Osi and the Jupiter conjured an eerie, hypnotic ritual onstage, a performance that felt like summoning. Blending Appalachian melancholy with the icy echoes of Scandinavian Paganism, their set felt like Townes Van Zandt lost in a forest séance, guided by Mortiis. Stark cello, droning synths, and sepulchral chants drifted through the venue like fog, enveloping the audience in a trance. It was dark, it was trippy, and perhaps just a little bit evil, in the best possible way. Mystical folk never sounded so possessed.
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