An exhibition for the experimental, the C2C Festival returned to Brooklyn, NY last weekend for its second-ever American showcase. On May 8, I hiked to the outskirts of Queens (Maspeth, for the locals) to visit the Knockdown Center, an early 1900s glass factory that has since been converted into New York City’s largest music venue. Galleries, courtyards, backyards, terraces, and lounges: this sprawling campus designed for ravers and music lovers has welcomed many of the coolest global artists from the underground, some of them gracing the multiple stages for C2C last Friday.
For its second year in New York, C2C welcomed an impressive and buzzy lineup. In one camp, there were what I call the 2025 heavy-hitters, or artists who released albums that appeared on several end-of-year lists, often securing the coveted no. 1 spot. This included The UK’s hardcore electronic producer aya (hexed!, no.1 on The Quietus), the trance-like microtonal guitar duo Los Thuthunaka (Los Thuthunaka, no. 1 on Pitchfork), and breakout indietronica and progressive R&B star Nourished By Time (The Passionate Ones, no. 1 on Paste).
In another, we had the well-welcomed pivots: before Avalon Emerson, electronic household name-turned-The Charm front woman, took the stage, Elias Rønnenfelt of Iceage brought his jagged and not-so-folk rock solo music to New York during his own ongoing Speak Daggers tour.
Then, Malibu and YHWH Nailgun, an ambient and post-punk fit respectively, represented the show-stopping debuts (literally, in one of their cases…more on that later!) And if the lineup with even more acts all day couldn’t be more of an indie critic’s dream, the one-night festival closed with a classic EDM rave, commanded by none other than the headliner Arca.
Beginning in Italy in 2001, C2C aimed to bring together artists representing the boundary-pushers of common genres, focusing on the idea of cross-pollination. Their programming makes a world where punk, electronic, rock, pop, R&B genres can exist in direct dialogue, allowing the enthusiastic listener running from stage to stage see the connecting motifs — experimental electronic production, ambitious career pivots, outstanding lyricism, etc. — rather than the differences between them.
The programming was as strong as it could be, given the sheer talent involved. Each set was an emotional and sonic journey of its own, forging ahead at its own pace and flaunting the quirks of its front person/people. But altogether, they offered something for everyone; a person waiting at barricade for Nourished By Time could appreciate the breezy, bubbly, sparkly electronic groove of Avalon Emerson, or the diehard Arca fans could see some shades of her chittering ambient work in Malibu or the industrial edges dialed to the max in aya. Had YHWH Nailgun fans approached the outdoor stage just before to catch Rønnenfelt, then they might have been delightfully surprised by his starkly minimal and edgy rock set. The tonal shifts between sets, furthermore, were masked by an ebb-and-flow rhythm. In other words, the hyper speed, in-your-face electronic sets were often spaced out by pop and rock, never overstimulating the attendee who wanted to last until the curtains fell at 4 am.
Flaws, however, came down to personal preference. I can acknowledge that, for experimental and avant-garde enthusiasts, we all have our limits, even if we can appreciate the innovations and intentions of the specific act. I’ll start with Los Thuthunaka, who are undoubtedly wizards at the guitar and synths, and their whole call-and-response performance style — playing at each other until they secure the electrifying trance rhythm that can hypnotize anyone in the crowd — is magical to watch. I, however, find the frogginess of their sound, which I'd describe as the flatulent guitar whammy prominent in Chocolate and Cheese by Ween set to a cumbia drum machine, too wet and gnarly for my own taste.
YHWH Nailgun also failed to deliver for me, becoming my sorest disappointment of the evening. I was looking forward to their set probably the most out of everyone there; despite all the indulgence in electronic, rock, and pop, C2C lacked in punk representation. So, as a post-punk critic and diehard enthusiast — as well as someone who found their 21-minute debut album 45 Pounds full of momentum, grit, and intelligence with its use of out-there percussion and synths — I had planned to catch the second half of their set after checking out aya, who, due to being based in the UK (as opposed to YHWH Nailgun’s local NYC status), I might have a harder chance catching on a future tour.
But, there was no second half of a YHWH Nailgun set. Or a first half, for that matter. The band, clearly upset that fans of 45 Pounds wanted LP2 to be longer, just played their upcoming record Magazine “in full,” revealing the length to be a measly eleven minutes. Normally, I’d think that would be a genius, hilarious move, a sign of remaining uncompromising on their artistic vision and rightfully weeding out people who don’t appreciate a punchy, concise album length. But, that would only work in the context of a record; live, this stunt just came off as a huge eyeroll. It’s not punk to manufacture exclusivity at a showcase, where everyone selected to perform has the chance to attract a new and open-to-challenges fan.
It’s certainly not punk to be so presumptuous about their own allure, putting on a “sucks if you missed us” posture toward people who, when faced with the ONLY truly overlapping set of the evening, chose to go see the list-topping hardcore electronic artist who doesn’t even live here first. Sure, they became the talk of the evening, but probably to only their delight, YHWH Nailgun were the subject of the loudest, expletive-heavy complaints.
Lastly, I won’t deny Arca’s talents as a DJ and producer. Her ear for mixing could be likened to a pinpoint accurate satellite, picking up micro-frequencies in unrelated sounds and gracefully weaving them together as if a traditional merengue track would naturally succeed a harsh techno banger. However, the bold choice to mostly DJ instead of promoting her own music, especially as the festival’s official headliner, could have turned off people who expected Arca the avant-pop star behind Arca and KiCk i. But, to that I say: never expect a traditional festival headliner at C2C.
Everything else at C2C was nothing short of spectacular — a true reminder that most of the exciting developments in music come from outsiders in their own genre.
Right before Arca’s 2 am DJ slot, Marcus Brown’s solo project Nourished By Time stunned the audience with his eclectic set, pouring the glaze of his honeyed R&B vocals over the snappy indietronica instrumentals. It’s easy to get lost in the majesty of a song like “9 2 5,” where one can either sigh along to the lyrics of angst against the grind of an artist’s life, or just close their eyes and sway along to the disco-synth melody. On the other side, the protest anthem “BABY BABY” forced everyone back into sync, coming together to chant back Brown’s sharp call for change. For this set in particular, the connection of the audience to the music was particularly stirring to me, with even the tallest and gruffest looking audience members belting every syllable and feeling Brown’s poetry pulse through the drum beat and the floor of the main hall.
Nourished By Time has all the best parts of the DIY spirit — the charm of a dedicated front person, soul and love for making art, the successful determination to make cheap gear sound priceless (even if one synth board doesn’t work and gets discarded), and a singular point of view expressed in the lyrics — while still delivering a flawless and clean performance.
Likewise, Avalon Emerson brought the best of pop to the main stage. Promoting her new album Written Into Changes, as well as her pivot from the renowned electronic DJ into the front woman of a live indie pop/rock band, the singer-songwriter effortlessly folded her expertise in live mixing into a danceable and refreshing live set, commanded by the 80s-esque groove of the live guitar, bass, and saxophone. Emerson thrived with subtlety; in “Eden,” the opener to her latest record, she let her introductory vocalizations ring through the air like a bell.
Then, she clicked a button, and suddenly it echoed and looped, whirling around until it became one with the rest of the music. “Jupiter and Mars” and “Written Into Changes” effectively let her vocals shimmer as she gradually morphs them into different textures and pitches with pedals and board settings. The melancholic lyrics of her music — songs about burned out love, new paths for her life forming, frustration and excitement about getting older — glide underneath her band’s warm, synth pop tone, proving Emerson can be a master of many identities.
My personal favorite performance of the evening goes to Elias Rønnenfelt. It’s a surprising choice: of the acts scheduled for C2C, he was the only one essentially outside of the umbrella genre of electronic music. That’s not to say he’s completely foreign to this world; in fact, his solo material apart from the alt rock of Iceage attaches a lot of peculiar accessories to his rock spine. As one hears in his most recent record Speak Daggers, he plays a folk rock guitar on top of a cloud rap beat, synth strings, and punk drums.
Yet, especially after seeing him perform his solo material live, I realized that he composes with austere minimalism, making him one of the most technically incomprehensible acts to watch. He can do a lot with a little; the acoustic, more easy-going lucre track “1” explodes into a prickly, punk poem with vocals that cut like glass an an acoustic guitar hooked up to enough pedals to fulfill both rhythm and lead sections. His live version of the propulsive, bruised love songs “Mona Lisa” and "USA Baby" find him spitting out the poetry in his signature jagged, raw vocals, sped up and magnified in intensity by a jangly drum beat, icy bass line, and his amped up acoustic guitar.
(A sidenote: the whole conceit of Speak Daggers is inspired. A cynical yet still sensitive relationship with US politics as an outside observer, written from the perspective of a lover watching his girlfriend suffer? That's extremely bold and creative.)
“Carry On Bag”, a one-off single already with an eclectic tempo, became an opportunity for the three-piece band (and backup vocalist) to adapt its cloud rap instrumentals into a full-body banger. When the “comeback” of indie rock is on many critics’ minds — when many find themselves drooling for texture, ambitious production, eccentric instrumental solos, and voices that could best be described as an “acquired taste” — Rønnenfelt stands on the cutting edge of it, offering a unique and brilliant point of view.
Yet, the real MVP of this year’s C2C Festival was aya. Her set wasted no time to launch into full abrasive mode. For those unfamiliar with her 2025 record hexed! — whose cover of an open mouth holding plump, flesh-colored worms and a metallic jewel that spells the title perfectly captures the energy — aya pushes club music to the hardcore extreme, one-upping the breakcore enthusiasts like Jane Remover and/or femtanyl by cranking piercing shrills, pageful shrieks, ultra-fried pulses, uber-boomed stabs. Her white noise she fills between drum ’n’ bass or techno frenzies leave no reprieve; they rattle in the brain, brush the ears from the inside like steel wool, and match the manic smile painted on aya’s face as she slithers around screaming her lungs into the microphone.
For a gentler soul, this artist could be considered overwhelming. Yet, like a wriggling worm, aya’s music is shockingly fluid. She loves a warble as much as a crash, with the song “peach” swiping through with a nu-metal rhythm, fading into a tender, melancholic, ambient-backed bridge that later folds into delicate harmonies supporting her hardcore screams. This DJ is also cognizant of pacing and flaunts immense control over each stem and sample.
Unlike anyone I’ve ever seen manning an electronic set, she’d stop between tracks, playfully bantering with the audience as if she’s making up everything as she goes along. Pretending to fumble with the buttons and program, she cuts off her music entirely, interjecting with quips before clicking something and springing back into action. She saved the best moment of the entire festival for her last song, literally rewinding “off to the ESSO,” slamming pause, and asking the audience to “try that ‘CRASH’ part again.” Crouched over the glow of her laptop she hovers over the trackpad, muttering, “Where is it…oh!” Tap. Explosion. Chaos. Fists. Bodies. Screams. Pure brilliance.
The beauty of an outsider’s festival like C2C is that it allows listeners to explore their own relationship to the freaky, the confrontational, the shocking, the sensual, the horrific. It exposes people to music that doesn’t need lyrics to evoke emotions, to beats that repulse and/or mesmerize, to songwriting that approaches one genre through a completely different one. Maybe it encourages fans to go home, find something even more bizarre, put that in dialogue with these standouts, and see if artists can push their sound even further. Or it challenges our own conceptions of a “good” song, relieving us of the conformist idea that music must be palatable and friendly to be worth something. At the end of the day, one can walk away from C2C NYC happy to see people from around the world shed their skin and indulge in play.
What do you think?
Show comments / Leave a comment