Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
Visualise a metalheads’ utopia if you will. One in which the hard rocking foresight of celebrated British sci-fi author Douglas Adams – remember plutonium rock band Disaster Area, so loud that they play their instruments from orbit? – and the grittiness of Quentin Tarantino’s Titty Twister saloon spectacularly collide in the relatively incongruous surroundings of a riverside country estate. You have? Congratulations you’re on your way to Bloodstock.
It’s dawned warm, very warm. Catton Park swelters and it’s only just about breakfast time. Caffeine is calling and must be answered as B.O.A. sweats out the excesses of the previous night. Later on, as the relentless sunshine continues to beat across Staffordshire into our corner of Derbyshire, Flogging Molly’s energetic frontman Dave King exudes, in his gloriously rich Irish accent, “I’m gonna look like a fuckin’ ‘tom-may-to’ after this!” Did someone say it’s warm?
Overnight there’s been a heavy metal equivalent of the K-T extinction event – all the dinosaurs, well the overwhelming majority of them other than a handful of rather dazed and frazzled-looking stragglers, have disappeared. With no reported meteorite strikes in the wee chilly hours thus the combined impactful contents of a particularly potent fruit cider and a heavy metal branded wine are being held responsible.
The opening slots of any festival are a challenge for the acts concerned however the most challenging of them all is the ‘Hangover’ slot of the final day. Several days of hard rocking, carousing and general mayhem eventually take their collective toll. That being said, there’s a decent crowd gathered in the merciful shade afforded by the Sophie Lancaster stage for Welsh alt-metallers Black Lakes.
Winners of a Planet Rock competition to play B.O.A. this prize comes just a month prior to the release of ‘Dead Gods’ their follow up to the much-vaunted debut album ‘For All We’ve Left Behind’. Reflecting on the news of their win the band commented, to Planet Rock, “Being asked to perform on a stage that supports and highlights the work of The Sophie Lancaster Foundation, who really do embody the spirit of alternative culture and inclusivity really does make this even more special for us!”
The intro ‘Exordium’ rolls; rivers run red into seas broiling black as high above atop craggy cliffs the mist swirls about the scabrous moorland. A skeletal clan rises from the mire, cowled figures incantations they weave.
Hearts are formed and horns raised by guitarists Scott Bradshaw and James Rowland; with a “Let’s gooooo!” from expressive vocalist Will Preston it’s all systems go slamming into the razor sharp ‘H.A.T.E.’ which unchains the demon within. The opening track of ‘Dead Gods’ goes down an absolute storm.
Tearing right into the glorious ethereality of ‘Avarice’ there is a take no prisoners attitude clearly evident right across the board. The standard blackness is now punctuated by neat daubs of red here and there. Boot laces, clothing, guitar straps and James Rowlands’ new hair do all lead into a subtle shift. Tears of a bleeding heart descend into the abyss.
The mighty slabs of ‘Rapture’, ‘Hurricane’ and ‘Burn’ provide a triple-pronged insight into the forthcoming second album. Based on this hat-trick alone it’s shaping up to provide one heck of a seismic impact. The former engages instantly and then permits kinetics to flood off the stage in the next, an obituary of the damned, before the latter rises as an inferno from obsidian crepuscular twilights.
‘Fragments’ taking on an accelerated Zeppelin stomp alloyed with the strongarm of nu-metal partners the seething torrent of ‘Dissident’ to provide a triumphant closing salvo upon what has proven to be a vehement introduction to the Bloodstock faithful. A marker in the sand that will live long in the band’s memories and one that will surely provide a springboard for further successes.
I stick with the Sophie stage in order to have my melodic tastebuds well and truly tickled by Brummies Awake By Design. Although they’ve been in existence for well over a decade and have released three albums to date this thundering six-piece are a completely new entity to myself; the beauty of festivals and stepping beyond your comfort zone and knowledge.
Throughout their allotted half an hour I’m consistently impressed with how tight, as an outfit, they are. Their band bio likens them to the ilk of Iron Maiden and Kamelot and I couldn’t agree more following this first crossing of our paths. This is a sextet that truly thunders along but possesses the touch to apply the gentlest of harmonics or melody into the teeth of their particular gale forces.
Their six-tracks are drawn from the latter two of their albums along with latest single ‘The Only Ones’. It’s a galloping Maiden-esque romp that wide-ranging vocalist Adrian Powell informs “[This is a] New song only played once before.” About the guitaring that strains at the leash the keys of Hal Smith sparkle coruscant, a delightful confliction to the raw power.
Dropping proggish components into a hard metal with a Viking edge ‘Devoid of Illusion’ serves well as the first card dealt out to Bloodstock. The storming twin guitars of ‘The Coming Tide’ serve further credence to the likenesses afforded by their website complementing Powell’s soaring vocals. Twisting shadows and chasing them from the darkest of corners ABD are on a mission determined to bring their particular brand of searing metal along the A38 to South Derbyshire.
Ascending upon unseen thermals ‘Tired of Angels’ strides purposefully, taking a look back at 2015’s ‘Carve The Sun’ before ‘Nothing Hurts’, from their eponymous 2020 outing, introduces a broad swathe of Swedish-styled atmospherics into the mix with Powell’s vocals a distinctly delicious blend of Dickinson and Kiske.
Closing with ‘Carve The Sun’, harnessing the energy of a lightning bolt, Awake By Design takes a ‘The Evil That Men Do’ vibe onto an astral plane to ensure that their set remains firmly at the forefront of my B.O.A. memories.
I mooch across the sun-drenched Bloodstock site to catch Swedish prog metallers Soen in action, on the Ronnie James Dio Stage, in what is their first ever British festival appearance. Another completely unknown quantity to myself but given what I’ve read pre-festival I’m keen to see what they’ve got to offer this early afternoon.
Formed over a decade ago, in 2010, this quintet is constructed solidly about the nucleus duo of founding members Joel Ekelöf (vocals) and Martin López (drums). Former Amon Amarth and Opeth (two of this year’s headliners coincidentally) percussive dynamic López, upon formation, declared that the band’s music would be “melodic, heavy, intricate and very different than everything else.” A bold statement that, based upon their early PM despatch, is still holding true.
As unstoppable as lava flowing from the towering Mount, energised as the volcanic lightning Soen’s approach, throughout, is to caress and embrace rather than adopt a battering ram approach. This is music to imbibe and savour as the finest of wines or whiskeys are indulged.
Focusing upon the last three of their six albums Soen bracket their 45 minutes with cuts from last year’s ‘Memorial’ album. Opening with the title track and bringing the house down (gently of course!) with ‘Violence’. The former’s bombastic intro and synth fringes set a firm marker causing lead guitarist Cody Ford to nod and smile, seemingly satisfied, as the track outros.
Ford’s solos in ‘Lotus’ and ‘Antagonist’ delight; reminiscent of Gilmour and Blackmore in the former and as graceful as the swallow upon the wing in the latter. Ekelöf’s vocals are consistently impressive, akin to crystal clear mountain waters cascading over boulders and rocks.
There’s an overall comparison to the likes of Pink Floyd and Tool in what Soen do and that’s no bad thing in my book or of the many thousands of Bloodstockers gathered afront the Dio stage. Touches of German power metal outfit Orden Ogan dart about in ‘Martyrs’ as the lead alternates between Ford and his six-string sidekick Lars Åhlund.
The atmospherics and imagery are ramped up even further in ‘Unbreakable’ bringing in touches of the Von Hertzen Brothers and Magnum as the gentle Pink Floyd-esque strains match the glorious blue skies above before the brooding tempest erupts.
Rammed full of beautiful subtle eddies ‘Lotus’ is a truly scintillating moment. High above the northern coniferous tayga the snowbound bird returns from the remote wastelands B.O.A. is absorbed and captivated in the cogent sorcery.
A super-controlled release of demonic power from ‘Antagonist’ and the stunning ebb and flow of metallic tide of ‘Violence’ bring an erudite set to a celebrated finale. Multi-coloured pool noodles ‘clatter’ antithetically in appreciation as bassist Oleksii ‘Zlatoyar’ Kobel brings out a Ukrainian flag to loud cheers. It doesn’t all have to be dark and heavy to go down a storm at B.O.A.!
Cogitate upon what would’ve occurred if Mötley Crüe had been fronted by Rob Halford and you’ll wind up in the backyard occupied by power metallers Beast In Black. Subtract, perhaps, a couple of umlauts and with the flamboyant annexation of an entire warehouse of fluorescent colouration the aural and visual dimensions are completed.
A veritable league of nations – Finland, Greece, and Hungary – Beast In Black were founded in 2015 by guitarist Anton Kabanen upon his leaving Battle Beast. With three albums under their belt, they have left their pawprints across the planet with their rampaging.
Their output can be perhaps considered a little cliché but they’re proudly, and rightfully, unashamed. Putting it very simply I bloody well love harking back to a time when Bill and Ted battled Wayne and Garth, and courgettes generally ran a million miles from Derek Smalls. Whilst BIB do take some of their influences from this, now distant, time they bring the genre kicking and screaming into the 21st century with splendid warping into symphonic, speed and power realms.
The B.O.A. pool noodles go wild and a “Beast In Black” chant erupts as the band’s intro provides an uplift of seismic proportions as the five members emerge, from the shadows of side stage, into the bright sunlight.
The quintet slash through the next 45 minutes hurtling through selections from each of their long players. The serious business of being fun commences with ‘Blade Runner’; a rapid-fire meld of speed metal and a techno beat à la Amaranthe. However, in true Spinal Tap fashion it’s cranked up to the fullest of eleven.
Drummer Atte Palokangas brings in ‘Hardcore’ with a 70s Glam Rock tumble before the distinctive wide-ranging pipes of enigmatic frontman Yannis Papadopoulus romp along atop a pulsating, pumping head-nodder. There’s precise, sharp choreography along the frontline in the mode of Accept during ‘The Fifth Angel’, a metalliferous ‘Vorsprung durch Technik’ if you like.
A Sabaton infusion in the heraldic ‘Born Again’ is a strongarm draught that weaves Dragonforce and Europe into the blend. The B.O.A. ranks are on point with focused singing during this vast array of divergence alloyed at a stormy confluence. Infectious levels are by the large unavoidable, all about the party rolls into ‘Sweet True Lies’. Kasperi Heikkinen, arm about Papadopoulus to his left, watches on as the vocalist plays his fretboard.
“Do you feel the power tonight?” enquires Papadopoulus, in the glaring afternoon sun, before introducing the brand new single ‘Power of the Beast’ receiving its first airing in the UK. Its hyper pace, with talons to the fore, gets a Bloodstock thoroughbred stamp of approval.
It’s full-on party mode as BIB go full on Dynazty in ‘Blind and Frozen’; fists punch the Derbyshire air unified it’s catchy as hell. Want me to watch Eurovision then put this arena-ready anthem as the next Finnish entry! With a maxed six rolled the white knight that is sought comes to the fore within ‘Cry Out For a Hero’.
Papadopoulus chucks in a line from Backstreet Boys’ ‘Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)’ to kick-off the anthemic ‘One Night in Tokyo’; or was it Justin Timberlake’s ‘Rock Your Body’? I’m not entirely sure, this is well out of my paygrade and who, at the end of the day, really cares? Nobody I would assume but anyhow the energetic singer wants “to see everybody rock your body!” A request Bloodstock most happily complies with.
In fact, Bloodstock continues to party (pardon the utterly awful but unavoidable pun) like it’s the ‘End of the World’; the set-closer providing one last chance to watch the Beast corporation hammer along in the finest of fettle.
It’s been another enthralling and most enjoyable 45 minutes and the summer of broadening my rock n’ roll tastes continues apace. With their retrospective hair metal strains brought right into the modern day it’s been a ‘Back To The Future’ sort of enlightenment and one I’m most happy to have partaken in.
Bloodstock’s Sunday is proving a day of contrasts for myself as up next is the glitz and glamour of Swedish 80s AOR drenched outfit The Night Flight Orchestra. Rare visitors to England they are fronted by the effervescent singer Björn Strid who, along with bandmate David Andersson, formed the outfit in 2007 whilst out on an American tour with their band Soilwork.
Sadly, Andersson, at the age of 47 years, passed away in 2022 but Strid, along with the assembled ranks of TNFO, keeps the rock n’ roll plane in the air. If their musical output were to be considered in terms of films, I have no doubt that it would be a headlong collision between ‘Top Gun’ and ‘Dirty Dancing’. Cheesy? You bet it is! The Orchestra wouldn’t want it any other way.
Fully suited and booted TFNO win, absolutely hands down, best dressed band of the festival as they hot-wheel it down the freeway in the exalted company of Journey, Toto, and Foreigner. Visually striking The Flight land right on the dot, Strid immaculate in a precision suit and lustrous cape, backing singers Anna Brygård and Åsa Lundman sparkle in their retro air-hostess uniforms amidst the sharpest outfitted band since Brian Ferry led Roxy Music. Somehow though this doesn’t outweigh the actual tunes; set opener ‘Midnight Flyer’, TFNO’s theme tune of sorts, rollicks along setting the tone.
Strid is straight into the greetings “Well good afternoon Bloodstock how the fuck we doing?” he enquires before the Toto-infused keys herald ‘Sometimes the World Ain’t Enough’. Melodies and harmonies wash across Catton Park gently soothing the hordes.
It was just two years ago that TNFO closed this festival over on the Sophie Lancaster stage and they’re more than ready to conquer the main stage as they wind the soft top down for a spot of highway cruising in ‘Divinyls’.
If I’m not mistaken there’s a slice of Irena Cara’s 80s smash hits ‘Fame’ and ‘Flashdance What a Feeling’ flitting here and there, as implausible as it’s right on the money in the likes of the vividly shimmering ‘Burn For Me’. It’s incredulous that a decent percentage of the Bloodstock demographic didn’t get to live through this era; they’re, however, hellbent upon making up for this with plenty of grooving occurring.
Summery and breezy ‘Gemini’ radio-friendly AOR elicits a “Oh fuck yeah!” from Strid at track end, smiling at the crowd he furthers “Now that’s more like it!” Delivering more of the same in 2019 single ‘Satellite’ TFNO rock out to the clear delight of the B.O.A. ensemble.
‘White Jeans’, a homage to the LGBTQIA+ community according to Strid on the band’s official website, skyrockets along with a nitrous injection. Massed fist pumping pays a Bloodstock compliment to the Swedes. TFNO are not about to go quietly and serenely, there’s time for one more party.
Strid hugs and hi-fives the ‘flight crew’ he has invited up on stage and an onstage conga provides a catalyst for further in the arena itself during appropriately overblown closing number ‘West Ruth Ave’. The Orchestra, in their last festival slot of the summer, have served up primetime cheese with complimentary crackers, grapes, and wine and Bloodstock has devoured eagerly. It’s been a sunny disposition and it’s gone down a storm.
With yet another can of Guiness raised the frontman of US-Irish folk punksters Flogging Molly Dave King, a lovable rogue if there ever was one, exclaims “Cheers everybody!” It’s been a good while since King fronted hard rockers Fastway alongside “Fast” Eddie Clarke, but he appears right at home here at Bloodstock amongst the lush greenery of Catton Park.
Genre busting is the name of the game “Today we’re here at a metal festival, two weeks’ time we’re back in Birmingham at Moseley Folk Festival!” notes King with another Guinness in hand, well we wouldn’t want them getting warm, would we?
It’s fully three decades since King, along with violinist Bridget Regan, formed Flogging Molly, in Los Angeles. Seven albums later and they’re still ripping up trees wherever they play, this afternoon at Bloodstock is no different. “A bit of sunshine for the redhead!” notes King adding “As my good friends at Monty Python said now for something completely different!”
With an arena bursting at the seams, the massed on-stage ranks launch into ‘Drunken Lullabies’, a hard accelerated take on ‘McAlpine’s Fusiliers’; more Dropkick Murphys than The Dubliners. It’s highly infectious, a contagion for which there is no known antidote with banjo, violin, accordion all bouncing along in the heady brew.
King et al are an unlikely a warm-up for Liverpudlians Carcass but the craic is top-notch and there’s jigging and carousing aplenty. ‘The Hand of John L. Sullivan’ is bright and merry that keeps the Celtic mayhem boiling along as do the rousing ‘A Song of Liberty’ and the nautical romp of ‘Tobacco Island’.
Dedicated to the people of County Wexford ‘The Croppy Boy ‘98’ is a slower folky stomp with tasty hints of Bluehorses woven about Fairport Convention and The Levellers. The fine Gaelic pageantry of ‘Float’ harks of Dropkick Murphys. A wild mosh pit salutes the boisterous ‘Devil’s Dance Floor’ and the arena jumps along, as demonstrated, to the haunting ‘Crushed (Hostile Nations)’.
The dedications continue with ‘If I Ever Leave This World Behind’ honouring Lemmy, Fast Eddie and Philthy Phil, “Let’s hear it for Motörhead!” roars King. The folky punk of the lengthily titled ‘These Times Have Got Me Drinking / Tripping Up The Stairs’ ensures that the party whips up a further furore. If this were a house party the fridge would’ve been emptied, and those part bottles of forgotten spirits would be shorn of their contents.
A tribute to King’s father ‘What’s Left of the Flag’ is an Irish lament and perfect early evening fare that brings out crowdsurfers aplenty. The totally madcap pirate themed ‘Seven Deadly Sins’ brings a riotous hour to an insanely good finale with a high-speed gambol as Flogging Molly bid ‘sláinte mhaith’. Nice one Bloodstock, a cracking divergent booking!
Bulldozing southwards from their Preston HQ revered British thrashers Xentrix have serious business to undertake. With fully 40 years’ service since former under the name Sweet Vengeance it’s the 35th anniversary of their debut release ‘Shattered Existence’ that came a year or so after changing their name to Xentrix.
What we get despatched for the following 45 minutes is the debut release in its entirety, in running order. Nine tracks of consummate strength, wave after unrelenting wave of uncompromising speed and power with guitarist/vocalist Jay Walsh upping the ante track on track. The moshing gets harder, and the fury increases as the set progresses.
There’s a circle pit whirling from the very first chords of ‘No Compromise’; it’s fast and frenzied and comparing this to early Metallica I ponder upon why so many of us, myself included, overlooked this fine band that is now regarded as one of the leading lights of the then underground British thrash scene.
‘Balance of Power’ unchains a punky Motörhead fringe, most apt given Lemmy’s presence, in its highly paced chuggage. It’s pure ol’ school thrash, a flashback to times much simpler as the coarse sandpapering buzz of ‘Crimes’ ensures an ascending trajectory is maintained on and off stage.
Full of resonant rumbling thunder ‘Back In The Real World’ sees relentless kinetics being employed; no messing Xentrix are seemingly keen to impress, the word is there is a new album in the offing. Behemothic speedster ‘Dark Enemy’ is brutalistic in its architecture with not one ounce of compromise in its DNA. There’s a twist of Anthrax’s ‘Spreading the Disease’ and ‘Indians’.
Founding members Kristian Havard (guitar) and Dennis Gasser (drums) are surely most happy to get their archives out to a new, enthusiastic audience all these years later. A 100% demonstration that quality never dies. ‘Bad Blood’ blends the early chapters of the Bay Area thrash into a puissant five minutes at full pelt.
Segueing seamlessly into ‘Reasons For Destruction’ the quadrumvirate remain in top gear as we head into the latter stages of ‘Shattered Existence’. It’s pure unadulterated thrash all the way, there’s no messing and most certainly no gimmicks.
None are required as ‘Position of Security’, and ‘Heaven Cent’ send in the wrecking ball for a few minutes more. “Another day, another dollar” muses Walsh in the latter quite reflectively. The ranks gathered in the Sophie tent are glad for another day in the company of Xentrix.
Back in March I was blessed with seeing Moldovan melodic nu-core metallic outfit Infected Rain at Bristol’s SWX venue opening for Amaranthe and Dragonforce. In only their second visit to England – their first was five years prior opening for Lacuna Coil and Eluveitie – they completely blew me away with the might of their control and preciseness; intricacy at the heart of a seething maelstrom.
With their stellar Bristol performance at the fore of my mind I’m, naturally, stoked to catch them upon their return for their first ever UK festival appearance. The melancholic intro ‘A SECOND OR A THOUSAND YEARS’ rolls a couple of minutes before the quartet advance upon the stage. Spectral currents eddy as the thaumaturge rides the surge. Are we the hunters or are we the bait; the question is posed by the detonation of ‘The Realm of Chaos’ as dense as Osmium with planetary heaviness it harnesses a strong gravitational pull.
Sadly, all doesn’t seem 100% as the band retreat to the drumkit to seemingly gather their collective composure. There’s an awkward feeling silence, as troublesome tech is sorted, before engaging vocalist Lena Scissorhands turns to greet the Sophie tent “Bloodstoooooock this is an enormous privilege!”
The rage resumes with the raw brutality of ‘PANDEMONIUM’; the band a blur in time with the rapid velocity of their output. Scissorhands sinks to her knees for the serene section; “Only chaos, chaos will prevail” she lilts. Alongside six-string shredding beast Vadim ‘Vidick’ Ojog is a haze of wildly rotating dreadlocks.
The tech issues return between tracks, something which plagues the remainder of the set and appears to be linked to the backing tapes judiciously employed by the band. Whilst not affecting the final product it does jarringly fragment the set a little. However, to the band’s combined credit they work their way through it without a single public complaint and their energy is not diminished in the slightest.
A tempestuous obsidian whirlpool ‘VIVARIUM’ brusquely handles a darkened undertow; this is an outfit who don’t just deliver aural delights but pack in one heck of a visual performance. Vidick, quite literally, kicks out the raging riffage and he fist bumps Lena as they retreat at track ending.
The all-action singer savours, for a brief moment, the reverence given by the Sophie ensemble. “Now I can feel you and not just hear you!” she screams in delight. The tornadic powerage of ‘Fighter’ waxes and wanes and in the downturned segments unseen apparitions swoop in for the kill; only those with a foresight will see them as their final seconds tick loudly as hourglasses empty. Sepultura and White Zombie broil together.
Molten white-hot rock spews from the fissure as the underworldly ‘THE ANSWER IS YOU’ ensures chaos reigns with circle and mosh pits opening up at will. Vidick physically hammers the notes from his guitar in a particularly thunderous ‘Orphan Soul’ prior to the high-kicking powerhouse of ‘The Earth Mantra’ frenzies ebulliently.
The ranks within the Sophie tent spring upwards into action for ‘DYING LIGHT’. Lena’s command is spellbinding however it’s in the next tracks that her stunning vocals shines the brightest. ‘NEVER TO RETURN’ hooked me first time in Bristol with the haunting likeness of Portishead’s Beth Gibbons immersed into the hurricane of Rage Against The Machine. Immense and still my personal favourite.
The mesmerising rage of ‘BECAUSE I LET YOU’, with its undercurrent of Evanescence, is loudly received in the same manner that each track is responded to. Bassist Alice Lane, in a moment of gentle support, puts her arm around Lena as they face Eugen Voluta’s drumkit as the track fades out.
An impressive circle pit, probably one of the largest I’ve witnessed in this stage, greets set-closer ‘Sweet, Sweet Lies’. “Move your lazy bums!” cajoles Lena as Bloodstock jumps, in unison, to one last command. In spite of the niggling issues between tracks it’s been a compelling despatch and one that has won the deserved applause from the B.O.A. crowd.
With a name derived from the fabled works of J.R.R. Tolkein Swedish melodic death metallers Amon Amarth have ‘terrorised’ audiences far and wide. With a pyrotechnical show that none has got even close to during this weekend it’s most apt that Amon Amarth is the Elvish name for Mount Doom. It’s the volcano where the One Ring was forged and the only place, thanks to the heat of its magma, where it can be destroyed. Well, that is until tonight’s despatch of fiery matter! Add B.O.A. 2024 to the list.
In the half light of the Derbyshire evening the moon, waxing towards halfness, rises whilst dusk continues to fall. The sun has given up and fallen behind the horizon. Ghost ships, phantoms of the oceans, glide through treacherous waters as the intro booms across Catton Park. Troops assemble beneath tattered sails that catch death’s own breeze.
Amon Amarth have certainly risen through the Bloodstock ranks since their first appearance, at the penultimate indoor event, in 2005 via their initial headlining slot on 2017’s Friday before taking the honour of closing this year’s main stage activities. The following 90 minutes flies past in a blur of clattering swords and shields in a set that spans most of their 32-year long career other than the first four of their dozen studio albums.
The expanse of the front drape descends and with a vigorous hammer blow ‘Raven’s Flight’ sets the ball rolling into 16 tracks rammed full of Nordic fury and Viking war-cries. The immensity of it all floors me; the scale is on a par with fellow Swedes Sabaton’s last visit to the UK.
No tanks but we do have drummer Jocke Wallgren’s kit sat atop a large horned helmet, the serpent Jörmungandr, son of Loki, dwells in one corner whilst large statuesque chess-like pieces rest upon the pummels of their swords, protectors of the sacred realms.
The music is powerful enough to not be lost amidst the theatrics of the overall production ‘Guardians of Asgaard’ harnesses the fury of the gods themselves. “It’s fucking awesome to be back!” roars the warrior vocalist Johan Hegg – one of three original members in the band alongside Olavi Mikkonnen (guitar) and Ted Lundström (bass) – reflecting upon the seven long years since AA last graced this stage.
The heavyweight Scandinavian outpouring of ‘The Pursuit of Vikings’ serves well as an appetiser for the appearance of the horned figure of Loke in ‘Deceiver of the Gods’ which, at times, verges upon thrash metal and ‘As Loke Falls’ a destructive force in hallowed halls.
Loke’s legion of glorious dead will march upon Asgard informs Hegg as way of introducing the call to arms of ‘Tattered Banners and Bloody Flags’. The battle worn romp ‘Heidrun’, provider of divine mead and sustainer of the fallen warrior, sees the band applaud B.O.A. after the track finishes. “You’re fucking loud!” exclaims Hegg.
‘War of the Gods’, an anthemic speed metal track, precedes what is considered a highlight of any Amon Amarth gig. ‘Put You Back Into The Oar’ sees a host of Viking warriors take to the barrier beating their shields as Bloodstock sets about the most serious business of some heavy-duty rowing! A Swedish flag flies bright in the dark airs as rowing ‘pits’ break out all about the arena. “You guys are fucking awesome!” salutes Hegg.
Armoured soldiers batter one another on stage in the Sabaton/HammerFall melding of ‘The Way of Vikings’; it’s pure theatre and all the better for it. This is why Amon Amarth are considered amongst leaders in the metal world, these Swedes certainly know how to put on a headline show!
Brimming with mist shrouded Norse mystique ‘Under the Northern Star’ leads into the closing chapters of this impressive performance. There’s a blistering scorched earth dynamic at work herein; a furrow ploughed striking, arrowlike, across the blackened soil. It rolls size 12 boots first into the rampage of ‘First Kill’ leaving the extremely unlikely question of where the hell did that large inflatable unicorn appear from as yet unanswered.
Warriors return to the stage for ‘Shield Wall’ after which the band raise horns with a carousing “Skol!” Hegg empties a super-sized horn emitting a most satisfied “Aaaaaahhhh!!” upon completion. ‘Raise Your Horns’ tramples all before it as the crowd is imperiously conducted by Hegg leaving just the encore coupling of ‘Crack The Sky’ and ‘Twilight of the Thunder God’ to ensure Bloodstock is sent Valhalla-wards completely satiated. The legions march with 2025 in their sights.
POSTSCRIPT – The following morning a convoy of 55 Harley Davidsons escorted the commemorative bust of Lemmy to its new home at Nottingham’s venerable Rock City venue. The bust will return to Catton Park for next year’s Bloodstock. Early bird tickets have already sold out and standard weekend tickets are flying out. Tickets are available here.
Photography by Pete Key & Artur Tarczewski for MPM
