Ásgeir and Jacob Brodovsky Live In Winnipeg, MB

There is something inherently cinematic about Ásgeir’s music. Even at its most restrained, the Icelandic singer-songwriter’s work seems to exist somewhere beyond the room in which it is being performed—where sparse melodies stretch toward enormous horizons and electronic textures shimmer like distant lights. On August 6, 2026, that sense of scale arrived at Winnipeg’s Sidestage, where Ásgeir transformed the relatively intimate venue into something considerably more expansive.

The evening began with Winnipeg singer-songwriter Jacob Brodovsky, whose understated performance provided an ideal introduction to the night. Opening with “Past Mistakes,” Brodovsky settled quickly into a set built around warmth, vulnerability and observational songwriting. “Restaurant” and “Night Baker” highlighted the conversational quality of his material, while an unidentified song he stated he hasn't really played much of yet offered another glimpse into his developing repertoire.

Jacob Brodovsky. Photos by Samuel Stevens.

There was an appealing looseness to Brodovsky’s performance. Rather than attempting to overwhelm the room, he allowed his entire setlist of songs to breathe, drawing the audience closer through their intimacy. “Theatre” and “Older Too” continued that reflective mood before “Kids” brought the opening set to a fitting close. It was a reminder that a small stage can be an advantage when the songs are strong enough to command attention on their own.

By the time Ásgeir took the stage, however, the atmosphere shifted quite dramatically.

Opening with “Dreaming,” he immediately established the hypnotic quality that has become central to his music. The song’s delicate electronic pulse and airy vocals filled the room without ever feeling forced, setting the tone for a performance that consistently favoured atmosphere over spectacle. “Ferris Wheel” and “Torrent” followed, gradually expanding the sonic palette. Ásgeir’s music has always occupied an intriguing space between folk-rooted songwriting, electronic pop and something more difficult to define, and live, those elements became particularly striking. Soft passages could suddenly bloom into rich layers of sound, while the arrangements retained an impressive amount of space.

“Against The Current” and “Summer Guest” maintained that momentum, with the latter providing one of the evening’s most enveloping moments. There was a dreamlike quality to the performance, as if the songs were less being played for the audience than projected around it.

Ásgeir. Photos by Samuel Stevens.

“Eventide” and “Universe” pushed further into that nocturnal territory. The latter felt especially appropriate in the context of Ásgeir’s performance: expansive, contemplative and quietly immense. Rather than relying on dramatic gestures, the show built its impact through accumulation. One texture became another; one melody lingered just long enough to dissolve into the next.

“Julia” brought a more immediate melodic presence before the unmistakable opening of “King and Cross” elicited one of the evening’s strongest responses. The song remains one of Ásgeir’s defining pieces, and its live presentation demonstrated exactly why. Its combination of folk instrumentation, electronic atmosphere and soaring melody has lost none of its power.

“King and Cross” was followed by “Youth,” another standout that emphasized the emotional core beneath Ásgeir’s often immaculate production. There is a melancholy threaded through much of his work, but it is rarely oppressive. Instead, even the more wistful moments possess a sense of movement—a feeling that something is always just beyond the horizon.

“On That Day” and “Snowblind” continued the set’s gradual ascent toward its conclusion. By this point, the room had become fully immersed in Ásgeir’s carefully constructed world. The performance never felt like a collection of disconnected songs; it unfolded more like a continuous landscape, with each track contributing another layer to the overall experience.

The main set closed with “Going Home,” an appropriately reflective finale. After the atmospheric journey of the preceding songs, it landed with a sense of resolution without completely dispelling the dreamlike mood that had taken over Sidestage.

What made Ásgeir’s Winnipeg performance particularly effective was its restraint. There were no unnecessary theatrics and no attempt to manufacture grandiosity. The songs themselves provided the scale. In a room as intimate as Sidestage, that proved especially effective: the audience was close enough to feel the subtleties while the arrangements remained large enough to suggest something much bigger beyond the walls.

The show also demonstrated the value of pairing an established international artist with a local songwriter. Brodovsky’s intimate opening set established a distinctly Winnipeg sense of place, while Ásgeir’s performance seemed to transport the room somewhere altogether different. One was grounded in the immediate and personal; the other reached toward the atmospheric and universal.

For an artist whose music so often evokes wide-open spaces, Ásgeir proved that he doesn’t need a massive venue to create them. On this night, Sidestage was more than large enough.