Outside, raindrops, yellowing leaves and corn fields signal the end of the festival season. But that’s not the vibe you get inside the train to Tilburg. It’s jam-packed with music lovers, easily recognised by their Gorpcore outfits or glitter make-up. The chatter is enthusiastic and multilingual: Draaimolen, a two-day festival in the south of the Netherlands, lures audiences from all around.
Travellers pass beers around and almost everyone has a bike. In fact, there are so many bikes on this train that the real organisational hero of this story might be the conductor, who ensures everyone’s well-being with inspiring empathy. “I don’t want to reject anyone,” she says as two more festival-goers wiggle their bikes into an already gargantuan pile of pedals: “But please take care of yourself and those around you.” It’s sage advice, for the train and the festival ground.
Draaimolen takes place in the Mob-complex, originally used as military ammunition storage, but repurposed into an event location. This works out great, as the area is outdoorsy and versatile—filled with spruce trees, ferns, moss and dunes—but without the ecological toll that outdoor festivals usually take on their surroundings. “United in the forest,” Draaimolen’s wristband says. Indeed, the festival weaves together the natural world, experiential stage design, and exciting music. It’s mostly known for its surprising back-to-backs and artist-hosted stages. KI/KI, for example, is responsible for the festival’s main stage. “It was an interesting journey, merging my sound and that of Draaimolen,” she elaborated in a previous interview. “We booked acts I never thought of booking, and other acts the festival never thought of booking. But together, they make perfect sense.” Artists like her don’t just guide the line-up and programming, but lighting, sound, and stage design too.
Take the aptly named Forest Rave stage, for example. It’s hosted by Octo Octa and Eris Drew, who took a trip to the hardware store for bricks and other supplies just a few hours earlier. They did some digging and shovelling for the stage’s final touches. “We’re happy to do it,” Octo Octa laughs during a quick catch-up, explaining they both wanted the outdoor environment to be perfect for playing records (and dancing to them), which can be susceptible to nature’s elements.
In the early evening, the sound system blasts vocal-rich, irresistibly-danceable house, courtesy of DJ Paulette and ISAbella (a typical example of the festival’s atypical B2Bs). The rest of the stage’s line-up is equally ecstatic, melodic and playful. Friday night is closed off by Eris Drew, who plays a deep, swaying set as the audience blissfully sways along, amongst the mossy trees, occasionally tripping over a fallen branch (or on some mushrooms). The Forest Rave encourages dancers to interact with nature. Unlike most dance floors, the ground is uneven and wobbly with roots. Behind the DJ booth, iridescent mesh panels float in the wind. Trunks and bushes toy with the acoustics, creating a different sound experience depending on where you dance. Sometimes, you have to hug a tree to keep your balance. Front left by the speakers, two birches grew their branches together, in a phenomenon known as inosculation…
But let’s move from ecology to history, aka the Tunnel stage (which isn’t technically a tunnel, but a long narrow path lined by spruces with a strip of light suspended atop). Here, Mike Banks and Mark Flash from Underground Resistance perform a melodic, intriguing live show called Depth of Charge. UR is a Detroit-based techno collective founded in 1989, which helped spark a movement both musically and socially. This review doesn’t have enough words to dive into Underground Resistance’s significance. But if you’re interested in the history of techno, look them up.
KI/KI already teased that the name of her stage, Str/Obe, could be taken literally. It’s vast (the festival’s main stage) and the only stage with a wooden dance floor. It also has a scaffold-like installation, allowing the audience to dance around the DJ and admire their work from behind the decks. And, of course, there are so many strobe lights! As the night ends, KI/KI and SPFDJ play loud, fast and nearly Gabber-ish. KI/KI drops her own Don’t Stop, and the crowd goes crazy before it’s time to stop, at least for the night.
On Saturday, it’s sunny and the day’s commute consists of a recreational bike ride, alongside the Amsterdam-Rhine Canal and past sheep-filled paddocks. This makes the day feel much more relaxed. Musically, it’s a good moment to start at the Aura stage, hosted by the Dutch music label Nous’Klaer. This stage is a small field surrounded by spruce trees, smoke machines and colourful light boxes. Mama Snake and Martinou warm up the already sun-drenched dance floor with hip-swaying beats and melodic plingy-plongy-ness (sure, that’s an official term). The only downside is the Dutch disease, which infected many of yesterday’s stages too. It’s the audience’s tendency to talk through concerts and musical performances, which, at Draaimolen, turns many great sets into background music for other people’s conversations. To be fair, the conversations aren’t just in Dutch (some of Draaimolen’s international guests chat away as well). But it’s a buzz kill.
Luckily, back at the Forest Rave, Dee Diggs brightens moods and moves feet with a glorious selection of house and disco tracks. Turn the Beat Around fills the air and sun rays filter through a deck of leaves. If you dance close to the speakers (while wearing hearing protection!) the music’s joy is all-consuming. In the Pit, the Dutch disease doesn’t seem to exist at all. Hosted by Blawan and Pariah, the pit is, quite literally, a big pit dug into the sand. And it’s a vibe! The sound quality is solid, but the ‘frill-lessness’ makes this stage great. All you can do is dance. Of course, dancing is greatly encouraged by Rosa Pistola and Shannen SP, who drop booty-shaking beats, Amapiano, reggaeton and more. The energy is sexy and femme. The music creates a space where surrounding strangers become your dancing partner. Even the stage manager is loving it! A woman in a pleated skirt twerks impressively, and it all hits peak hotness when Rosa Pistola drops the beats of Sweet Dreams, with sex moans layered atop. Now, this is a party.
Meanwhile, on the Str/Obe stage, KI/KI performs her live set, which is more deep and cinematic than her usual style, complete with a sensational light show. Musically and visually, it’s great—it takes you on a journey. But here too, the audience seems more concerned with catching the whole thing on video than enjoying the moment. Perhaps, that’s the risk with a festival as big and multi-layered as Draaimolen. You have spaces, like the Forest Rave or the Pit, that get to the root of the outdoor festival experience. It’s muddy, mossy and all about the music. Dirty shoes, scraped knees and empty Instagram feeds be damned! Draaimolen takes it a step further: aesthetic art installations, a wine bar, attention-grabbing light shows, international headliners that don’t usually make it to the Netherlands (and if they do, perform exclusively in Amsterdam), a hidden stage with a Space Age-like 3D printed sound system, a strategically-placed mirror that seems to function as a selfie spot…
Of course, these are all good things, and it’s nice to have sandy paths to choose from. Still, one can’t help but wonder: should all these experiences be united in the forest? The great outdoors is… great. But a festival of this size might benefit from a few indoor stages to create physical and acoustic boundaries. Closed-off tents, hangars, or other dividers could encourage the audience to fully immerse in their chosen experience.
Nevertheless, let’s enjoy the great outdoors while we’re there. How many synonyms do you know for the woods? Because, over at the Forest Rave, Octo Octa and Tim Reaper play a back-to-back set that’s giving jungle at the forest. The two make a great combo. Octo Octa is known for her groovy and ecstatic house, Tim Reaper as a true junglist. Here, you can listen to rapid breakbeats while dancing on broken twigs. It’s loud, fast and strong. Sparkly lights dot the sky. That’s good because, not much later, it’s time to bike home through the dark forest (the actual one, not the stage), lit only by the moon and sound-tracked by a choir of crickets
