So as not to be scared by the amalgamation of seemingly every person under the age of 30 (they're all in bands y'know) in one 1,000 sq m area of Reykjavik, we decide to dip our toes into the water with a festival starting line viewing of Britain's own Adem. Despite numerous technical difficulties such as malfunctioning guitars and a nervy disposition befitting of a Hugh Grant-played character, Adem wins the crowd over simply by virtue of being Nice. Nice is no bad thing of course, especially when it relates to the music that gently spills out of his 'Homesongs' debut LP. The ex-Fridge man now write songs akin to a British version of someone like Smog or Bonnie Prince Billy; deceptively complex and always engaging. The beautiful surroundings of the Reykjavik Listasafnid Art Gallery add to the beardy pleasures too.

Ergo, as we head off to the NASA club two minutes round the corner (bumping into all manner of people we normally see in Camden), we have a warm glow that almost manages to beat the chill of the Icelandic night. First on our radar are Bruorbandio, which translates roughly as Band Of Brides. Which if we'd know that before the band came out would have seen us less shocked when seven women in white wedding dresses hit the stage. There's something quite demonic, as someone pointed out to me, about a woman in a wedding dress who's not actually at a church getting married. And that sense of mild raging hysteria continues with the band's quasi-Cossack accordion-assisted indie femme set. Certainly not bad, definitely eye catching. Beware the white robed widows.

One of the joys of the Iceland Airwaves Festival, we are told, is walking into a random bar and getting your socks blown off by a band with no particular connection to the event itself. The city's just like that apparently. Obviously that's the sort of guff you take with a pinch of salt and don't actually expect to happen. So imagine our surprise of being drawn off the streets into the tiniest room above a bar (Bar 11 to be precise) and having our socks almost blown off by a really rather ace rock n roll band. Apparently they were called Jeff Who (we stand corrected, thank you), they have quite a predilection for tight, Strokes-esque rock, and a top notch fopp bass-player. Very good indeed. Perhaps we'll never see them again, but.. that's half the fun.

Grand Rokk, where we were diverted away from by Her Torpedo, plays host to LOUD Scando-metal-RAWK bands. When we finally manage to get there, we stick our heads in for roughly 74 seconds. We are scared by Changer and we run away. Pussy white indie boys that we are. We return to NASA in order to see a bunch of punks in full leather with motorcycle helmets play, but once again we're pulled away by our ears into the Gaukurinn venue (we think) where we swear we smell sweet coldplay-esque tuneage, but once we climb the stairs, we're greeted with Smashing Pumpkin b-sides. Ah well. That was (possibly, it's all very confusing) Cell 7.

Finally making it back to NASA, which by now is absolutely teeming, complete with a large crowd still outside queuing in polite orderly fashion, we hit upon the best band of the night, Ulpa. Starting off in a little bit stilted Mansun meets Numan fashion, they hit their stride towards the end, creating massive complicated Coopers vs Tool sounds and riffs that is as close to a full rock n roll explosion as we've witnessed so far. The near capacity crowd of 600 or so are clearly already converted fans to Ulpa, and by their triumphant end, we number among them. For Ensimi, who boast a more linear brand of indie rock, it's a tough act to follow, and accordingly, they don't hit the same heights. Maybe we're getting a little tired after a day of rock climbing and waterfall worshipping, but it doesn't have the pizzazz to keep us going.

Still, the Hotpants add some spice with their punkoid guitarings, sounding less International Noise Conspiracy than before and moving into angry Bangles territory. Probably the first time that they've ever played to more beautiful girls then them, they concentrate on showcasing new songs from their forthcoming albums. Even in the cold, dark surroundings of Reykjavik, Sahara Hotnights prove they have a warm and bright future.