As I type this, the EBU has decided that it’s perfectly fine for a country conducting an ongoing genocide to promote itself at a Song Contest supposedly based on values of peace. Fortunately, there’s an alternative song contest that has a clear moral purpose and unapologetically stands with the marginalised and colonised. To find such a much-needed alternative, we turn to, of all places, the Arctic.
On Saturday, Pan-ArcticVision held its third edition in Iqualuit, the tiny, isolated capital city of Nunavut, a semi-autonomous Inuit territory in the far north of Canada. Since 2023 it’s proven itself as a riotous, anarchic contest on a tiny budget, that tends to be in turns fun, bizarre, heartwarming and hilarious. Prior editions have featured such highlights as an expletive-riddled theme song about local fishermen having their stocks destroyed by major fishing companies from down south, and verbal barbs aimed at Hans Egede, the 18th Century Norwegian coloniser of Greenland.
This year’s contest was held in, of all places, the local army cadet hall. Competing in this tiny venue were artists from Alaska, Nunavut, Greenland, Iceland, the Faroes, Sakha and the Sami communities in Norway, Finland and Sweden. Last week I spoke to Pan-ArcticVision’s artist director Amund Sjølie Sveen. He explained that all these communities share a sense of being “at the edge” – not just geographically but also politically. They live far from the capital cities where decisions about their lives are made. Frequently, they also share a common experience of being colonised – Sakha by Russia, Nunavut by Canada, Greenland and the Faroes by Denmark.
I would see Amund again onscreen as he opened the contest by leading a steel-drum performance, using dried fish as drumsticks. The gathered artists sang for not one but four prizes – “the most Arctic song”, “the most revolutionary song”, “the song that gives us the most feeling of community and togetherness” and, most prestigious of all, “the place in the Arctic that really needs a prize and deserves to host the next edition of Pan-Arcticvision.”
The winners were selected through online voting among the various Arctic communities. In a nod to Eurovision, there’s a rest of the world voting option. However, unlike Eurovision, the Arctic communities also get a separate vote on whether to include the ROTW vote in the results. In 2024, they voted not to, but this year, we were permitted to have our votes count.
I’ll discuss the four winners in a moment, but before I do, I should mention that the contest is still available to watch on YouTube. If you’re curious about the show, and don’t like spoilers, you might want to go watch it there before reading further.
Pan-ArcticVision 2025 Performers (Pan-ArcticVision Instagram).
The prize for “most Arctic song” went to the Republic of Sakha, also known as Yakutia, a vast area in the Russian Far East. Yakutia’s artist Saina describes herself as “a singer, a teacher and a mentor” who seeks to bring the disappearing languages of her region to the world. Her performance was a showcase of indigenous musical styles, incorporating throat singing and traditional instruments such as the mouth harp and drum. While staunchly traditional in composition, Saina adds surprisingly danceable rhythms and impressive vocal harmonising onstage, in a way that feels both authentic and fun simultaneously.
A very different act won “the most revolutionary song” prize. Despite being barely out of high school, Geðbrigði (Icelandic for “mood swings”) are now a twice-award winning band. Earlier this year they won Músíktilraunir, Iceland’s national youth music contest that has previously launched the careers of Mammút, Of Monsters and Men and Vök. They play punk rock with a strong infusion of doom metal, and gave a very confident performance for such a young band. What was the song called? I don’t actually know. The running order for Pan-ArcticVision only states the artist names and where they’re from, not the song titles. Look, it’s Pan-ArcticVision and they do things differently here. Just go with it.
Linus Johnsen, a Sami musician from northern Norway, won the prize for “the song that gives us the most feeling of community and togetherness”. He plays pop music with progressive and rock elements, with lyrical themes of love, queer identity and mental health. At Pan-ArcticVision he performed a thoughtful piano ballad in the Sami language with joiking elements.
Finally, we come to “the place in the Arctic that really needs a prize and deserves to host the next edition of Pan-Arcticvision”. The online vote picked the Faroe Islands represented by Dóttir, who was born in the Faroes, was raised in Denmark, and uses music to reconnect with her roots.
In this instance, I do know the song title because Dóttir discusses it in her intro. She performs Vitan (Faroese for “knowledge”), a song inspired by her grandmother. She explains that her grandmother was a highly inquisitive child who every morning would walk long distances to the nearest school, no matter the harsh Faroese weather, so she could get an education. She sings a haunting traditional Faroese harmony, to a folk-rock melody.
The Role Of Pan-ArcticVision
Between songs, artistic director Amund Sjølie Sveen addresses the audience, explaining the need for Pan-Arcticvision, because “the Arctic is a playground for forces far away”. He continues, “We are constantly told by our governments we need to be prepared. That’s why we need to spend more money on weapons. That’s why we need to dig out more minerals from mountains. That’s why we need to not question the government. That’s why we need to open new military bases. That’s why we need to kiss Donald Trump’s behind.”
The call to action from Pan-ArcticVision is for the people of the Arctic to take back their own agency and tell their own stories, sing their own songs, rather than accept those from faraway capitals. It’s a compelling message, and far more attractive than when the EBU simply recites, “Eurovision is an apolitical contest where artists represent broadcasters, not countries or governments” – a refrain that increasingly deserves to come with its own laughter track. When I spoke to Amund last week he freely admitted that he never expected there to be more than one contest. Instead, next year they’ll be holding their fourth edition in the Faroes.
To this author, the thought of cancelling any trips to Vienna in 2026 and heading to Tórshavn instead is looking increasingly attractive.