Saturday: The Rain Came Down, But We Were Already Up (& Dancing)
It wouldn’t be the start of Irish festival season without a little downpour to baptise us back into the fields and sure enough, Forbidden Fruit 2025 opened under a grey sky and the promise of a soggy trainer or two. But as is tradition, the clouds were no match for the music (and a few overpriced pints of Guinness at €7.75 a pop, which we’ll grumble about but still queue for with alarming efficiency). Besides, it’s still cheaper than a pint in The Temple Bar, so we count our blessings where we can.
The first few drops had barely settled before the festival’s smaller tents became makeshift sanctuaries, and there was no better way to kick off than with Dublin wordsmith FYNCH over at Someplace Else. His set was pure craic – smart bars, loose freestyles, and a surprise cover or two, all delivered with the kind of balance that makes you forget you’re standing in wet socks. The sun started to come out and any care of how we looked while dancing vanished.
From there, we dashed over to the Undergrowth stage, where Sarah Crean was in her element. A few years ago, she joked, she played to no one on the far side of the site – today, she had a small crowd hanging on every note. Her voice, part celestial indie whisper, part emotional powerhouse, soared through tracks like ‘Nosebleeds’ with cinematic intensity. There were covers, too, but it was her originals – raw, spacey, occasionally angry in a very “25-year-old-woman-who’s-seen-some-shit” kind of way – that hit hardest.
Across the way, Ahmed, With Love. was easing us into afternoon euphoria with a set that felt both chill and celebratory. His wordplay is razor sharp, his energy infectious – and let’s not forget the water gun bit, which gave the whole set the vibe of a back garden party with your funniest mate on the aux. The song ‘Joker’ was the standout, a proper bop that got people swaying and smiling, the sort of moment that reminds you why Irish hip-hop is in such rude health right now.
Not long after, catching the tail end of Bold Love on the RTÉ 2FM Rising Stage – just one song, but enough to know these six are the real deal. Lounge rock with teeth, all harmony and grit, and the crowd was well into it. One to catch in full next time, for sure.
Next, it was over to the main stage for the first real surge of the day, where Bricknasty brought an absolutely electric vibe. Their fusion of jazz, hip-hop, R&B and whatever else they feel like pulling in just works. The band shouted “Free Kneecap” to a chorus of agreement, and from then on, it was like the crowd clicked into a single rhythm. Their genre-bending music collided with the live instrumental chaos of a proper street party – exactly the kind of live energy that makes you glad to be alive and drying off on a summer day in Dublin.
And if you wanted more spit and spark, Celaviedmai was just around the corner with a sexy, swaggering performance that reaffirmed her place at the forefront of Irish hip-hop. Her transition into dance and hip-house territory is the stuff of legend. With a live band backing her punchy delivery, she easily dominated the RTÉ Rising Stage. A midday set never sounded so commanding.
Not far off, French DJ LB aka LABAT was turning the Lighthouse Stage into an Ibiza fantasy. The sun had finally started to peek through, the bass was deep, the vibe was loose. It felt like we’d wandered into a parallel universe where Dublin has a beach and everyone’s dressed for a Boiler Room set. Honestly? Bliss.
That mood continued over at the main stage with Glass Beams, who transported us somewhere between Melbourne, Mumbai and the Egyptian afterlife. Their golden masks glinted in the now-glorious light, sage burned in the air, and the music – funky, psychedelic instrumental rock – absolutely floored us. It was part surf, part space, part sacred ritual, and somehow perfect for a Saturday in Kilmainham.
As the evening settled in, Caribou turned the dial up with a live set that felt both huge and intimate, full of little sonic surprises. Multiple synths, a drummer, two drummers – as Dan Snaith switched modes throughout the set – at one point (!). It was a rare treat to get this kind of set from a Canadian electronic group on an Irish stage. As Can’t Do Without You rippled through the crowd, people of all ages and fashion sense – ’90s windbreakers, glitter, cheetah print and cowboy hats – danced like they’d waited all winter for this. And they had.
And then, the man himself, Jamie xx. What is there to say about a Jamie xx set that doesn’t sound like a eulogy for your soul? It started slow, ambient, almost polite and then, like all great DJs, he found the frequency that hits right below your ribs and shook the bad thoughts out of everyone. A true genius in the way he built the set. The visuals zoomed in on euphoric faces, with three dancers sent out into the crowd to repeatedly get the camera’s attention balanced with an expert light show, a thousand moments stitched together into something overwhelming and cathartic. This wasn’t just a headliner slot, it was a full-body reset. Jamie doesn’t just play tunes – he baptises you in bass and builds you back up.
As the lights dimmed and the final beat dropped, we stood in the fading warmth of the day, having watched the sunset whilst Jamie xx played the sun down, still a bit giddy. The overpriced pints had gone down smoother than expected. Our shoulders were lighter, day one of the festival was dusted and people headed off either into afters or their beds but either way, we had a whole second day ahead of us.
Sunday: Chaos, Catharsis, and the Power of a Good Drop
Sunday at Forbidden Fruit wasn’t just a collection of sets – it felt like a slow-building wave, starting in scattered sparks and ending in full-blown euphoria. The kind of day where the sun burns your nose and your knees go weak, not from exhaustion, but from too many basslines hitting just right.
It kicked off in the energetic embrace of the Someplace Else tent, where Cable Boy lit a fire under the early crowd. Loud, loose, and sexy in all the right ways, their guitar-driven madness felt urgent, like they’d waited all year to kick off their 2025 festival season. The synths cut through the fuzz with surprising funk, and the band locked into something primal, shaking off any trace of a Sunday lull. People danced. People shouted. It was electric.
Over on the main stage, KhakiKid turned up the charm with a breezy, tightly produced set that blended cheeky charisma with smart beats and a full crew of friends bouncing across the stage. It was a charming display, like he was trying to give all his mates a moment to shine on the main stage. It felt more like a block party than a performance – saxophones, silky vocals, and even a “Free Palestine” message beaming behind him. It was a sunny set that paired perfectly with the weather.
Cliffords at Forbidden Fruit 2025. Photo by Owen Humphreys www.owen.ie
Things got grittier in the RTE Rising tent, where Cliffords, fronted by the magnetic Iona Lynch, delivered a dose of raw, emotional indie. Trumpet lines soared over crunchy guitars, and Lynch’s voice cracked in all the right places. It was a little dramatic, a little goth, and totally captivating. The kind of set that feels bigger than the tent it’s in.
Back under the Undergrowth canopy, Nimino was quietly redefining what a “DJ set” could be. More cinematic than clubby, his use of textured samples and deep emotional arcs pulled people into a trance. Not the flashiest set of the day, but maybe the most transportive – the kind of music that makes time stutter and stretch. The expertly paired music and video created an environment of its own within the tent.
Yaeji took that energy and twisted it – a masterclass in weird, beautiful transitions. Her set at the Lighthouse stage was packed, almost claustrophobically so, but she moved through her selections with confidence and an ear for surprise. Industrial thumps followed ghostly vocals. It was heady, sometimes even difficult, but totally addictive.
Yaeji at Forbidden Fruit 2025. Photo by Owen Humphreys www.owen.ie
Then Fcukers took to the main stage, and everything went a bit strange with their eclectic sound. A band? A live electronic act? A trap rave performance art piece? All of the above. Their debut Irish show was theatrical, fun, and just the right amount of unhinged. Autotuned vocals sliced through thick basslines while eerie visuals flickered behind them. It was sexy and a little terrifying – like if Daft Punk met a Manhattan basement cult.
Later, Shiv brought the mood back down in the best way, her soulful set on the RTE Rising stage a warm, welcome hug after so much sensory overload. Her voice was like honey on skin, her band so in-the-pocket they almost disappeared. It was tender and lush and real – the kind of set you don’t talk through because you can’t. Their set was like a spa holiday in the midst of the rest of the festival chaos.
Then, anarchy again. Peggy Gou drew the one of the biggest crowds of the day at the main stage with people abandoning their chips and queues for the toiler to have a dance, pulling in the masses for a set that was clinical in its precision and massive in its payoff. She didn’t need to scream or gesture or chase energy – she held it, calmly and completely. Every drop felt like it had been waiting in the wings for ten minutes, then slammed down like a velvet hammer. Some people just have it in them, and she’s a perfect example of this. Bringing her South Korean-grown and Berlin-resident style to us, where we feasted on a gorgeous set.
Peggy Gou at Forbidden Fruit 2025. Photo by Owen Humphreys www.owen.ie
In between the DJ’s, Pastiche took to the RTÉ Rising stage, a neon-flavoured pop explosion that couldn’t have been more different. This was pure theatre: her belting vocals, clever lyrics, and playful set design (including a massive lip-shaped phone) created a kind of musical fever dream. There’s a kind of Dua Lipa-meets-Caroline Polachek energy to her – a rising star in full command of her stage. It’s rare to see a pop act bring this kind of punch, and she more than delivered.
BUNT. of Stuttgart, brought a totally different kind of chaos to the Undergrowth tent. His set was a pure dopamine hit – jungle house, thumping BPMs, and an eagerness to please. No subtlety, no shame, just joy. He played to the back of the tent and beyond, and the crowd responded like they were at the end of a three-day festival. Sweaty, grinning, slightly feral.
Following him, Dublin’s own Jazzy took over the biggest tent of the festival and flipped the tone entirely. Riding the momentum of radio hits and a string of club-ready bangers, her set was all polish and high-energy payoff. The crowd was massive with the tent nearly packed out, and clearly knew the words, singing back choruses and losing it to each beat drop. While the vibe leaned more commercial, she knew how to hold a crowd and after a day of moodier moments, her set felt like a sugar hit. Taking advantage of the darkening skies, the laser show paired with her set was something else – like a beacon from across the festival grounds.
Underworld at Forbidden Fruit 2025. Photo by Owen Humphreys www.owen.ie
And then, as if summoned by the memory of every warehouse party you’ve never been cool enough to attend, Underworld arrived. No intro needed, no gimmicks. Just sound. Watching these two masters take over the main stage felt like a spiritual awakening. The visuals were stark, the lighting minimal to start and as the evening went on, they added more and more elements with lights disappearing behind the Irish Museum of Modern Art at the top of the hill. The power in the music – the way they let things build, stretch, and finally crash – was overwhelming. People were dancing. People were screaming excitedly when a favourite song came on. It wasn’t just nostalgia; it was a reminder of what electronic music can do when it’s given space to breathe, to haunt, to pummel.
By the time the final beat faded into the night, Sunday felt less like a festival day and more like a shared dream – wild, weird, euphoric, and beautifully real. It was a day for dancers, for party animals, for lovers of chaos. And above all, for music that hits you right in the gut.