I Flew From Mumbai to Riyadh to Watch Music Take Over One of the Biggest Stages in the World

I flew from Mumbai to Bahrain and then on to Riyadh on Gulf Air, already bracing myself for the usual festival travel chaos, but that never really came. Pick-up was smooth, hotel check-in was frictionless, and there was an underlying sense that things had been thought through before I even landed. That feeling of being taken care of stayed with me all weekend, and by the time Soundstorm began, it felt less like arriving at a massive event and more like stepping into something that was already running exactly the way it was supposed to.

I went in expecting Soundstorm to be impressive because that’s what everyone says about Soundstorm, but what I wasn’t prepared for was how easy it felt to exist inside. It sounds like a strange compliment for a festival this massive, but it matters, especially when you’re clocking multiple nights, walking kilometres without realizing it, bouncing between stages, moods, genres, and still somehow not feeling irritated or overwhelmed.

Once you’re inside the site, the scale hits you instantly, but what stands out more is how structured everything is. This isn’t one giant field with stages scattered around in the hope that people will figure it out. Soundstorm is designed to function like a city, with clear districts, pacing, and purpose, a clarity that changes the entire experience over three long nights. You don’t just scramble between performances; you move through environments, and that sense of orientation stays with you even when you’re wandering without a plan.

Downtown sits right at the heart of this layout. It’s not a headline stage zone, and it’s not something you rush to tick off, it’s the space you keep returning to between sets, moods, and energy spikes. It houses five satellite stages, Yard, Roog, Greenhouse, Swing and Mixtape, each programmed differently, which means you’re constantly stumbling into something unexpected rather than waiting for a scheduled moment. This is where you eat properly instead of panic-snacking, where you sit without guilt, where you people-watch, regroup, and recalibrate before diving back into the chaos. With over 40 food and beverage vendors spread across the area, the food feels woven into the experience rather than pushed to the edges, and that small detail ends up mattering more than you realise at 3 am.

From there, the rest of Soundstorm opens up in a way that feels deliberate. You move from open-air stages built for spectacle into enclosed, immersive spaces designed for focus, then back out again, without ever feeling like you’ve stepped outside the festival’s rhythm. The Tunnel stage, fully enclosed and weatherproof, is built around a massive sun installation behind the DJ booth, creating this almost surreal, cinematic atmosphere where the outside world disappears completely. With space for over 12,000 people and a solid concrete floor that keeps the sound tight and physical, Tunnel feels less like a festival tent and more like a warehouse dropped into the desert. 

The underground and techno-heavy zones lean even further into that idea of immersion. Soundstorm West, built using over a thousand shipping containers, becomes its own club district, packed with Plexi, Log, Port and Silk stages, plus Tunnel anchoring the area, and the Elrow-designed Port stage adds a playful, slightly chaotic edge to the otherwise dark, driving energy. This is where hours slip by without you noticing, because the environment is doing as much work as the music. 

There’s also a quieter but deeply meaningful shift when you wander toward the new 6AG stage. Designed like a modern Arabic wedding, it immediately stands out from everything else on site. Draped structures, ceremonial lighting, and a layout that encourages gathering rather than confrontation make it feel communal instead of imposing.

With a capacity of around six thousand, the space never feels like a crowd being managed. People stay longer than planned, face each other as much as the stage, and settle into the warmth of the lighting and the closeness of the sound. It’s also where Soundstorm’s commitment to local and regional artists feels the most confident, not as a cultural checkbox, but as something infused naturally into the festival’s core.

And then there’s the Big Beast main stage, which anchors everything. Towering over the site, it’s impossible to ignore, yet it never feels like it’s compensating for anything. Knowing that this stage previously broke world records for height and LED scale makes immediate sense when you’re standing in front of it, but what matters more is how well it functions. The visuals are massive, the sound travels cleanly across huge distances, and even when you’re all the way back, you don’t feel disconnected from what’s happening on stage. With a capacity of 65,000 and an overall site pixel count pushing past 90 million LEDs across stages and screens, the visual language feels continuous rather than fragmented.

Over three days, Soundstorm drew more than 500,000 people to the site, and yet still managed to feel navigable rather than overwhelming, which is no easy feat at this scale.

That’s exactly why Cardi B’s set landed as one of the most important moments of the weekend for me. She understood the scale instantly and played with it instead of attempting to overpower it. Her quips loosened the crowd, her now-viral “Assalamu alaykum” cut through the night with humor and warmth, and when she performed songs from her latest album AM I THE DRAMA? live for the first time, it felt very intentional. This wasn’t just her Saudi debut; it felt like a preview, almost a trailer for what her upcoming world tour might look like, and choosing Soundstorm for that moment felt deliberate rather than symbolic.

Post Malone shifted the energy entirely. There was a softness to his set that landed hard in the middle of all that scale. Watching him move through older hits like “White Iverson” and “Rockstar” alongside newer material felt reflective rather than nostalgic, like someone comfortably sitting inside their catalogue instead of racing through it. It was one of those sets where the crowd didn’t feel frantic; it felt collectively present, which is rare at a festival this size.

One of the most unexpected standouts for me was Benson Boone. His set created a strange pocket of intimacy at a festival designed for tens of thousands; people were listening intently, and that shift in energy felt rare. Loyle Carner was another highlight, bringing thoughtful, grounded U.K. rap that translates beautifully live, especially if you’ve spent time with his latest release. Watching him felt like being let into his head rather than watching a performance engineered for spectacle.

Tyla was sharp, fluid, magnetic, completely comfortable in her movement and presence, and Pitbull turned his slot into a full-blown 2000s club night dropped into the desert, chaotic in the best way. Not everything worked. Young Thug felt lost on a stage this big, like the scale swallowed his energy instead of lifting it. In contrast, The Kid LAROI was surprisingly solid, emotionally present, and confident, while Davido turned his set into a celebration; you could literally see the African crowd gravitate towards his stage, the energy shifting into something communal and joyful within minutes.

The electronic programming is where Soundstorm’s creative direction really flexes. Anyma’s set felt less like a DJ performance and more like an installation, visuals and sound locking together so tightly that time started to blur. Swedish House Mafia delivered nostalgia without it feeling dated, while Steve Aoki, Afrojack, Major Lazer and DJ Snake kept the site pulsing. ARTBAT were relentless and immersive, and BLOND:ISH delivered one of those rare sets where you forget to check the time entirely because leaving feels wrong.

Ben Böhmer finally made sense to me here. I’ve seen him live multiple times in India and, if I’m being honest, it’s never quite landed for me the way I wanted it to. But this time was different. The magnitude of the stage, the restraint of the visuals, the way the crowd leaned in instead of talking over it — everything aligned. Something about Riyadh, the night air, the pacing of his set, and the audience’s chemistry made it click in a way it never had before, making it one of those performances that quietly rewires how you remember an artist, and I know I won’t forget that set anytime soon.

One of my biggest personal surprises of the weekend also came with Halsey. I’d seen her live at Lollapalooza India before and walked away underwhelmed, but this version of her felt transformed, fully charged and completely in control. Watching her now, especially after hearing her speak about creative freedom with Zane Lowe, it’s hard not to feel like her best work emerges when she’s trusted to evolve without interference.

What stayed with me most, though, was how thoughtfully the HER experience, a dedicated female-only viewing zone, was embedded into the festival rather than treated like a side note. Eight zones spread across stages, along with dedicated HER lounges and bars, clearly marked “HER” pathways running across the site. There was even a double-decker viewing platform designed specifically for women. All of these quietly changed how you move through Soundstorm. You don’t have to plan around safety or access; it’s already been planned for you, and that ease is felt constantly, not announced loudly.

The same care showed up in places you don’t always expect, especially the media centre, which was genuinely impressive. Proper media walls, real desks, catering that didn’t feel like an afterthought, and a large lounge-style setup meant journalists were treated with respect. It felt calm, functional, and generous, and after covering enough festivals to know the difference, that stood out.

Even the in-between moments felt considered. Over sixteen hundred drones lighting up the sky, massive site-wide screens stretching across thousands of square metres, lightwork that followed you even while walking between stages, so the experience never fully switched off. Sustainability efforts operated quietly in the background, water bottles recycled, cans collected, cardboard repurposed, systems in place without screaming for attention.

By the final night, I was tired, obviously, but not in that hollow, exhausted way most massive festivals often leave you with. I still wanted to wander, to discover, to catch one more set before heading out. That’s rare at this scale, and that’s why the journey from Mumbai didn’t feel indulgent or excessive; it felt justified.

Soundstorm didn’t just impress me, it held me, and that’s a much harder thing to pull off. Five stars, without hesitation.