As the sun dipped below the horizon on day three of Womadelaide 2025, the crowd at Tainmuntilla (Botanic Park) swayed in a collective trance. Under the vast bat colony, Brooklyn-based Colombian artist Ela Minus blended her ethereal vocals with pulsating synths, sending waves of energy through the audience. Strobe lights flickered over the dancing mass as the surrounding pine trees amplified the reverberations, lifting the sound skyward.
Minus’s music defies easy categorization—somewhere between pop and house, intricate yet expansive. The crowd moved in unison, slick with a day’s worth of sunscreen and sweat, hypnotized by her set. At just 45 minutes, it ended too soon, leaving a lingering high that had festivalgoers wandering in search of something to match the intensity.
A Weekend of Heat and High-Energy Performances
This year’s Womadelaide took place under relentless heat, with daytime temperatures soaring to 35°C on Saturday and Sunday, before peaking at 40°C on Monday. The extreme weather forced some performances on Stage Seven—situated beneath the flying fox camp—to be rescheduled. The heat even took its toll on the park’s trees, with one branch falling on festivalgoers Monday evening, sending a man to the hospital with a concussion.
Despite the scorching conditions, the artists performed with unwavering intensity. Ngaiire took the stage in a voluminous red dress; Róisín Murphy began her set in a black suit and fur hood; and Sun Ra Arkestra dazzled in shimmering sequins and metallics. The heat didn’t seem to faze them—if anything, it fueled their performances. Murphy’s Saturday night set, a whirlwind of infectious pop energy, had the crowd surging forward, eager to share space. She embraced this, climbing onto the barrier to hug fans and snap photos.
Meanwhile, Emily Wurramara stood apart in a flowing skirt and bikini top, her soulful voice blending seamlessly with the summer air. More than just a performance, her set felt like a sun-drenched conversation—a moment of connection between artist and audience.
Music, Protest, and a Call for Change
Last year’s festival was marked by controversy when Palestinian-Jordanian band 47Soul had their invitation revoked, sparking protests. This year, their return was met with overwhelming support. A Palestinian flag hung on stage, with fans waving keffiyehs in solidarity. During their Saturday set, Tareq Ali Mohd Ali addressed the previous year’s events:
“It was frustrating for us, the justification of why you would withdraw an invitation to us,” he said, prompting cheers from the crowd. “Are you ready for some more anti-colonial music? Are you ready for some more anti-racist music? Are you ready for some more Free Palestine music?”
The audience roared in response, reinforcing Womadelaide’s role as a space where music and activism intersect.
A Festival That Flows
Despite the extreme heat, Womadelaide 2025 maintained its signature easygoing atmosphere. The music was as eclectic and soul-stirring as ever, with energetic crowds packing the front of the stages—especially after sunset. But even in the thickest moments, the festival never felt overwhelming. For much of the day, the longest lines were for ice cream, and even in dense crowds, there was space to dance, to breathe, to simply take it all in.
The closing act, Khruangbin, encapsulated the weekend’s energy perfectly. Their signature blend of psychedelic rock and dreamy grooves left the audience swaying in euphoric bliss—serene, mesmerized, and utterly at ease.
On an otherwise languid Saturday afternoon, I found my own moment of magic in Lindigo, a maloya band from Réunion Island. Under the relentless sun, festivalgoers danced to a vibrant fusion of drums, bass, and accordion—a joyful, melodic cacophony. Spray bottles of water, a festival essential, were squirted in rhythm with the beat, offering brief respite from the heat. As Lindigo descended into the crowd, leading us in synchronized dance, the boundaries between artist and audience dissolved. In the sweltering Adelaide summer, it felt like pure magic.
