The best electronic music set in Leeds this year: Caribou + Ela Minus dazzle at Leeds O2 Academy

It’s a Sunday night in February and I walk down, alone, to Leeds O2 Academy. Content in my headphones, I am reminded of the last time I queued outside this venue. It was freshers week, only a few months ago, though it feels like a year. It was the first Indie Thursday of the term; I remember the half-excited, entirely-awkward crowd of newbie students. As I look at those around me now to see who has replaced the noise, sweat and slightly manic excitement of freshers, I spot a 6ft+ man in a leather trench, leather cap and steel-toed cowboy boots queued next to two women in Princess Polly attire. Parents with younger kids wait alongside couples, students, and individuals like me – the broad appeal of Caribou’s uplifting electronic sound evident from beyond the vacant stage. This is my first time going to a gig by myself and I feel a certain nostalgia for my first days living in Leeds, the Caribou classic ‘Home’ playing from my phone, now a poignant soundtrack to this milestone of my newfound independence. 

As I wait by the barriers, cold starts to work its way through my Leeds layers, trepidation simultaneously building at the prospect of entering the cramped setting of Projekt. I begin to wonder what I should expect – a loud gig with one man on stage pressing some buttons on concealed DJ decks, with all the charisma of London posers mixing in Hyde Park? As if to dispel my doubts, an apparition appears. It is Dan Snaith picking up his Deliveroo dinner from beside the back door to the venue. An ordinary man, inconspicuous in a t-shirt and plain trousers, understandably goes unnoticed by those around me, though as he disappeared back into the venue, I felt a buzz at the thought of his imminent transformation. Like Clark Kent into Superman, I was now eagerly anticipating leaving the familiarity of the puddled Leeds streets to be taken into Caribou’s world of light, colour and bass-driven good times. I was not to be disappointed. 

Support act: Ela Minus 

Ela Minus is a Colombian multi-instrumentalist, producer and singer taking the techno world into her own hands. With a Björk-like air and the confidence of a musician settled into their artistry, this exciting performer positions herself in front of the DJ controller and promptly takes ownership of the stage. Buttons and dials are in full view of the audience; Minus herself is facing away. What follows is a masterclass in natural performance. At one point, I become convinced that Minus has forgotten about the crowd whilst she skip-dances across stage, sings with ease, keeps the pace and excitement with the electronic elements whilst making everyone feel included. A real show, yes, but one that encouraged attention as well as participation. The audience moved to every beat; there was a sense of a falling in love: for her music, her dance but also EDM as a whole. Minus’ presence and intense use of bass turns a Caribou crowd into eager, raving Minus fans. Her track ‘Broken’ from new album DÍA (2025), has been described by Pitchfork as “a cry for help that swells into a soul-purifying baptism-by-rave”. When the track rang out, the hair-vibrating levels of bass surpassed any previous gig volumes in my experience, pulling us into the intensity of healing by dance. It felt like an invitation to something special and, whether we purified our souls or not, we accepted it readily.

Caribou 

Building on the energy that Ela Minus had created, Caribou transfixes the audience. The levels of light, colour and volume start lower and gradually build up, creating an all-consuming set that uplifts and surprises. 

In the opening segment of the gig, Caribou keeps the stage in black and white as the band plays a few tracks from the lesser-known depths of his discography until a final crescendo and drop into the crowd-pleasing ‘Odessa’ when the venue was plunged into red lights and geometric patterns were projected behind the band. A striking start encourages consistent dancing from those around me, and I genuinely feel myself smiling at the stage as I eagerly await what’s to come. Caribou’s live performance consists of Snaith and his bandmates, Ryan Smith (guitar, keyboards), John Schmersal (bass, keyboards) and Brad Weber (drums). For some tracks, Dan and Brad face each other, both playing drumkits with a musicality that brings an electrifying definition to the drum solo. The energy of the three of them on stage takes over: everyone around me, including those I see when I crane my head to check out the balcony above, are on their feet dancing. At one point the sounds produce the sensation of being inside a siren (in an exciting, sonic-absorption kind of way); at most other points, the music simply encourages uninhibited dance. Caribou were smiling throughout, Snaith using the few breaks between pieces of the free-flowing setlist to look out at the crowd, expressing a gratitude that felt genuine. The pace is kept up for the whole evening, more intense EDM shifting seamlessly into classics such as ‘Sun’ and ‘Never Come Back’. It was fun and loud, at times soulful and always, consistently, joyous. The noise, bass, and dazzling beams made me consider at one point that I may leave O2 that night with reduced vision and hearing, a price that, in the infectious fun of Caribou’s set, seemed a reasonable one to pay. The musical highlight, however, has to be the 2,300 people (plus the 3 band members) singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to the drummer, Brad. Electronic and dance music contributed an estimated £2.4 billion to the UK economy last year. Nevertheless, it is a genre, scene and entire community that is constantly being neglected – take the closure of Leeds’ very own Old Red Bus Station as a microcosm for this wider issue. My ticket for Caribou had a face value of £49.50 so it is understandable why there was a lack of students in the crowd. However, there are ways to support the local garage and electronic scene here in Leeds. Get yourself to Caribou or Ela Minus’ tour if you can, look out for smaller-cost clubnights such as Cosmic Slop (which Caribou has DJ’d at for free), or events at smaller venues. As Caribou has said about his own work, EDM “makes people happy”. Indeed, when I later listened to his 2025 album Honey back at my flat, I found myself dancing on my own in the shared kitchen, inevitably being caught twirling around while eating buttered toast. My recommendation for 2025? Go to the loudest gig of an artist you love, but go alone.

Written by Francesca Lynes