasies aren’t for anyone even remotely cynical, but she ends with a message of empowerment and hope. Be yourself, but be brave with it. Stand for something. We all have a place in this world, and “soft hearts need protection.”

The provocative Harvey of old has not been sidelined completely, mind. She comes out blazing when the cloak comes off halfway through the set, ripping into the blackly humorous “50ft Queenie” like a woman deranged, and later demolishes the alpha-minded “Man-Size” and prowls through the classic “Dress” as if no time has passed at all. It’s a joy to hear the gleaming “Black Hearted Love” again, though it comes as a shock to realise that A Woman A Man Walked By is already somehow 15 years old. Unexpected highlight “The Garden” – a slow-burner from 1998’s Is This Desire? – sounds brilliantly sinister, but it’s the closing duo of “Down by the Water” and “To Bring You My Love” that gets the biggest roars of the night. Even Harvey has to break character to bathe in the applause, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. And then, with heartfelt thanks, she’s gone.

Of course, Flow’s importance to the Helsinki cultural calendar doesn’t rest solely on imported acts. Finland may not have the same global reputation as neighbouring Sweden when it comes to crafting indelible pop songs, but institutions like Flow and Music Finland are putting in the work to change that – and the evidence suggests that their faith is well founded. If you’re into mainstream pop with bite and personality, Flow regular Vesta more than delivers with sharp songwriting and humour. Songs like “Fakin Rockstarr” and “Juttele mulle” are attention grabbing, and just off-kilter enough to hold it. Former Harry Styles video extra Joalin offers something softer, gliding breathily between English and Spanish over contemporary Latin-flavoured pop and R&B. It’s been a bumpy road for the Finnish star, who was first signed to former Spice Girls manager Simon Fuller’s 18-person crew Now United, but now she’s doing things on her own terms, or at least that’s how it seems. “Don’t give up on your dreams,” are her last words to the crowd, and she can be happy with a job well done.

Having emerged as a leading figure in Finnish-language club music, Malla’s set in the Black Tent was packed out as she debuted tracks from her forthcoming third album with a special guest-starring spectacle of sound and vision, but it’s trans artist Knife Girl who steals my heart. Inspired by the likes of SOPHIE and A.G. Cook, 23-year-old Lili Aslo’s second Knife Girl album, CUM, is a mishmash of hyperpop and bedroom techno, heavy on melody and an outsized sense of humour. Performing from behind a table full of stuffed animals, Aslo’s aesthetic could be mistaken for a gimmick, but I suspect there’s a deeper comment being made here about transness. And even if there isn’t, who cares? Knife Girl just wants to have fun.

Finland is also well represented at Flow in the realms of experimental music and world-class jazz. At the Balloon 360 stage, jazz trumpeter Verneri Pohjola leads a red-hot ensemble through his new album Monkey Mind, with a sizzling guest appearance by Finland-born, Sweden-raised saxophonist Linda Fredriksson. Tinyhawk & Bizzarro are another revelation. Inspired by Saharan desert blues, Japanese instrumental rock, Ennio Morricone film scores and more, the instrumental quartet led by guitarist Jenni Kinnunen (Tinyhawk) is blissfully uplifting – a perfect soundtrack for brightening skies after a very wet morning.

Finnish rap group SMC seem fun, though what exactly they’re on about gets lost in (un)translation. The same goes for long-running party crew Gasellit, though they get bonus points for bringing along their own petrol station as a stage prop. If, as the World Happiness Report has concluded seven years in a row now, Finland really is the land of least dissatisfaction, I think the Finns’ ability to not take themselves too seriously has to count for a lot.

A few times over the festival period I get a sense that some enterprising Finns wish that Helsinki was perceived as more like other Nordic capitals – more of a design destination like Stockholm, or more of a foodie’s playground like Copenhagen – and that’s fair. For all its many plusses, Helsinki doesn’t seem to get the credit it deserves. But there’s more to life than putative ‘lifestyle’, and part of what makes Flow so refreshing is that its growth over the last 20 years doesn’t seem to have come at the expense of its integrity. I’m sure some Finns who’ve been there from the start might disagree, but as a first-timer I’m genuinely impressed. From the most mainstream pyrotechnic pop to hedonistic subcultures and far-out experimental sound art, Flow holds space for it all. Forgive me for ever thinking otherwise. I’ve rarely been as happy to be wrong.