Wanderland Music Festival 2025: A Decade in the Making
Ten years in, this festival still knows how to catch you off guard—in the best way possible.
A festival can’t fake ten years of relevance. It either grows, shifts, adapts—or it fades away. Wanderland Music & Arts Festival 2025 didn’t just prove it could last. It proved it was built to. Held at the Filinvest City Events Grounds, this year’s lineup felt like a curated conversation between memory and discovery. Two days of performances that played out like chapters—cohesive, deliberate, and as bold as they were understated.
Alyson (PH) opened Day 1 with a vibrant ease. Her city pop-infused sound was clean, youthful, and unpretentious, a perfect lead-in to the day’s more experimental acts. Varis (TH) followed, blending rock and pop with a slickness that still felt rooted in something real. His performance was polished but never sterile, brimming with energy that felt intentional and unforced.
Regina Song (SG) brought a softness to the day, her dreamy indie-pop washing over the crowd with clarity and calm. The minimalism of her set allowed her voice to breathe, to settle into the air with precision. WAIIAN (PH) countered that gentleness with sharp, meticulous lyricism. His verses landed like darts—focused, assertive, and delivered with an intensity that held the crowd’s attention from the first beat to the last.
Toneejay (PH) offered something both intimate and expansive. His emotionally charged set cut through the noise, creating a space that felt personal, even in the midst of thousands. Then came 92914 (KR), weaving melancholy and melody into a soundscape that felt like a late-night drive. His performance was delicate but not fragile, a testament to his ability to craft atmosphere as much as song.
Mayonnaise (PH) brought familiarity and force, tapping into nostalgia with tracks that had the crowd singing back every word. When 'Jopay' hit, it was more than a song; it was a collective memory, given new life. Sinosikat? (PH) shifted the mood effortlessly, her sultry vocals commanding attention without demanding it. She made the stage feel smaller—in the best way possible—drawing the audience into her orbit.
The night’s energy turned with Chet Faker (AU), his raspy electronic-soul pulling the crowd into something thick and immersive. His set rolled over the field like smoke, slow-burning and deliberate. Dayglow (US) brought a radiant, almost reckless joy. His indie-pop anthems were buoyant and infectious, his sound pure sunlight in musical form.
Daniel Caesar (CA) closed the first day with a kind of calm that only he could deliver. His voice—warm, textured, impossibly smooth—didn’t need to reach for anyone’s attention. It simply held it. As he moved through tracks that felt both familiar and transformative, it was clear why he was the final note of the night.
Day 2 opened with the steady pulse of Nameless Kids (PH), their indie-rock sound measured and confident. There was a structure to their spontaneity, an ease that felt earned. MINDFREAKKK (TH) followed with something both delicate and defiant. His blend of synth-pop and city pop felt like it shouldn’t work—but it did, beautifully.
PRYVT (CA) brought mood and texture, his set subtle but never subdued. The restraint in his music made each note feel deliberate, each pause intentional. Dilaw (PH), on the other hand, gave everything. His performance was raw, electric, full of the kind of energy that refuses to be ignored.
Yung Kai (CA) offered intimacy through sound. His bedroom-pop sensibilities made the massive venue feel small, his lyrics like conversations instead of performances. The Paper Kites (AU) turned that quiet into something almost sacred. Their folk-rock nostalgia wasn’t about longing for the past; it was about finding stillness in the present.
Urbandub (PH) brought force and familiarity. They played like they had something to prove, even though the crowd’s enthusiasm made it clear they didn’t. Their set was a testament to resilience, to evolving without losing what made them unforgettable in the first place. Plain White T’s (US) leaned into familiarity as well, their singalong anthems threading nostalgia through the air like a comfort you didn’t realize you needed.
Hermitude (AU) broke the calm with a relentless blend of hip-hop-infused electronica. Their sound felt like a force, something meant to be felt as much as heard. The crowd responded in kind, moving to every beat. HONNE (UK) closed the festival with elegance and warmth, their synth-pop shimmering across the grounds like light caught on glass. Their third Wanderland appearance felt like a homecoming—welcomed, earned, and effortlessly delivered.
But Wanderland 2025 wasn’t just about what happened on stage. It was everywhere. The Wandermarket pulsed with creativity—pottery stations, matcha and mochi tastings, handcrafted jewellery. It offered the kind of tactile experiences you don’t expect from a music festival. And when the lights dimmed on the main acts, Goody Dance Shoes, curated by UNKNWN and Groove MNL, kept the energy alive with seamless transitions from DJ sets that refused to let the night end.
You could feel it in the faces of the kids running through the Little Wanderers Area. In the way people moved between the music and the marketplace without losing momentum. In the conversations that spilled out beyond the festival grounds.
It was never spectacle that kept Wanderland alive—it was the way it held space. A decade of making room for the familiar, the fresh, and everyone caught in between. Its magic wasn’t built on grandeur. It thrived on curation, community, and the freedom to let everything breathe.
The festival didn’t just survive—it evolved. With every new artist and every familiar face, it grew into something deeper, more intentional. Ten years later, it felt less like an event and more like a place that always belonged.
