Beneath the canopy of Tilburg’s MOB Complex, Draaimolen awakens once more, a gathering where sound bends and breathes with the forest. Independent at heart, it invites artists to weave together unheard dialogues of music, dissolving boundaries between the electronic and the organic. Each set becomes a conversation, each moment a fleeting experiment. Among the trees, the familiar dissolves, and something unnameable takes form.
Photo credit: Draaimolen – Official
The rain clouds drifted apart and the sun broke through—Friday, the first day of Draaimolen. Our journey began backstage, where we were welcomed by the production team. Hospitality here felt more like home than industry: a roaring fire crackling against the cool air, soft sofas inviting us to sink in, and ice-cold drinks waiting at hand. It was, without doubt, one of the most thoughtful and inviting backstage experiences we’ve encountered.
Our first stop was the forest rave to catch Ophélie. There’s something special about an opening set—the way it sets the tone, carves the first steps of the journey, and awakens the crowd from stillness into movement. Ophélie’s performance was second to none: precise yet fluid, heavy with low-end textures that seemed to seep through the trees, pulling the forest itself into rhythm. It wasn’t just an introduction to the day, but an invocation—an opening chapter written in sound.
We then slipped into The Pit for Upsammy’s set—a space carved deep into the forest, shaped by Blawan and Pariah’s vision, where 25 hours of genre-bending music pulse from every angle. Upsammy is no stranger to Draaimolen—she’s returned this year solo, offering a sound that’s as singular as the crater-like dance floor itself. In this amphitheater of earth and echo, her set felt like a ceremony of textures. The crowd was drawn inward by bass and curiosity. Every drop and swell of her rhythm seemed magnified by the Pit’s natural architecture, where sound didn’t just fill space; it sculpted it.
We managed to catch the last half of DJ Storm’s set. A true pioneer and towering figure in drum and bass, she commanded the decks with effortless authority. Her mixing was razor-sharp, her selections deep and uncompromising, reminding everyone why her legacy remains untouchable.
As Friday wound down, the first day of Draaimolen unfolded across three unforgettable stages. In The Pit, Blawan’s set bristled with industrial samples—rough edges planted in the mix, jolting the crowd with each raw, unexpected pulse. Above it all, the Pit’s iconic UFO hovered and drifted across the arena, its beam of light cutting through the smoke like a searchlight from another world. Together, the raw force of Blawan’s sound and the UFO’s eerie, cinematic movements created an atmosphere that was both alien and primal—a dance floor transformed into a scene of otherworldly spectacle.
At The Tunnel, framed by its long stretch of arches cutting through the forest, Voices From The Lake x Sandwell District delivered a rare live collaboration written specifically for this space. What began with deep, shadowed atmospheres slowly gathered force, rising into rolling, energetic techno—like a story unfolding with every movement.
At Aura, Batu commanded the mighty Sinai Sound System, its renowned low-end power a perfect match for his sound. Flowing between dub, bass, and dubstep, he delivered a set that was as heavy as it was hypnotic. Each drop rippled outward like a shockwave, the system’s clarity turning low frequencies into a full-body experience.
The Beginning Of Something Greater
As the final notes faded into the forest, Friday closed not with silence but with resonance. Draaimolen’s first day felt less like a schedule of sets and more like a current flowing through the woods—shifting, swelling, and carrying us forward. The night left behind a hum, a pulse in the trees, a promise of what was still to come.
Saturday didn’t feel like a restart but a continuation. By the time we arrived, the forest was already alive, the energy from Friday rolling into the day. Our first stop was backstage, where we chatted with some of the lighting engineers. They were buzzing with pride over the design for each stage—details that weren’t just functional but deeply considered.
Then we headed to Aura to catch LB Dub Corp b2b Martyn. Their performance felt like a lesson in the evolution of bass culture. From groovy dub rhythms to cavernous textures, the set moved with purpose, blending artificial and organic in seamless dialogue.
Staying at Aura, we witnessed Peverelist b2b Pinch—a rare reunion of two foundational figures in the Bristol bass scene. Their set was a masterclass in weight and rhythm, a reminder that bass isn’t just heard but remembered and reinterpreted with every drop.
From there, we moved to Moon for Nathan Fake (Live). The stage, a vast sandpit crowned with a mirrored cylinder, amplified the shimmering synths and hypnotic rhythms of his set. When he played ‘The Sky Was Pink’, the crowd was united in a moment of pure collective memory.
Later, Mr. G (Live) rolled out raw house grooves with his signature swing. The highlight came with ‘Transient’, which lit the floor with instant cheers.
In The Pit, Ben UFO b2b Pariah explored broken rhythms and deep techno with a spontaneous flow, while at Aura, CCL b2b Yushh harnessed the Sinai Sound System for a playful yet fierce exploration of bass-heavy tempos.
We closed the night at The Tunnel with Spekki Webu b2b Takaaki Itoh. What followed was the most intense techno set we’ve experienced: trippy layers fused with raw drive, lights and smoke amplifying every moment. It was not just a closing set but a reckoning—time collapsing into pure sound.
And with that, Draaimolen drew to a close. Two days in the forest that felt outside of time: Friday’s warmth and discovery flowing into Saturday’s intensity and culmination. Draaimolen isn’t just another festival—it’s an ecosystem, a living organism where music, space, and community breathe together.
This year carried extra weight too. With uncertainty around the festival’s future at its beloved forest home, there’s a chance this chapter may not return in the same way. If that proves true, it only makes this edition more unforgettable—a rare gathering where place, people, and music aligned perfectly, and where every moment felt fleeting yet timeless.
