Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
Listen up here, I’ll make it quite clear
I’m gonna put some boogie in your ear
Shake and bop, don’t you stop
Dance like a maniac until you drop
‘Born To Raise Hell’ – Motörhead
Walking in, through the arena’s main entrance, underneath the impressive frame of the Motörhead Bomber lighting rig one senses an ebullient reverence coursing through the veins of Bloodstock 2024. Lemmy Kilmister’s ashes, in a unique urn, will be housed in a specially commissioned bust of the legendary frontman that will be unveiled, later today, on the Dio Stage following Hatebreed’s set.
Part way between Lichfield and Burton-Upon-Trent located upon the eastern banks of the sinuous River Trent the leafy surrounds of Catton Park has been the home for Bloodstock Open Air since 2005. Barely a stone’s throw from Birmingham – long considered the birthplace of heavy metal – B.O.A. has grown into the UK’s largest independent metal festival some of the largest names in metal, rock, and the subgenres thereof.
Bloodstock’s guardian mascot S-tan, a magnificent horned beast based upon the tale of the Derby Ram, looks over the site casting a cogent incantation that ensures a friendly and safe atmosphere. It’s most certainly on a comparable level to that which we experienced at Rockharz, Germany. In fact, B.O.A. feels more continental than UK in its vibe and it’s all the better for it.
Across its four days and over four stages – all within short distances of one another – well over one hundred bands upon 2024’s lineup will ensure much headbanging, moshing, circling, and surfing. All on a site that is compact yet spacious, with something for everyone including battling Vikings through to Bin Jousting. Simply put this is a festival where it’s virtually impossible to bored or, indeed, alone.
Following Thursday’s opening night across on the Sophie Lancaster Stage the honour of opening up the Ronnie James Dio Stage is handed to crushing Oxford quartet Desert Storm. They’ve been dealing out their own particular brand of heavyweight stoner metal for over 17 years and after 40 minutes, I can be coloured several shades of genuinely impressed.
Stepping out, a couple of minutes ahead of schedule, they’re right into the fray with the heavy, heavy stoner groove of ‘Astral Planes’ take the notable distinction of being the very first number to challenge the main stage speakers. Combining touches of King Kraken and Clutch my attention, along with a sizeable number, is complete.
Drawing in a truly decent crowd, at an ungodly pre-11am time, their hammer-force grip and clench. Vocalist Matthew Ryan, a total titan, enthuses “Fuck yeah Bloodstock! What an absolute pleasure to be playing here for you.” Although this isn’t their first rodeo Bloodstock-wise the sense of the occasion is clearly not lost on them.
In keeping with their band name, the muscular ‘Master of None’, craned in with specialist heavy lifting equipment from the latest album ‘Desert Rattle’, is a gritty, granular desiccation. The resonant bass of Matt Dennett (also Battalions), in his penultimate gig with the band, quakes parallel to the growling SG belonging to Ryan Cole all atop an unwavering foundation laid down by drummer Elliot Cole.
It all seems to have been elevated since I first encountered them in the rather incongruous surroundings of Butlins, Minehead opening up the Introducing Stage of 2017’s Giants of Rock festival. The darkening eclipse of ‘Melotone’ is co-joined with the tempestuous ‘Sway of the Tides’ to advantageous effect. The heavy stoner riffage of the aptly titled ‘Queen Reefer’ gets underway with the unlikely intro melding of early Maiden and Quo. It all adds to, and enhances, the atmospherics.
The nostalgic ‘Cheyne Stoking’ eddies and floods along its lengthy course before a swerve ball is lobbed in with ‘Bad Trip’ and its knowing nod to fellow Oxonian’s Radiohead – there must be something in those dreaming spires that Victorian poet Matthew Arnold made note of. A hefty set is concluded in typically uncompromising fashion as the serpent rises to strike within ‘Black Bile’. I am delighted to have rekindled my acquaintance.
From Indonesia to Italy the Brazilian thrashing merchants of Nervosa simply haven’t stopped touring in ’24. Evidently, it’s in their very own road-warrior DNA. This efficacious quartet land in the UK with a burgeoning hard-hitting reputation going afore them. Their Bloodstock appearance is a much awaited one, coming towards the end of a slew of European dates across the summer months.
Although formed back in 2010 the current Nervosa lineup is a relatively new one constructed about the nucleus of sole-remaining founder member Prika Amaral, the dervish force afront the quadrumvirate. If one didn’t know you’d bet good money upon the strongarm trio of Helena Kotina (guitars), Hel Pyre (bass) and Gabriela Abud (drums) having been in the band for a considerable time. In fact, the latter only joined in January of this year but it’s a tighter than tighter lineup that conceals those relatively short lengths of service.
Tracks from last year’s release ‘Jailbreak’, the fifth studio offering of their career, neatly bracket a wholly consuming set. They march forth to the symphonic intro notes of ‘Seed of Death’ and take the thoroughly deserved applause as the last strains of the Anthrax-fringed album opener ‘Endless Ambition’ wash across Catton Park.
With their barnstorming set-opener the four-piece are right into the epicentre of the action emanating wave after wave of raging thrash metal with glorious dashes of melodics herein. Along with an ever-expanding Dio Stage crowd I’m snared instantly, suddenly I’m that mid-80’s teenager discovering the likes of Anthrax and Metallica all over again. A tenuous aside, how wonderful that a whole new generation of metalheads have discovered ‘Master of Puppets’ courtesy of ‘Stranger Things’?
The ever-expressive Amaral couldn’t contain her delighted facial expressions if her life depended upon it. Etched intensely with power and enjoyment in equally highly levels this is the compelling face a musician thoroughly in tune with their music. It’s simultaneously beguiling and bewitching.
The circle pit expands and accelerates in the rapid-fire ‘Death!’ and ‘Kill The Silence’ with its respectful nod to early Slayer and Testament. The latter certainly achieving the objective of its title; what better way to spend the moments either side of Friday’s noontime?
Abud’s hammering percussive herald ‘Perpetual Chaos’ prior to Ameral and Kontina’s guitars screeching, banshee-like, into the mayhem being rumbustiously chased in by the low-end of Pyre. A chant of “Nervosa” erupts from the BOA arena, Amarel smiles and expresses a collective gratitude.
The unrelenting forces of ‘Venomous’ tear reality asunder with touches of German thrash legends Kreator. Introduced as “Oldest of Nervosa” by Ameral the early-Metallica infused ‘Masked Betrayer’ – Nervosa’s first-ever music video – is soaked up by an admiring B.O.A. ensemble. “You are amazing” effervesces Amaral furthering “This is an unforgettable day for us!” following a rampant ‘Jailbreak’ that sails upon rivers of blood.
With furrows of ‘Am I Evil’ running through it the avalanching ‘Guided By Evil’ employs the hammers of Odin upon the anvil. A pink unicorn furiously headbangs, above the crowd, to ‘Endless Ambition’ surely the theme tune for the reaper. There’s just a fortnight’s break and then nearly two months on the road across US and Canada ahead for Nervosa. I’m not alone in eagerly awaiting their return to UK shores.
“Our first time in the UK, thank you for making it so amazing!” applauds striking vocalist Marloes Voskuil midway through an entrancing near 40 minutes in the company of Dutch metallers Haliphron over on the Sophie Lancaster stage. From the oceanic depths so rises a monster so sizeable and powerful it’s beyond comprehension, seven tentacles fearsomely outstretched in readiness to compress the next victim within a watery grave.
The haunting intro ‘Let The World Burn’ (and opening strike of debut album ‘Prey’) leads the assembling quintet into the initial beautifully brutalistic salvo of ‘The Killing Spree’. There’re enlightening touches of symphonics amidst the tempest and an indication why, in a recent interview with Moshville Times, the band described their sound thus “It’s not really one style but we name it symphonic blackened death.”
Shifting upwards seismically ‘The Resistance’ provides an initial gentler moment in the caliginous oceans of torment before attaining skull-crushing melodic hook. Either side of storming the ramparts with titular track ‘Prey’ three tracks from the forthcoming October release ‘Anatomy Of Darkness’ are aired to great receptions.
The seriously heavy ‘Black Star’ is coupled with the surging tidal wave of ‘Double or Nothing’ beforehand whilst the surgical strike of ‘Epitome of Perfection’ follows with horns raised aloft. Frenetic number ‘Human Inferno’ ups the ante even further to provide a befitting set finale.
In a completely unexpected lightning strike Haliphron have raucously emerged out of the shadows to grab my attention, one of my top-end brand-new discoveries of the B.O.A. weekend. Featuring members of Bleeding Gods, God Dethroned, Sinister, and Izegrim this is an outfit that has since formation in 2021, most deservedly, gone from strength to strength with a further rightfully ascending trajectory awaiting. Haliphron haste ye back.
Just a year shy of their 30th anniversary outfit Wolf pack a sizeable crowd into the Sophie tent. With a typically Scandinavian take on classic heavy metal the quartet rattle through a nine-track set clocking in at just over 40 minutes with trademark Swedish precision.
They’re as straight as an arrow fired true. Horns are raised in appreciation at the end of opening track ‘Shoot To Kill’. Its powerage of the North has swiftly impressed by all accounts. Galloping hard into the NWOBHM-rooted classic ‘The Bite’ there’s a cap doffed not only towards the UK but in the direction of Germany with the influences of Helloween and Scorpions shining brightly.
Completing a heads-down 1-2-3 ‘Shark Attack’ accelerates even harder along the metallic freeway, replete with extremely hooky chorus it’s right up the alley constructed by fellow Swedes Bullet. Vocalist and guitarist, and founding member, Niklas Stålvind introduces checking in with band name, country of origin before stating “We play British heavy metal!” poignantly furthering “It feels like coming home so to Birmingham the birthplace of heavy metal.”
Derived from an 1895 article from the Boston Sunday Post ‘The Ill-Fated Mr. Mordrake’ is a 19th century urban legend that describes the heir to an English peerage as having a face at the back of his head. Fantastical stuff that with a touch of Saxon – a band Wolf has toured with – and entwining guitars has translated into a true head-nodding track that the Sophie tent gathering lap up.
“It’s good to be back! The first time in the UK since Covid!” roars Stålvind; this third B.O.A appearance coming some four years since the band’s UK tour as special guests of Grand Magus. In fact, Bloodstock is the last of the band’s summer touring commitments before they return to the studio to lay down new material.
The pugilistic cut and thrust of ‘Dust’ continues the metalliferous jousting into the wondrously chugging ‘Voodoo’. The gathering is right onside singing and clapping along with Bloodstocking gusto.
The contagion of ‘Skull Crusher’ and razor-sharp ‘Speed On’, highlighting their Priest and Maiden influences, wrap up a mighty set that has served as the perfect showcase for the latter six of their nine long-players. A veritable fine return to the UK; however please don’t leave it so long next time!
Going from long established bands to new talent is a pulchritudinous thing of Bloodstock. There is a built-in ‘system of nurturing’ emerging talent here at Catton Park. Via the environs of the New Blood and EMP stages the winners of ‘Metal 2 The Masses and newly established bands that Bloodstock wants to showcase have a platform to perform. No question of it the next generation of rock and metal is in safe hands.
The nascent energies of Tyneside pagan metal outfit Crowley have been firmly grabbing the attention of many across the UK. With stellar appearances at Winter’s End, Wildfire, Maid of Stone, Call of the Wild and Love Rocks it’s a nailed-on certainty that this quintet is destined for bigger and even grander things.
Having witnessed firsthand the large calibre firepower that was despatched in an early morning set at Love Rocks there was nowhere else I was going to be at this juncture, late afternoon, other than the EMP stage. Housed under a shading canopy, more or less in the shadow of the Dio Stage, a club-like atmosphere is created in an outside realm.
Weaving a Sabbath-esque occultic thread about a Green Lung paganistic one Crowley hit the EMP stage crowd right between the eyes with the rage of opening track ‘Hell Hath No Fury’. Imagine the aforementioned Sabbath fronted by Lzzy Hale and you’re going to be on the right track for sure.
‘Silver Star’ possesses a stoner/pagan crossover vibe that goes down a storm; a raging beast, a gryphon afire. Confident and composed the ebb and flow of alternating strengths and embrace is well received. The vividly blue-haired Ruth Cranston quietly punches the air above her guitar in a moment of deserved satisfaction.
Out front vocalist Lidya Balaban powers the stampede into ‘The Offering’ with the backline literally rocking and seemingly under threat of dropping off the rear of the cramped stage. The atmospherics of ‘Hecate’ drop the tempo slightly prior to the Sirens’ roar of ‘The Witching Hour’ which actually drowns out Hatebreed’s sound check.
The doomy riffs of ‘Pyre’ round off a quickfire half an hour that has delighted a packed out EMP stage with the crowd spilling out into the afternoon’s sunshine so much is the demand to get a glimpse of this rapidly burgeoning outfit.
The ‘Connecticut Caveman’ – as Lamb of God’s Randy Blythe referred to them in his recent congratulations – collectively known as Hatebreed bring their rampaging 30th anniversary celebrations to Bloodstock for a UK exclusive appearance. Their fourth B.O.A. slot is just their second post-Covid venture to these parts, following last year’s Download set, as they become increasingly rare visitors.
Catching them in detonative form at Rockharz just a few weeks ago I’m poised and ready for their particular madcap take upon mayhemic processes. The Dio Stage crowd are whipped up in an instant with the sub three-minute hyper ‘To The Threshold’. It’s the commencement of an incredible hour-long raging set that covers all bases other than 2020’s ‘Weight of the False Self’.
This current lineup is the longest serving and most consistent one having come together in 2009 with the return of original member Wayne Lozinak. The guitarist slotting into the ranks alongside fellow co-founders Jamey Jasta (vocals) and Chris Beattie (bass) as well as the long-serving pair of Matt Byrne (drums) and Frank Novinec (guitar).
“You know what time it is” states Jasta as he points at his watch, ‘A Call For Blood’ receives complete Bloodstock reverence. As a pair of contrails form a supersized cross ‘This Is Now’ provides a battering ram. The conflagrant tones of ‘Destroy Everything’ ensure that Hatebreed’s self-confessed aspirations of all Bloodstockers awakening with no faces in the morning is well on course to be completed. A crowd surfer in his wheelchair – with the legend ‘Wheels of Steel’ emblazoned upon his wheel hubs – goes over the barrier to loud, loud cheers.
The crushing ‘In Ashes They Shall Reap’ is dedicated to “Our brothers in Clutch.” Jasta notes, after grabbing a swig of water, “Always great at Bloodstock!” bashfully continuing “30 years we’ve been doing this for, I know it’s hard to believe!” There’s a joyful sense of playfulness even now three decades down the line.
‘Live For This’ and its inherently crunching guitaring guarantees a continuing elevated level of intensity whilst a venerable barnstorming version of Slayer’s ‘Ghosts of War’ brings down the Bloodstock house. “[A] Tribute to a band who helped out Hatebreed more than other” introduces Jasta.
Riotous scenes greet the anthemic ‘Looking Down The Barrel Of Today’ registering seismic bursts on the Richter scale. Multi-coloured punks and obsidian shaded metallheads shoulder to shoulder comrades in the pit and circle for the category five hurricane pairing of ‘Tear It Down’ and ‘Proven’.
During the cannonade of ‘Perseverance’ the Hatebreed wrecking ball ‘escapes’ into the backstage area and despite some fevered efforts doesn’t return much to the chagrin of the B.O.A. ensemble. The machine-gun pyro of ‘Honor Never Dies’ leads into the rampaging finale that is ‘I Will Be Heard’. Street punks Hatebreed have conquered once again.
Having arrived at B.O.A. to be greeted by their promotional videos advertising their Christmas gig at Swansea’s Bunkhouse venue Welsh deep-water dwelling metallers King Kraken are on an understandable high. “You’ve no idea how many years I’ve been waiting to say that!” enthuses kilted vocalist Mark ‘The Bear’ Donoghue after greeting a packed EMP Stage with a simple yet genuinely heartfelt ‘Hello Bloodstock!”
Heading off studio-wards, under the highly honed capabilities of renown producer Romesh Dodangoda, KK step onto the EMP stage suitably buoyed however, there’s even more reason for celebrating as a main stage slot at Rockstock is announced towards the end of a particularly stompingly good set.
A thundering new track ‘Scream’ gets a set largely dominated by last year’s debut release ‘MCLXXX’ underway in typical Kraken fashion, uncompromising and unrelenting just the way Bloodstock demands things to be. One further yet to be released number in the form of the fast-paced behemothic ‘March of the Gods’ pierces the rightful reflections upon 2023’s output which is highly placed amongst my favourite albums of the year.
A souped-up ‘Bastard Liar’ feints one way and then strikes purposefully square on the chin; Bloodstock you’re not getting up from that one! But arise they do and are ready for the sonic dimensions of ‘Green Terror’. There is physically no room underneath the EMP canopy, so the crowd expands about all four sides and thus The Kraken gain what is surely their first experience of playing ‘in the round’.
‘Haddonfield ‘78’ conquers – “It’s about a friend of mine called Mike, he’s a bit stabby!” quips Donoghue – prior to a feral ‘Man Made Monster’ that lays down a stonered doomy Sabbath-ish groove right from the crypt.
In an atmosphere more akin to a sweaty rock club than the evening airs of a riparian country park ‘Veins’ and ‘Castle Of Bone’ pair up with the latter ploughing a Clutch furrow to bring the canopy metaphorically downwards. Most certainly a defining moment for these affable Welsh chaps who have grafted so hard over the years since formation in 2018.
In matching with the warming sunshine Marylanders Clutch assemble with minimal fuss to the funky ‘We Need Some Money’. Originally recorded by Chuck Brown & the Soul Searchers it was recorded by Clutch and released on the deluxe version of ‘Physic Warfare’.
It’s a deliberately stripped back Dio Stage that they step out on to; with just their band logo on a screen behind them there is no room for any frivolous behaviour herein. In a way it’s much like what we encountered with ZZ Top at their recent Wembley appearance but minus the glitter. Just a bunch of equipment, a backline, and a kit that drummer Jean-Paul Gaster continuously threatens to pull apart with his quaking percussive forces.
If Sabbath joined forces with Creedance Clearwater Revival atop a fiery volcanic plateau whilst Messrs. Beard, Hill and Gibbons served up astral beverages you’ll only begin to understand the cosmic goodliness that Clutch serve up. For the next tripping 75 minutes we are held 110% enthralled in the palm of frontman’s Neil Fallon’s hand.
A very lucky 13 studio albums over a career that began in 1991, along with a lineup that came together following the departure of short-lived original singer Roger Smalls just a little while after formation and endures to this very day speaks volumes of the consistency of this Stateside muscle car of rock.
The set’s focus is one that is, one album aside, is very polarised upon the commencement of Clutch and their current output. The first two albums ‘Transitional Speedway League Anthems, Anecdotes and Undeniable Truths’ along with the eponymous sophomore release form one aspect. Whilst the most recent releases ‘Psychic Warfare’, ‘Book of Bad Decisions’, and ‘Sunrise on Slaughter Beach’ provide another. All balanced, quite neatly, about the pivot-point of 2004’s ‘Blast Tyrant’.
‘X-Ray Visions’ masterfully gets the all-important business underway before bowling headlong into a bristling ‘Firebirds!’. Were it not for the engagement and hyped presence of Fallon Clutch would be a static entity. However, the startling comparison between the frontman’s energies and the complete focus upon the music by his colleagues makes for compelling viewing.
‘Slaughter Beach’ casts further hypnotics upon B.O.A as the sun continues to descend in the evening skies afront the Dio Stage. Shooting from the hip ‘Profits of Doom’ is a primetime Wild West gunslinger ahead of the 21-gun salute of ‘The Mob Goes Wild’. The evocative ‘Nosferatu Madre’ talks of vampiric revenges in a new world ahead of the arenaceous stoner groove of ‘Walking In The Great Shining Path of Monster Trucks’.
Clear crowd favourite ‘Sucker For The Witch’ pushes the V8 hard along the open expanses of the desert freeway to delight B.O.A. further. There’s little chatter between songs, the music speaks volumes by itself.
‘Escape From The Prison Planet’ occupies a 21st century heavy void that Hawkwind could inhabit. Planets align for the Dan Maines’ meandering bass that warps dimensions by itself in the trippy environments of ‘Spacegrass’.
‘Quick Death In Texas’ harkening towards ZZ Top is the perfect herald to a triumphant closing triple of ‘El Jefe Speaks’, the rarely played ‘Binge and Purge’’, and ‘Impetus’. I can’t quite believe it’s taken over 30 years to connect with this imperious eclecticism of a band and see them live. 2024 is proving to be one heck of a discovery ride of greatness!
A first visit to Bloodstock in over a decade since their first two headline slots of 2008 and 2010 Opeth are still maturing like a fine malt whiskey in a rum-lined barrel. Swedish prog-masters of the metalliferous realms the Stockholmers are renown for the lengthy compositions that often breakthrough the ten-minute barrier. In a delicious irony the band sometimes slip in an ‘extended’ cover of Napalm Death’s 4 second opus ‘You Suffer’.
An intro tape of monk-like chanting turns out to be ‘Seven Bowls’ by the relatively short-lived Greek progressive rock band Aphrodite’s Child (featuring Vangelis before he became Vangelis and a certain Demis Roussos). Opeth assemble with an assured air that comes with over three decades in the business. Seas turn black and rivers run red whilst the Beast turns pale and all before the quintet strike a note.
In what is reported, pre-festival, to be a set derived from a vote of the fans the Scandinavians fire their first broadside of doom prog death metal with the opus ‘The Grand Conjuration’. This is what Pink Floyd would have no doubt sounded like if they had veered off, for some peculiar reason, into heavy metal dimensions. Earthquaking, haunting and heavyweight it’s an epic tussle, as dusk settles in, between the elements that comprise Opeth.
Chimes clatter loudly within the ebb and flow of the conjuration that is ‘Demon of the Fall’ which provides an initial knockout 1-2 strike. With no original members remaining there’s more than a degree of reverence to longest serving member Mikael Åkerfeldt. Inadvertently from his perspective Åkerfeldt’s arrival just a brief time after the band forming provided a catalyst for a revolving door to open up with eight documented changes occurring in less than two years!
Åkerfeldt enquires “What’s up you Limey fucks?” before bantering with unheard hecklers about the merits of Lynyrd Skynyrd, “I’m already there” he concludes. Too loud supportive cheers he furthers “I was saying to Méndez (bassist Martín) that I suffer from Imposter Syndrome. I shouldn’t be here but I am.” Something that parallels his comments in an interview with Finland’s Chaoszine that he perceives himself as either singer or guitarist but purely a musician.
The opulent tones of ‘The Drapery Falls’ follows, a true metal leviathan. A half hour in and we’re on just the third track. These gents evidently wrote the textbook on writing epic verse. There’s a new lp, ‘The Last Will & Testament’, in the offing with UK dates announced for February 2025 confirmed too.
An atmosphere somewhat redolent of Floyd’s 1990 headline set at Knebworth comes to mind, minus the drizzle mercifully. Chilled vibes and gentle strains emanate from ‘In My Time of Need’ before the epic tidal flows of ‘Heir Apparent’ are untethered.
A lavish tempest grandiosely roars in ‘Ghost of Perdition’ another glorious ten-minute epic that sends searing light into the Derbyshire night. With its jazzy intro ‘Sorceress’ alloys ‘Master of Puppet’ riffing with the progressive delights of the likes of Focus and Hawkwind in a Sabbath territory. Set-closing symphony ‘Deliverance’ sets B.O.A. afire for one last time as a tsunamic force sweeps over all before. Lightning crashes jaggedly and thunder rumbles upon high. Opeth leave their mark in the Derbyshire soil, these are mighty energies to follow.
Thus, my first experience ends with a broad smile upon my face. A day of reconnections, discoveries, and witness upward trajectories in one of the friendliest festivals arena-wise I’ve been too. Following an eventful day – where one of the highlights was catching up for the first time in six years with Helle and Ulrik two very good friends over from Copenhagen specially for the festival – there’s even more on offer on Saturday.
Photography by Pete Key for MPM
Photography for Desert Storm by Artur Tarczewski
