It was a weekend of firsts at AVA Belfast: the first time they had built their own site, the first time they had incorporated live bands and—for many younger attendees— their first opportunity to hear music on a large soundsystem after lockdown, as local indoor venues remain shuttered until October 31st.

As I arrived at Boucher Playing Fields I was immediately struck by the three mammoth-sized baby pink wooden letters ahead of me—created by local woodsmiths Happy Pallet Co—cementing the space's status as AVA's newly adopted home. Made up of four stages—The Grasses, The Baltic, The Surround and The Nomadic—with each bringing their own distinct flavour, this already began to feel like a step up from its origins. "None of us knew what to expect this year with the location change," said one early-attending raver, "but this has far exceeded our expectations." The bucket hat-sporting attendee had made his way down to catch Crilli DnB, Belfast's only dedicated drum & bass night. "There's something really cool about being able to hear 140 BPM at 4 PM in Belfast," they said. "This doesn't usually happen." Long-time resident Swoose, who also made his solo Boiler Room debut at the festival, echoed this sentiment: "Being a part of the festival from day one, it's really incredible to see just how far it has come."

What began as an intimate festival in a small warehouse embodying the city's iconic shipbuilding aesthetic has evolved into hosting ten thousand guests per day and a lineup that's increased in diversity of sound over the past six years . No longer content with competing for the title of best festival in Ireland, AVA have their sights firmly fixated on rivaling similar events throughout Europe. It's this progressive approach coupled with the family feel that the festival has managed to maintain (founder Sarah McBriar's parents attend every year, as do many of the local artists' families) that makes it such a great experience.

This was an emotional release, and the vibe was cathartic after having been starved of letting off steam for nearly two years. Friends from north and south of the border danced hand in hand to a lineup comprised of 80 per cent Irish artists, up from 70 per cent in previous years.

At The Surround, recent Wisdom Teeth affiliate Sputnik One meandered through his signature percussive, weighty aesthetic (and a Sugababes edit for good measure). The introduction to the Surround—where Boiler Room would later be hosted—was something to behold: From Sputnik One into AVA emerging producer winner Cartin's live set, followed by a BR debut from Rotterdam based, Belfast-raised Kessler, fresh off a release on Desert Sound Colony's Holding Hands label, all of whom inspired the audience with their warped takes on breaks, techno and emotional electronica.

AVA regulars will have noticed the increase in genre diversity at this year's edition, most of which was showcased at The Grasses. A large space with a small tent, this stage managed to encapsulate the energy and vibe of an intimate, sweaty club. Throughout the weekend, the stage would host incredible live performances from Kojaque & Soft Boy Records, recent Rhythm Section affiliate Brién, contemporary jazz icon Kaidi Tatham and Gemma Dunleavy. The offering reaffirmed that Belfast is ready for something beyond traditional house and techno. Gemma's performance of the Irish anthem Up De Flats was a real moment, as was her performance of the Murlo produced "Jasmine."

Emby—who broke through this year and has been quietly making a name for himself on the UK circuit—was on the mic, providing the first real example of just how far AVA is willing to evolve. His grimy, animated delivery on Sir Spyro's Side By Side VIP was wheeled three times, and the Belfast crowd's energy almost took the roof off the tent.

House and techno still reign supreme in Belfast, and with the standard that AVA set, it's easy to see why. Or:la at The Surround on Friday was a particular highlight; her signature blend of percussive beats, trippy minimal and subtle basslines crafted a beautiful and inspired homecoming.

Sunil Sharpe's set at The Nomadic was another peak moment. A line of security held back hungry ravers desperate to enter despite capacity limitations. Those who couldn't enter danced happily in front of security. "Sure, you wouldn't want to be in there anyway, look at all the room you have out here to dance!," said one security guard. She was right. Sharpe's technical sets always inspire shapes to be thrown, and this was no exception.