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Oslo is freezing. Here for the by:Larm festival, the largest music industry showcase in the Nordic region - basically their equivalent of SXSW - Q suspect we are about two seconds from pneumonia, or at least it feels that way, as we queue for a club gig in the Norwegian capital. All around people are tottering over uneven streets concealed by a thick layer of ice, which is left as a cold and pristine blanket for us to tempt our fate. Fans of slapstick comedy are certainly having a field day.

THURSDAY

We've decided to kick our weekend off with a name that best resonates with the surroundings. Unassuming indie outfit Cold Mailman, whose reputation has packed more people than what is strictly legal inside the intimate club we now have managed to push our way into, impress. In fact, so much so that we check them out again later on.

Cold Mailman - Pull Yourself Together And Fall In Love With Me by Hypetrak

Over at venue proper Rockefeller (capacity 1300) an expectant audience awaits a minor comeback from genre-busting quartet Rumble In Rhodos. No hits tonight though: "We thought we'd play mostly new music for you, is that okay?" asks vocalist Thomas rhetorically and is met with a few exaggerated sighs. And although being conveyors of an exquisite hybrid of intellectual no wave, post-core and, uhm, emo-pop, tonight's performance is somewhat subdued. Firing on all cylinders though, are hardcore trio Blood Command, a band that see no harm in relentless touring, whose catalogue consist of songs like Party All The Way To The Hospital and Five Inches Of A Car Accident, and whose look-at-me-the-wrong-way-and-I'll-kill-you singer Silje Tombre sports a deadly combo of suit jacket and suspenders. Brilliant.

Blood Command - Alarm All Assassins from Blood Command on Vimeo.

Meanwhile, at the slightly larger Sentrum Scene (capacity 1700), things are all the more chirpy as local pop darlings Norma Sass take the stage. "I'm just really happy" explains singer Thea Glenton Raknes, before launching into a happy song about happy things. Considering there's a suspender-clad singer across the street screaming about accidents, this is all shaping up to be pretty nice and bizarre. Montée was reportedly formed to create a 'new and challenging sound', but excel themselves tonight by putting 'euro' and 'pop' together thus lodging themselves in a less than favourable genre. So we quickly flee back to Rockefeller to catch the immense canon of testosterone that is Kvelertak. They have through their notoriously sweaty live shows already gained a sizeable fan base in the UK and Europe, and will later be revealed as the recipient of the annual Statoil grant (approx. £100,000). But tonight they're just concerned with rocking the shit out of Oslo like only bearded and half-naked Norwegians screaming about Vikings can. Which of course, is exactly what they do.

KVELERTAK - MJØD from BLÆST on Vimeo.

FRIDAY

Friday night, the lights are low and the temperature even more modest. Inside a converted church, silence is only broken by the voice of Icelandic singer-songwriter Ólöf Arnalds, commanding the seated audience to hum the choir part of one of her songs, as she seems to have misplaced everything but her guitar. Her eccentric yet beautiful set precedes the inaugural Nordic Music Prize, a Mercury Prize-based (and slightly awkward) award ceremony. Of the 12 nominees, ranging from Finnish socio-political pop to Norwegian Viking-inspired metal and First Aid Kit, it's Sigur Rós frontman Jónsi and his debut solo album Go that emerge victorious, but sadly he's not performing. No harm though, as swiftly filling the void is fellow NMP nominee Susanne Sundfør, Norwegian eerietronica piano siren and possessor of a voice as gargantuan as fragile. Add the divine atmosphere and you're witnessing a spectacle truly sublime. Reports of must-see bands are staggering tonight. 120 Days are, according to a group of young Danes, 'seriously ace', a bearded fellow reckons Dungen were 'magical', while Put Your Hands Up For Neo-Tokyo draws a rather large crowd, mostly because of their name.

The Brothel by Susanne Sundfør

Team Me have been generating a shedload of fully deserved buzz and deliver a spectacular set of Arcade Fire-meets-Mew eccentricity, promptly bagging a lucrative export deal. We choose to believe this has nothing to do with one of them being the sister of one of The Wombats. Which it probably hasn't. In any case, it's a major highlight.

Weathervanes and Chemicals (Team Me) by Mr.Shuffleupagus

Also competing for the unofficial gig-of the-festival gong tonight are Mathias Stubø and Thelma and Clyde, both acts drawing an extraordinary amount of youngsters to an extraordinary tiny venue. Stubø (aka Proviant Audio when accompanied by a full band), an 18-year old production/sampler/performing genius, blends the best of 70s disco with electronica and delivers a set that only makes us longing for the full Proviant treatment. Later on, Thelma and Clyde, a Norwegian duo masquerading as a five-piece ensemble, have decapitated a disco ball in order to accessorize their uniform hoodies, and parade their catchy electropop amidst glittery heads and coital dance moves with arguably the most well-compiled set of the festival. This is shaping up to be a pretty decent night indeed. So, off to Rockefeller, where Harry's Gym have come straight from a UK tour in order to repeat the success of their career-defining performance here three years ago. Their recent second album might not be as immediate as its predecessor, but spearheaded as always by the increasingly extrovert Anne Lise Frøkedal, they tonight deliver a frequently marvelous set that, although not toppling last night's headliners Kvelertak, nor Harry's' previous stint at this event, is a fine testament to their distinct role in the Nordic pop scene.

Proviant Audio - Play Your Game by Paper Recordings

SATURDAY

The Drift by thelionheartbrothers

It's still early on a Saturday evening, but the reports from Mathias Stubø's floor-filling set last night have to all intents and purposes made today's performance at posh nightclub Stratos impossible to witness. Having already eased our way into the night with some charming and introspective folk courtesy of local troubadour Morten Myklebust, we stroll over the ice to catch a glimpse of indie rockers I Was A King, who although not being the most captivating live band around, certainly bring some of the finest melodies. Their opposites, Trondheim's undoubtedly At The Drive-In inspired rockers 22 are reportedly one of the best shape-pullers in by:larm's catalogue, and prove their reputation right with a somewhat chaotic slot at one of the larger stages, having recently bagged an international recording deal with UK's Best Before Records. Hoo, and furthermore, ray. Nearby, shoegaze hipsters The Lionheart Brothers fill the Rockefeller venue with some delightful noise in an astounding set of prog-tinged MBV goodness, while indie chancers Brighton do their best to emulate The Killers during their set at notoriously democratic rock club Mono (Lady Gaga, Franz Ferdinand and QOTSA have all been told to queue like everyone else here). But it's gone -18 degrees tonight, which is frankly just ridiculous, so we scurry to the heart of the festival to see Swedish dream poppers The Concretes trying - and failing - to keep the attention of a by now remarkably drunk crowd. Closing the whole shebang is fellow Swede and hip hop party prince Adam Tensta who through some decent showmanship gets at least half the tent going, leaving the rest to ponder the ratio of alcohol consumption to potential ice-related injuries in Norway's glassy capital.

Check out Q's by:Larm gallery right here.

Words and photos: Brand Barstein

4:11 PM | 07/03/2011