Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
Ever the heavyweight haulier Rockharz trucks on through the halfway point of this year’s journey and into the end of the week and the festival’s third day.
This is truly a mixed goods freight-train delivery with expectation of its arrival at a truly lofty high. Awaiting today’s Rockharzers is a genuinely enlightening smorgasbord of metallic offerings.
One of the foremost the arriving wagons bears some good ol’ fashioned homeland metal in a 21st century enveloping; whilst some of the cargo towards the tail-end of the delivery is labelled black metal imported from Norwegian source. Amidst are containers from the US western seaboard containing streetwise crossover thrash and others bearing pacy Scandinavian symphonics and Scottish pirate booty. All in a day’s enterprise for the Rockharz festival team.
Above the festival site, to the south, the craggy ribs of the Großer Gegenstein and Kleiner Gegenstein – the south-eastern outliers of Teufelsmauer – glow in the warmth of the rising sun. Bearing testament, once again, that the nocturnal industry of Lucifer has fallen, defeated, to the crow of the morning’s cockerel. Three nights of partying is seemingly taking its toll; the campsite cracks open one eye, blurrily surveys the scene, rolls over and continues to slumber. All is quite subdued early AM.
Disgorging its precious cargo for the horde’s delectation the Dark Stage’s first band strides onto the expanses – no intro, no messing The Ruhr’s The Night Eternal, shortly before midday,plough directly into the eagle’s flight of ‘Between The Worlds’; the hard hitting closer of last year’s album ‘Fatale’. With his hands down by his sides impressive vocalist Ricardo Baum successfully, and subtly, encourages the crowd with movement of his fingers alone.
One track in and Baum’s mastering presence is already evident. Harnessing the energy that their home city of Essen, the headquarters of both E.On and RWE, is renowned for The Night Eternal roll straight into ‘In Tartarus’, the gothic transfused ‘Fatale’ opener with Celtic variegates darting through. Straight onto the highway with the fullest of revs, and a touch of the Scorpions, ‘Elysion (Take Me Over)’ gets the healthy sized crowd right onside.
Aptly rich in dark plenitude ‘Prince of Darkness’ snorts and snarls fiery breaths in a heavy metal frenzy before their debut album’s titular track ‘Moonlit Cross’ sends the scudding clouds packing into shreds of nothingness. With its Cult-ish fringe it wraps an action packed half hour leaving a great desire for more. A very neat discovery right at the start of our day.
Sadly, their forthcoming tour with Lucifer doesn’t reach the UK but if be sure to catch this quintet in action on one of the fourteen dates throughout November.
Our second band of the day and another fantastic discovery of an outfit completely unknown to ourselves. Ahead of releasing their second album ‘Galvanize’ in October League of Distortion are hellbent on impressing a homeland crowd in their allotted 30 minutes.
With a blaring intro heralding their assembly silver-shirted drummer Tino ‘Aeon’ Calmbach gleefully throws his arms up before he heads towards his kit. Guitarist Jim ‘Arro’ Müller (also of fellow Napalm Record labelmates Kissin’ Dynamite), bassist Felix ‘Ax’ Rehmann and then vocalist Anna ‘Ace’ Brunner (Exit Eden) follow.
The quartet follow The Night Eternal’s more trad metal delivery with a modern slab of alt metal woven with a good degree of ‘back in the day’ nu metal along with some coruscant symphonic elements. It’s a delivery that come the last notes of signature, and closing, track ‘L.O.D.’ – incidentally the first of at least four tracks during the day that reflect the performing band’s name – leaves me somewhat stunned and, once more, desiring further.
Six of their seven tracks are drawn from their eponymous debut long-player of 2022 with the symphonic permeate of album-opener ‘Wolf or Lamb’, a number that draws upon a brew of Halestorm and Infected Rain, a particular personal highlight in which Ace dons a Red Riding Hood cloak as a symbolic white butterfly drifts past me. ‘My Revenge’, kicking off matters, is razor-sharp taking no prisoners in its pulsating four minutes of genre blending. “Are you ready?” asks Ace before advancing “Or did you pack up for my revenge?” the catalyst for the band going on the offensive with the goal of setting fire to the sun itself.
Solar arson continues into the rasping rage of ‘Solitary Confinement’ with its plague level contagion, arcane in its capturing of tombs. Tempestuous sirens draw us closer in latest single ‘My Hate Will Go On’, a convincing statement afore the release of ‘Galvanize’. The rapped intro of buzzsawing ‘It Hurts So Good’ reminds me, for a brief moment, of a twisted metalliferous Falco, as the dark lyrics appear to tackle the difficult subject of self-harming.
‘I’m A Bitch’, the filling between ‘Wolf or Lamb’ and ‘L.O.D.’, with its Middle Eastern inspirations is very well received. Its closing line sneering “I’m a bitch, right?” Ace cuts a Lzzy Hale figure. The tiger slashes through the ether and cuts deeply here at Rockharz in the most arresting manner possible. Another band most definitely in the ones to watch carefully category going forwards.
Rockharz’s first ‘imported’ goods of the day comes early on in the considerable form of Norwegian five-piece Spidergawd. These five Norsemen of the rock-o-lypse, with seven albums in a ten-year period, are as hard working as they are hard rocking. Hailing from Trondheim, historically used as the seat of Norway’s monarchy, there’s an appropriate regalness herein.
The first thing to strike upon their gathering on stage is the imposing presence of a baritone saxophone courtesy of Rolf Martin Snustad. The speedy prog tones of the arenaceous ‘The Tower’ sees Snustad’s outpourings enwrapping about the bass rhythms of Hallvard Gaardløs and bridging towards the sharp six-stringing of Brynjar Takle Ohr and Per Borten. Immediately I’m struck with a reminder of a ratcheted-up version of UK progsters Empyre.
‘Your Heritage’ leans heavily towards Rush as does the highly illuminating ‘Sands of Time’ however with a neat twist redolent of The Members punk classic ‘The Sound of the Suburbs’. Further classic prog influences pop above the parapets in the Pink Floyd fringed ‘Heaven Comes Tomorrow’ that melds Thin Lizzy and Dio into the galloping mix.
Punk dynamics come to light with ‘What You Have Become’ dunking The Ramones into a steaming mug full of delights such as Girlschool and Iron Maiden. With so many influences flitting in and out there’s always a possibility of things unravelling but Spidergawd are of sterner stuff keeping a firm hand upon the tiller and navigating their way successfully to their own, identifiable DNA.
The swift demonics of ‘Do I Need A Doctor?’ lead into the rollicking stampede of ‘All and Everything’ that Snustad brings in with a melancholic feel. The skies above, whilst mainly grey bear some hope with fragments of blue. Closing number ‘Is This Love..?’ thunders into the cataclysm with a proud ferocity bringing a powerful end to a captivating 45 minutes.
Should comparisons be required then consider a 21st century Rush. However, in all reality be prepared to cogitate upon this being a uniquely Spidergawd vision of technicality and intricate compositions and thus making the world a better place for it.
Keeping the variance maintained at a precariously elevated level Boston metalcore bunch Unearth detonate vigorously after entering Rockharz to an extremely unlikely intro. I challenge you, our treasured readers, to have a think of a candidate. Did you get Huey Lewis and The News’ charismatic blue-eyed smash single ‘The Power of Love’? Congratulations if you did and back to the future you go!
The surfingly breezy chimes of their intro give way, to jarringly good effect, to the heavy, uncompromising onslaught of ‘Incinerate’. A fervour is whipped with an eager and compliant Rockharz infield responding to vocalist, and co-founder, Trevor Phipps’ insistence upon get an early doors circle rotating. Guitarist Buz McGrath, the other co-founder in the ranks, nails a fire wielding solo sending sparks into the mid-afternoon airs.
I must confess that despite formation at the tail-end of the 90s and releasing eight albums since these Massachusettsans are completely unknown to me and at the end of a pulverising three quarters of an hour leave me wondering why on earth I hadn’t got into them before. It’s evident that there’s much catching up to do!
Barbarous in its savagery cyclopean ‘The Wretched, The Ruinous’ is compelling in its everlasting shadows. Horns reverently aloft Rockharz chants “No heroes” consolidated in unity. The rapid-fire ‘Giles’ tenderises Rockharz in a rather pleasant manner with its temporal strikes. “I see a circle pit in you!” encourages Phipps advancing “I want it bigger, schnell, faster!” A seething mass of humanity ensues.
A heavy-footed beast the rapid circle never ends as ‘Endless’ maintains obliteration levels. The sun breaks through in (what I believe is) ‘This Lying World’ as a knee to the nether regions is bluntly applied. It’s remorseless in its bearish approach just what Rockharz ordered. The arena is lost in the moment.
The full-frontal vicious assault of ‘Mother Betrayal’ is dedicated, by Phipps, to “All my friends out there!” Whilst, clearly stoked to be sharing the Rockharz stages with them, the darkened thrash of ‘The Great Dividers’ goes out to Suicidal Tendencies.
Breaking out of the subterranean dungeons the thrashing melodics of ‘My Will Be Done’ leads into assertive set-closer ‘Black Hearts Now Reign’. A crowd surfer triumphantly punches the air as he goes over the barrier in a nutshell summing up the majorly positive imprint Unearth leaves upon the festival.
At face value five vocalists and a lone drummer doesn’t strike the target when the necessary components for a rock/metal band are given due consideration. However, this is where German outfit Van Canto goes against the grain. On their official website they describe themselves thus “All instruments that are played in normal metal bands are played by us, sung. Bass, guitars, solos, keyboard pads.”
Up until recently the ranks of Van Canto have had the presence of bass vocalist Jan Moritz. Sadly, as explained in a statement a few weeks prior, the dialysis required as a result of chronic kidney disease is limiting his mobility and as such his participation in the band. It’s surely a body blow for Moritz and his bandmates but Van Canto have regrouped for their summer of festival appearances.
Orchestral thunder rumbles across the Rockharz infield as the sextet take their on-stage stations in readiness for their opening manoeuvre ‘Dead By Night’. Doused in Scandinavian-styled symphonic metal its rousing message stirs the arena into action swiftly. VC linger in the domain of their most recent release – 2021’s ‘To The Power of Eight – with the nautically-fringed speedy metal escapade ‘Faith Focus Finish’.
If crowd-surfers alone are a measurable barometer of how things are going, then VC can be assured they’re going down a proverbial storm. It’s hard to fathom that apart from Bastian Emig’s rock solid percussion there are no other instruments at play herein.
Emig’s foundation provides the support to the ‘guitar’ vocals of Stefan Schmidt and Ross Thompson and Ingo ‘Ike’ Sterzinger’s ‘bass’ accompaniment. All of which bridge across the expanse to the lead vocals of crystalline Inga Scharf and smoky Hagen ‘Hagel’ Hirschmann. It’s a beguiling outpouring that is compelling and bewitching in equal measure. If the Sirens had reached these levels, then nautical endeavours would have been at serious risk of cessation.
‘To Sing a Metal Song’ is a biopic of sorts and a stirring middle fingered salute to conformity. “I got the balls to live my life” so the song goes, can’t argue with that! The Rockharz choir are right on-point singing “One for all, all for one!” in lusty musketeering finery.
Getting on with the business end of things Van Canto injects some of the covers they are renowned for commencing with the Gaelic pride of Grave Digger’s ‘Rebellion (The Clans Are Marching)’ bursting over the dam’s precipice. I espy my first demonstration of double-decker crowd surfing, it’s an impressive feat for sure.
Ross Tompson, having by now lost his trademark cap, gives a might thumbs up for a lengthy approving roar from a leather armoured gent immediately in front of me. Grinning broadly Wladimir turns to me and offers his ‘water of life’ bearing horn to drink from. These are the moments that make Rockharz stand out as a most special of places.
The delighting torrent flows into a stellar version of Nightwish’s ‘Wishmaster’ before Metallica’s ‘Master of Puppets’ is delivered as you’ve never heard it before! A fluorescent t-shirted surfer scatters confetti on his way to the barrier; it’s all in a day’s employ.
VC save their signature track for a final crescendo; the crowd go ape in the spellbinding incantation that can only be described as epic. A vision in emerald Maiden’s ‘Fear of the Dark’ does battle with the climatics. Hero metal a cappella! Rakka-Takka indeed, a momentous occasion of much magnitude.
Next up is a most eagerly anticipated and awaited set, one which I’ve labelled as unmissable. Back home in South Wales, upon invitation to this festival, a good friend and I scan the lineup. A name literally leaps off the poster at us. That name? One of Canada’s finest exports Unleash The Archers. We disappear down their ensorcelled rabbit-hole and a good number of hours later we’re still sat in his conservatory transfixed as we indulge in their progressive metallic satisfactions.
When guitar strings number seven on not one but two said items and bass strings are counted at six then one instantly is under the impression that a technical delight is about to be served up. What British Columbians Unleash The Archers despatches surpasses my wildest expectations.
Powerhouse vocalist Brittney Slayes could sing the telephone directory and still leave me transfixed with her lucent crystalline voice. Ahead of her arrival the axe twinning of Grant Truesdell and Andrew Kingsley Saunders along with bassist Nick Miller gather about drummer Scott Buchanan’s kit.
Rockharz claps along to the reverberating intro; in really good numbers even with the important matter of the home nation taking on rivals Spain in the quarterfinals of some tournament about to kick-off. With a “Wassup Rockharz” greeting Slayes appears as UTA’s longest-lived lineup dishes up the starting course in the shape of the title track of 2020’s ‘Abyss’.
This could so easily be a Swedish band such is the intricacy of their weaving of symphonic, speed, and melodic constituents into a traditional framework. The battle cry of ‘Soulbound’ is a proggish majesty whilst ‘Ghosts In The Mist’ soars a triumphant trajectory in the early evening sunlight.
This date is the first of several European festival appearances, including Wacken and Bloodstock, ahead of touring the US as special guests to German power metallers Powerwolf for UTA. Having just completed a tour through Australia and New Zealand they’d be forgiven for seeming road worn but there are no signs visible as they tear through the prog speed metal of ‘Green & Glass’.
Slayes express the band’s gratitude for all gathered for eschewing the attractions of “the soccer game, sorry football!” The furious ‘Awakening’ hits the accelerator hard as UTA hasten down the autobahn, a whole new world awaits. Coupling alongside ‘The Matriarch’ emits a bloodletting acclamation; the twin six-stringing of Saunders and Truesdell a standout.
There’s further gears to ascend through as UTA hit a supersonic charge in the galloping warp of ‘Tonight We Ride’ with its nod towards an accelerated Evanescence. Their set is over in the merest blink of an eye as they deservedly ascend to the highest plinth of the podium.
If one hadn’t guessed it by now it’s the mantra of Rockharz to ensure that the rock n’ roll river twists and turns at every possible juncture. Leading towards the broadest of altars at which one can worship in the glory of the wide range of rock and metal on offer there’s definitely something for everyone.
Taking myself back to being a teenager in the 80s, when the likes of Bon Jovi and Mötley Crüe reigned supreme, glam metal outfit Kissin’ Dynamite are rightfully unashamed in their influences. Introducing the band after a couple of numbers extravagant frontman Johannes ‘Hannes’ Braun states “We bring back stadium rock!” At the end of a near hour-long set there’s not a solitary dissenting voice to be heard to argue this point.
Formed back in 2007 whilst at school this all-action band retain the same line-up nearly two decades later. The flamboyant Braun revels in the adulation of the packed Rockharz arena who are as keen as the band to celebrate the release, today, of latest album ‘Back With A Bang’. Seven days later KD, battling with the likes of Taylor Swift and Billie Ellish, achieve their stated dream of going one better than 2022’s ‘Not The End of the Road’ and topping the Official German Album Charts; rock is far, far from dead!
The selection of intro music is apt with the band taking positions to Poison’s feelgood anthem ‘Nothin’ But A Good Time’. A mission statement that is firmly upheld throughout each and every single one of the eleven tracks that follow. They’ve brought an impressive stage production with them including an illuminated backdrop formed of the band’s initials, which rises above drummer Andi Schnitzer’s lofty station, and an array of extra lighting and platforms which are utilised to their fullest extent.
Hannes remains atop the risers for the initial stages of extremely hooky set-opener ‘No One Dies A Virgin’ whilst the trio of Hannes’ guitaring brother Ande and his fellow axeman Jim Müller and bringer of the low-end Steffen Haile assault the frontline of the stage from the off. It’s good time rock n’ roll, bright and sparkling bringing the party right to this corner of Germany.
Holy mother in the gutter what a start but according to the incendiary ‘I’ve Got The Fire’ that follows “Helldorado is my goal”. There’s a confident energy employed as the crowd are worked into a frenzy by this infectious hard rocker. On an aside apparently, it’s goalless at halftime in the quarter final.
The first inspection of the new album comes in the coruscant shape of ‘My Monster’. Bringing in touches of Vega and The New Roses this quintet is the 21st century heirs apparent of 80s Hair/Sleaze Metal. They’re instantly accessible with a king-sized hook that snares and envelops with aplomb; that combined with a high-level of quality and showmanship is a surefire recipe for success.
‘Sex is War’, a tempestuous mania, harkens back to 2012’s ‘Money, Sex and Power’ album with its quickfire lyrics and shimmering fretwork from Müller. In a set that spans the majority of their career it matters not one jot whether the band dips into the back catalogue or launches a new rocket. The end result is the same whatever, an infield rocking out and dancing along as is no-one is watching.
Clear crowd favourite ‘Only The Dead’ gets the entire arena jumping along with its stadium filling rock; Hannes, on bended knee, at track end shakes his head seemingly in disbelief at the extent of the positivity and outpouring of Rockharz love. ‘The Devil is a Woman’ rolls the likes of Poison, Def Leppard, and Great White into a wondrous singular slab of hard rocking.
A force ten regality Hannes, red cape, and throne, et al catapults ‘I Will Be King’; Spain are a goal up but no-one around me in the arena seems to be that bothered. It’s all about the rock n’ roll here and KD are serving up bombastic doses as well as Kiss in their pomp.
Hannes leans on Haile’s shoulder during an emphatic ‘DNA’. Rockharz are firmly planted in KD’s collective palm, lapping up every compelling moment. As the sun lights up clouds to the west evening draws in the arena entranced and completely under the influence are treated as kings and queens for a day in ‘You’re Not Alone’. Hopping aboard an inflatable dinghy Hannes surfs out into the crowd distributing flyers, anything is possible!
Running over ten minutes past their scheduled timing Kissin’ Dynamite thunderously deliver a further two songs, even the production crew are swept along as Rockharz is treated to ‘Not The End of the Road’ and ‘Raise Your Glass’. The set-ending latter, with its Kid Rock / Bryan Adams vibrancy, takes the arena on, as per the lyrics, “a rollercoaster ride” proving that “the best is yet to come.”
I can safely confirm that KD are 110% back with a bang! Be sure to catch them on their forthcoming European tour with special guests Massive Wagons.
The rapidly flowing Rockharz river of molten rock switches direction once more now veering into the crossover thrash of American legends Suicidal Tendencies. Founded in Venice, Californian back in 1980 they are the senior outfit on today’s lineup but possess, right through their ranks, the dynamics of much more youthful ensembles.
This stripling approach in terms of energy seeps through, pre-set, to the crowd with the gathered ranks chanting “Suicidal Tendencies”. The masses eager to catch this legacy act make their Rockharz debut in what is a rare post-Covid appearance in Germany. With sole surviving founding member Mike Muir at the helm, over the course of 40 plus years, ST has been somewhat of a revolving door with over 25 different lineups and band members totalling well into the thirties.
Musical borders are there to be smashed through and ST have certainly done this over the decades, alloying a potion of metal, punk, skating ethos, and thrash with a streetwise hardcore attitude. A formula that has served them well.
The band bound on to the stage with Muir enquiring “Are you motherfucking ready?” The fuse wire reaches its end as Muir, a walking advert for all things ST, ponders “What the fuck is going on?” The signal of rage to unleash the pent-up fury of ‘You Can’t Bring Me Down’.
The Western seaboard skater thrash pummels headlong into the hive of frenetic activity that is ‘War Inside My Head’. Muir stomps about the entirety of the stage engaging with the crowd, one of the most expressive fronts I’ve witnessed. He doesn’t have sole exclusivity on the elevated level of kinetics however as rhythm guitarist Ben Weinman hi-kicks his way through the set, leaping about as if a feline upon a white-hot tin roof. Bassist Tye Trujillo – the son of former ST bassist and current Metallica low-ender Robert Trujillo – whirls about, gaining ‘air’ with consummate ease.
With just 60 minutes to squeeze in over four decades into a meaningful production ST can be wholeheartedly forgiven for, on the whole, playing it safe dedicating the hour to core staples such as the Stooges-fringed ‘Subliminal’ and the ‘boarding urgency of ‘Possessed to Skate’.
Heading back to their eponymous debut album for ‘Memories of Tomorrow’ ST powerfully reflect on their beginnings before ushering Rockharz into the inner sanctum of the Church of Suicidal within ‘Send Me Your Money’ a singed swipe at US preachers. The crowd go wild for the hyper speed of ‘Freedumb’, a three-minute Anthrax-infused thrasher.
A whirlpool of thrashing on-stage and in the moshing pit ‘Cyco Vision’ is a whole new level of batshit crazy, upping the ante further. ‘I Saw Your Mummy’ takes the previously mentioned Stooges influences into a feral roar from the untamed wilderness with the band indulging in a spot of parkour.
The gentle intro of ‘How Will I Laugh Tomorrow’ is ST’s ‘Fear of the Dark’ moment before the moody atmospherics detonate rammed full of acrimonious acerbity. Long-standing guitarist Dean Pleasants nails a forceful solo in ‘Pledge Your Allegiance’ whilst Muir gets up close and personal with the crowd. As per their official website Suicidal Tendencies are “Still Cyco Punk after all these years!”
Having caught Swedish power metallers Amaranthe as the most particularly tasty filling between Infected Rain and Dragonforce at Bristol’s O2 Academy venue earlier in the year there’s absolutely nowhere else I wish to be when this six-piece introduces themselves to Rockharz.
As per their performance in Bristol Amaranthe cast a collective eye over six of their seven albums – only 2018’s ‘Helix’ misses out – in a career-spanning set. One that, bar a couple of tracks, mirrors the Bristol listing. Rammed to the brim, bursting at the seams with a blurring of trad metal with speed, symphonics, melodies and harmonies to die for all with a bouncing euro synth that ensures the very soul is enlivened and gets up to dance along!
Featuring a front-line of three engaging vocalists – Dynazty’s Nils Molin, Elize Ryd and Mikael Sehlin – who are equally capable of leading the line and harmonising with one another Amaranthe are a standout in the strengthy world of Swedish metal. It’s a potent draught with the first swig offered being the swift paced ‘Fearless’.
The tubthumping ‘Viral’ ensures an opening 1-2 from 2020’s ‘Manifest’ that, in part, nods towards fellow Swedes Ghost. Rockharz, readily hypnotized, clap along the infectiousness nature of the virus is most tangible. Undeniably Scandinavian ‘Digital World’ raises the spirits with its pummelling techno beats and metalliferous riffs a combination that, on the face of it, shouldn’t work but with a rare ingenuity applied it 100% does.
A slice of underpinning happy hardcore weaves itself about the glorious orchestral metallics in ‘Damnation Flame’; the first offering from this year’s release ‘The Catalyst’ snares Rockharz as hands wave side to side in the crowd.
Lyd sits upon the front of Morten Løwe Sørensen’s drum riser for the opening lines of the diamond quality of ‘Strong’ before standing shoulder to shoulder with Molin, raising each other’s hand at track end. Symphonic single only release ‘PvP’ firmly kicks posterior in a coruscant manner. Rolling unswervingly into a stormy showstopping ‘Maximise’.
Rising from the pyre ‘The Catalyst’ rouses. In the approaching dusk, along with ‘Re-Vision’, the overflowing treasure chest is raided to profound effect. Olof Mörck’s incandescent keys in signature track ‘Amaranthine’ is a photogenic Disney meets metal juncture. Soaring atop pinnacles high it is pulchritudinous serenity personified. Above her head Lyd forms a heart shape with her hands to salute the crowd.
A veritable stormbringer ‘The Nexus’ delivers a hefty punch possessing a magical quality. The fantastical ‘Archangel’ accelerates further before Ryd, donning a German scarf, endears herself to the crowd as she empathises with the football supporting percentage “We’re trying hard to make [tonight] a good one.”
Anthemic ‘That Song’ and the evergreen stomp of ‘Drop Dead Cynical’ bring a fine hour to an even finer conclusion. The gates of paradise have well and truly been opened. “Massive. Modern. Metal!” is the proclamation upon their official website. I can only but agree.
From the deep blue expanses of storm-tossed oceans and their inky depths comes the hearty landlubber-cursing pirate crew that sails under the crossed rum and ale banner of the good ship Alestorm. Well ok the rag-tag ensemble, in truth, come hollering from the banks of the River Tay in Perth, Scotland peddling their pirate-themed metal phenomenon worldwide.
Imagine the bastard offspring, admittedly as unlikely as it is, of Steel Panther and the Macc Lads transported across time to a period where pirateers wreaked havoc upon the waves. Oft foul-mouthed scurvy seadogs Alestorm love nothing more than drinking rum or beer, sometimes both and preferably not their own or indulging in nefarious acts of seaborne pillaging.
Billing themselves as ‘True Scottish Pirate Metal’ this is a salty outfit who are seriously focused upon maximum fun amidst a chaotic Brownian motion of folk-driven, sea shanty-ing, paganistic quaffing of ale metal sub-genre. It’s a niche that Alestorm have discovered and they’re cornering the market in defiant manner with a bright, yellow inflatable duck overlooking the whole shebang.
It’s pirate hell-up from the get-go with the Celtic wrecking ball of ‘Keelhauled’ firing a broadside that stimulates an intense hour of crowd-surfing (it’s seemingly a never-ending conveyer belt of humanity atop humanity) and moshing. The arena afront the Dark Stage is rammed to capacity and spills over into surrounding areas, such is the popularity of the Scots in these realms.
Come the end of a mayhemic set, as the dying notes of the jolly refrain ‘Fucked With an Anchor’ echo across the airfield Rockharz is completely knackered. The set-ending contagion ensures that the massed thousands will be singing those joyous words of the infectious chorus for days to come. The pair of giant ducks released into the crowd during the marauding ‘Drink’ bounce about into the wee hours.
Between these two neat bookends we’re taken off to the pirate haunts of ‘Uzbekistan’ and ‘Mexico’ and introduced to the charismatic Patty Gurdy and her hurdy gurdy during the buzzsawing madness of ‘Voyage of the Dead Marauder’ and later on the undead stomp of ‘Zombies Ate My Pirate Ship’.
After their allocated three tracks in the photographic pit the ‘togs are bid farewell after the rapid thrashing of ‘Alestorm’. “Bye, bye photographers, thanks for being photographers!” quips lead vocalist, and keytarist, Chris Bowes.
‘Under Blackened Banners’, from the comically titled ‘Seventh Rum of a Seventh Rum’, is a sea-shanty in heavy metal guise. It’s all tongue firmly inserted in cheek with ‘Big Ship, Little Ship’ (not forgetting the ubiquitous cardboard box) guarantees the ‘P.A.R.T.Y.’ is in full swing carrying into ‘Shit Boat (No Fans)’. All that’s missing, in truth, is a version of the bawdy ‘Friggin’ in the Rigging’. It’s pirate perfection and Rockharz has loved drinking up every last drop.
If there could be a larger contrast between two bands at a festival, I’m not sure I’ve experienced one such as the gulf that exists between Alestorm and the darkened, obsidian symphonic death metal from mysterious Norwegians Dimmu Borgir. Come the end of 80 minutes of crepuscular shadowy and spellbinding brutishness I’m left wondering, not for the first time over not just today but the preceding two also, why on earth I didn’t catch hold of this incantation first time around.
Huge swathes of mist swirl menacingly as the intro ‘Det nye riket’ rolls. Through arched stone doorways, amongst ruinous pillars the nightmare unravels. Grotesque gargoyles and horrific hunky punks stare forlornly at the scene unfolding below. Rock begins to turn to dust, and the mood descends in the direction of the catacombs.
The opening number – my Norwegian is zero and until this evening so is my knowledge of this fine band – is, I believe, ‘Raabjørn speiler draugheimens skodde’. Its heraldic triumph is majestic whilst its low-end rumbles densely gutterally ripping at the chest cavity. The band, fronted by the demonic presence of Shagrath, uniformly cowled tread through this doomy stomp with abundant dystopian pleasure.
‘Spellbound (by the Devil)’ is fast, extremely fast. It chases hither and tither, herding those in its path into the murky depths of Cimmerian shades. This is a Norwegian take of an extreme symphonic blend Sabbath and Orange Goblin. The demonic spawn spew forth unrelenting and devoid of mercy from the fissured abyss in the brutalistic bludgeoning of ‘The Insight and the Catharsis’.
‘Stormblåst’, as dark as the crypt, follows as the midnight hour approaches. Warp speed Sabbath rears its head in ‘The Chosen Legacy’ whilst the four horsemen of the apocalypse ride out in the cannonade of ‘Ætheric’. Beholden the fires of industrial denizens burn within ‘Council of Wolves and Snakes’, Hades eternal.
The Devil’s Wall literally burns under the onslaught of ‘Dimmu Borgir’, molten the rock flows through the classical interlude of ‘Fear and Wonder’. The lone poppy in the scars of the wasteland left from the fiery battlefield; the devil’s artillery has wreaked its will. The behemothic leviathan ‘Progenies of the Great Apocalypse’ crushes all in its terrifying path, blackened metal in its regal finery.
The satanic broth of ‘Mourning Palace’ brings a close to a truly compelling spectacle. The final strike of the blade across the night sky. It’s been pure theatrics with a savage, brutal imagery, and sound but one I’ve been drawn into most willingly. Completely new to this dimension Dimmu Borgir have royally entertained and enthralled me, I leave suitably impressed and quite unexpectedly a fan.
Day three of Rockharz, for us, is complete. The degree of variance throughout is scintillating providing a wide angled lens perspective upon metal and rock. This is a festival rich in diversity and one which now holds a special place in our hearts and souls.
Photography by Kelly Spiller for MPM
