Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
With the limbering up of the opening day of this year’s edition of Rockharz completed in the most successful of fashions the festival now undergoes a full stretch to an even fuller day of metal fury. From nine bands to a much fuller fifteen can only mean one thing and that is a much earlier call to the starting line.
Bleary eyes, as is the standard for the first morning after the night before, look to the heavens to be greeted by a spot of most welcome sunshine. There’s just a handful of white wispy clouds to break the blue above. A stiff breeze whips across the arena providing helpful assistance in drying the few remaining remnants of yesterday’s pre-opening deluge.
The Teufelsmauer glows resplendently coaxing a steady stream of metal ‘pilgrims’, a high percentage attempting to clear the excesses of day one no doubt, to its razorbacked summit. Somewhere out in the vast expanses of the festival site, if the rumours are to be believed, the Rockharz runners are doing their thing. Five kilometres prior to the gates opening from what I understand. Fair play to these hardy souls but I’ll pass on this occasion.
It’s a rightfully sizeable gathering afront the Dark Stage for day 2’s opening outfit. Hoping, at the maximum, for several hundred Rockharzers what Final Cry encounter when they step out onto the stage, to their complete astonishment, is measured in the thousands. It’s the largest ensemble I’ve witnessed for an opening band on any given day here at Ballenstedt, even surpassing the impressive numbers that gathered for Heavysaurus less than 24 hours previously.
The band clearly moved by this monumental display of support later express their sincere gratitude in a post-festival press release stating “The view of the infield made us shake our heads in disbelief! You have done us the honour in such large numbers!” furthering “You celebrated with us, moshed and sang with us, creating one of the most incredible opening parties the Teufelsmauer has ever witnessed on a Thursday lunchtime.”
A keyed folky metal intro (the instrumental ‘Brotherhood Of The Rope’) ushers the band from the side-stage shadows; the five elements emerging to loud cheers reserved for homecoming heroes. They’re a localish band formed in Lower Saxony just a couple of hours to the west and are fronted by a familiar face in the ever-affable form of Kai Wilhelm, Rockharz’s press and media officer.
The accelerator is pressed through the metaphorical floor from the very off with the super celerity of old-school thrasher ‘Dominion of Decay’ lighting the ignition. Cajoled by Wilhlem Rockharz chant repeatedly with roars of “Hey, hey!” We’re into the last moments of the morning but a heavy darkness is willingly permitted to descend with the title track of the band’s most recent album ‘The Ever-Rest’ pummelling the arena.
The sparking hooves of Satan’s herd quake the Brocken in the atramentous atmosphere of ‘The Beckoning Silence’. It’s mid-track thrashing possesses a neo-classical vibrancy as the band veer into melodic death metal realms. The powerhouse ‘Down The Icefall’ completes the tripled inspection of ‘The Ever-Rest’ as electrical currents surge vividly.
The glacier advances with, in its wake, adjoining valleys left hanging and protruding spurs truncated. There is a form of fascination of the power of ice herein with the moshtastic ‘On Glacial Trails’ whipping up a circle mosh pit that wheels about. The heavy calibre artillery shell of ‘Walk with the Dead’ as the multi-headed Cerebus is untethered to roam with abandon. It’s an intoxicating broth that captivates with a hypnotic undertow of leviathan proportions that creates a mighty conclusion to an imperious half hour.
Formed in Tokyo nearly a decade ago this year sees the first incursions of far-Eastern melodic metallers Hagane into the European market. Following on from April’s debut at Denmark’s Epic Fest – a performance that garnered positive reviews along with a return for next year’s chapter – this afternoon is the band’s first visit to Germany and the nerves are clearly noticeable.
With the skies above clouding over a bit a heraldic superhero intro accompanies the quartet’s arrival. One at a time they appear to the cheers of an expectant, and largely male, crowd. First drummer JUNNA, then bassist Sayaka and founding guitarist Sakura appear before, last but by no means least, the flag-waving vocalist Nagi. Even at this very early juncture it’s abundantly clear that this will be a carefully choreographed performance.
For a brief moment the four-piece look like rabbits caught in the glare of headlights before they gather their composure and dive into the aptly titled opener ‘Start Our Journey’. I’m sure this is a moment for which the band have rehearsed and long imagined between themselves. However, even with all the best laid plans and preparation nothing can truly prepare for the immersion of stepping onto a large stage afront an even larger crowd.
Senses rapidly regrouped, to their credit, they set about the rapidly jabbing AOR / Power metal melodics of ‘Start Our Journey’. Its bright summeriness complements the lunchtime weather and, in an instant, Rockharz are firmly onside. Following on ‘Tengagoken’ (I believe) packs a neo-classical fringe with a Maiden-esque gallop. I had genuinely wanted to enjoy this moment but a combination of a weak delivery and a poor sound-mix, with the vocals too low, puts pay to this.
My interest sadly begins to wane as the ‘Babymetal’ effect begins to take hold. It’s all very glossy and high-pitched, I imagine that this would be the result if a collaboration between Marvel and Disney attempted to ‘do’ metal. The squeaky-clean despatch comes across somewhat contrived, and I desperately want the band to tear free from the restraining shackles that are preventing them from ‘letting rip’. Don’t get me wrong, these words are not a sleight upon the band’s talents; they’re clearly technically gifted in musical terms but, to me, they lack both a punch and a great deal of soul.
Drawing influences from the like of Helloween and DragonForce ‘Kagome’ immerses the crowd in an anime realm whilst the spikiness of ‘Hero Time’ teleports back to a time of Saturday morning flamboyant He-Man cartoons. ‘We Are The Knight’, a speedy V8 powered entity, represents the solitary visit of the soon-to-be released EP ‘Metal Quest’. Sharp and precise ‘Life goes on!’ rounds off Hagane’s set featuring Sakura’s two-handed fretwork and razor-sharp harmonies.
Whilst this scribe didn’t exactly get hooked by Hagane it’s most evident that a whole host of new fans have been won over this afternoon. As individuals they possess much talent and as a collective there’s the potential to ascend to higher levels. However, whether they rise to Babymetal heights remains to be seen.
Switching from the Rock Stage to the neighbouring Dark Stage Göttingen Neue Deutsche Härte quadrumvirate Stahlmann provides a much-required shift in direction and the prescribed antidote to Disney / Marvel metal. There’s a sense of impending doom, with an ominously droning intro, pervading the air; dry ice makes a valiant, yet ultimately abortive, exertion to billow before the stiff breeze emanating from the direction of the Brocken and the Harz heartlands swiftly disperses it.
Ever since encountering Oomph! here a couple of years ago I’ve been enamoured with NDH sound; sure, I knew the Rammstein sound but never realised there was a whole crossover sub-genre around it. It’s an introduction, amongst many, that I’ll be forever grateful to Rockharz for. I’m somewhat hyped for the following 40 minutes as the shadowy figures, both cowled and masked, of guitarist Mario and bassist Eugen appear red smoke flares in hand.
Bone-crunching forces assiduously fuse electro-industrial energies in a metalliferous melting pot as the NDH finery of ‘Ohne Helligen Schein’ – the opening number of this year’s ‘Schwarz Wie Der Tod’ long-playing release – sets a glorious cacotopian scene. Enigmatic vocalist Mart Soer, the band’s founding and creative driving force, compels the arena to clap along with the assiduous ‘Adrenalin’. Rockharz is, naturally, fully compliant as touches of what feels like Falco’s ‘Rock Me Amadeus’ skittering through mayhemic brew that inhabits the conflagrant cauldron.
Channelling an output of an alloying of Rammstein and Oomph! ‘Hass mich … lieb mich’ enthrals. Seismic forces interact in uplifting manner as the Rockharz ensemble venomously chant “Hass mich!” Feeding into the rockcrusher ‘Der Schmied’ emanates a Marilyn Manson vibe that provides seismic uplifting. The arena crowd are led to demonic worship as a pair of ghouls, each bearing crosses about their necks, drop down upon bended knee during the compelling enthral of ‘Engel der Dunkelheit’.
The acerbic riffage of ‘Schwarz’ explodes with hammer blows raining down aplenty. With a techno fringe we’re all captive to the hook of ‘Plasma’; it’s a heady contagion set in a dystopian setting. Soer counts into ‘Tanzmaschine’ with Eugen and Mario flanking; all are motionless as they gather about Keylipp Dallmann’s drum riser. Bursting into motion there’s a broiling concoction of Depeche Mode and Gary Numan thrown into the mix for measure.
The pounding behemothic ‘Süchtig’ provides the final conquering pulverisation. One that is despatched in commanding and uncompromising fashion to great approval. The riffage and percussives are destructive whilst donning an industrial, gothic fiery plumage. I’m addicted to the output and there’s the thrill of another wonderful discovery to return to Wales with.
Last summer, in the riparian Derbyshire setting that Bloodstock calls home, a quintet of scantily clad nuns tore the festival’s Sophie Lancaster Stage from seam to seam. In the days and weeks following their UK debut it appeared that Dogma had the world seemingly at their feet. A full UK tour was announced receiving a hugely positive reception but not too long after cavernous cracks began to appear in the band’s carefully crafted face-painted exterior.
Quite incredibly, in a bolt from the blue, not one but three members quit the band simultaneously. Blowing apart the overriding foundation of anonymity of the troupe the exited trio put their names to a joint statement alleging “broken promises, manipulation, mistreatment, and lies to the fans.” A counterstatement from the band’s management was, eventually, forthcoming amidst a veritable shitstorm of venting on social media from past members and those claiming to have been auditioned for roles in the lineup. The management’s words failed to tackle any of the allegations point by point rather electing to provide a rather bland message of the show must go on.
I try to put this to one side but it’s with a huge amount of trepidation that I take my place in front of the Dark Stage to see where things lie and to garner where, if anywhere, the band is heading. Taken in isolation the music is good, really good in fact; a blend of Ghost and Powerwolf with a healthy-sized dollop of mid 80s Los Angeles glam metal for good measure. To be honest pre-implosion it had me hooked; it’s going to be interested if there’s any degree of reconnection.
Tortured, anguished cries emanate from the ruptured tomb, a fire somewhere in the catacombs beneath crackles angrily. With striking components of two of the biggest symph metal bands – Ghost and Powerwolf – the set opener ‘Forbidden Zone’ blends a low-end that convincingly threatens to rip out organs one by one in a most selective of disembowelment. It’s the third of four singles released prior to the eponymous debut album.
The delivery is neatly and suggestively put together but I’m not feeling an adrenaline rush for which I had hoped. I fear that all the exposure of the tail end of last year have proven to be symbolic actions that have indeed dissipated the once cogent spell. The bass growls and guitar snarls in an eerie ‘My First Peak’. Gremlins rear their ugly heads as an awful sound mix hampers proceedings. The vocal levels are muted with a low-end too prominent.
The seductive up-tempo ‘Made Her Mine’ quakes with its heavy trucking lines but the sound issues continue to persist. Some things are naturally cursed it would seem. With haunting nursery chimes giving way to a wailing symphonic kinetic the shredding twin guitaring endure through moments of clarity in the sound mix when the lower end disengages during ‘Fate Unblinds’. The irony in the track’s final line “Expose the truth the light will bring” is overwhelming from where I’m stood.
The heavy arsed motoring of ‘Carnal Liberation’ should be impactful but it’s lacking that anticipated spark for me. Worryingly my conclusions are drawing close with the set barely at its halfway point. Released just a week ago ‘My Matricidal’ unleashes the melancholic torment of multiple demons; perhaps the band’s saving grace awaits in the newer material. It’s the best track so far and for the first time I feel somewhat at ease with this newer chapter.
A souped-up version of Madonna’s ‘Like a Prayer’ sees the sound quality improve dramatically in time to shine a spotlight upon a twin guitar solo whilst the bassist prowls as svelte as the midnight panther. Things get going properly with the first ever single ‘Father I Have Sinned’ (all four singles that preceded album number one have been aired this afternoon); this track, one I consider to be the band’s signature, has been given a heavy as heck injection and is even hookier for it.
All dusky tones and cathedral bell strikes ‘Pleasure From Pain’ riffs like a madman with a harum-scarum attitude. If Doro fronted Judas Priest, this could well have been the resultant output; metal right out of the NWOBHM drawer. It’s not for a lack of effort but the striking impact this track should have is oddly absent.
The closing number is, quite aptly, the final number of the sole album release to date. The polished theatrics at the very heart of Dogma’s performance continue to the final notes but has this had an effect upon any spontaneity? Rockharz doesn’t seem to be bothered as the arena connects readily as the symphonic overture of ‘The Dark Messiah’ is unleashed. Time, as they say, is a healer and it’s evident that there’s much in the way of restorative processes that are required if this band are to realise those pre-controversies potentials.
This current lineup has come into this situation with eyes wide open and hopefully without any rose-tinted expectations. To their credit this afternoon has been a challenge on several levels, but they haven’t shirked the collective burden and have received the warmth of the Rockharz faithful. Much does lie in the forthcoming album and how the new material is utilised. Did someone mention that ‘difficult’ second album?
If the punch was somewhat absent in the previous, then the next act strike with a fury normally reserved for an entire battalion not just a quintet. Before this festival Finnish metallers Warmen were an unknown quantity to myself, but a singular listen to them whilst parked up in Wernigerode’s stellplatz a couple of nights ago and I’m ensnared.
Formed back at the tail of end of the last century as a solo project by Children of Bodom’s keyboardist Janne ‘Warmen’ Wirman this concept grew into the fully-fledged band we see here before us this afternoon. Clouds menacingly lurk all about but thankfully any rain is held at bay. With no fanfare the band arrive on stage and head straight into the business end of matters.
A thrasher in the vein of Kreator and Overkill opening manoeuvre ‘Night Terrors’ packs a classically themed melodic the sparkles and dances like a firefly amidst the overriding maelstrom. Clenched fists punch the air at the behest of bassist Jyri Helko whilst frontman Petri Lindroos pours out the rage. The latter is a busy individual seen fronting Ensiferum less than 24 hours previous.
The rasping rough-edged ‘The Driving Force’, like the first track craned in from 2023’s ‘Here For None’, is all-out speed and fury. Wirman’s angled keys shimmer in stark contrast to the overall dense impacting. With a switch of album, to last year’s poignant ‘Band of Brothers’, we get to feast upon the piquant melodic of ‘Nine Lives’ that darts in between the barbs of a delivery influenced, in part, by early Metallica. A circle pit opens up, and we will now get to see if Rockharz can compete with Tuska festival as per Wirman’s cajoling. The early signs are that this corner of Germany is up for a bit of competition. Outright ruin ensues.
Beneath moody, leaden skies Wirman’s notes skitter amidst the thundering avalanche of ‘When Doves Cry Blood. Support in the melodic department comes in the coruscant form of the guitaring of Wirman’s brother Antti and Lindroos as, from behind the keyboard, the older of the brothers gives a thumbs up of affirmation to the crowd.
With a sudden thunderclap commencement, as Lindroos roars the opening line “Reap what you sow”, the melodic death metal ‘One More Year’ lays waste to a large area. There’re tasty progressive morsels hither and tither and they bear hints towards the ilk of Opeth and Dimmu Borgir. Antti’s solo slithers gloriously through the epic proportions of the maelstrom.
One can be most glad that Antti was, ultimately, successful in persuading his older brother to return from his four-year self-imposed exile from music that followed the tragic ending of Children of Bodom in 2019. The fruits of that return largely, and quite rightfully, dominate Warmen’s set with all bar one of the chosen despatch being drawn from ‘Here For None’ and ‘Band of Brothers’ – the two albums that been released since.
Having inadvertently skipped ‘Untouched’, but not missed a single beat in the process, the band retrace their steps and discharge the track’s doomy contagion. Lindroos’ finger-tapping solo captivates as he urges Rockharz “Get that fucking pit going!” to good effect. The Finnish death metallers are in full flow for the unforgiving leviathan ‘Band of Brothers’. Crowd surfers get down to business as the pit moshes and circles below them.
I’m fully subscribed and totally immersed as the wrecking ball of ‘The End of the Line’ switches focus back to ‘Here For None’. It’s not all out brutality as tasty melodic nuances provide moments of sanctity from the crushing energies. ‘Warmen Are Here For None’ is a rallying call bar none with a Malmsteen-esque six-string solo providing an unexpected but most pleasant ambush. In the midst of all the chaos a pair of metalheads, with the assistance of the pit crew, surf backwards from the barrier. A novel way to get to the bar perhaps?
“Fuck yes you are beautiful” exclaims Janne and I make note that he and his cohorts have provided one of the surprises of the day and quite possibly the festival. With basslines and rhythms that readily open up chest cavities and extract innards ‘Hell On Four Wheels’ gets the rapturous response it thoroughly deserves. Who needs a rockcrusher when you can readily turn hills into dust; look carefully I’m sure you will notice the Devil’s Wall quivering a little.
Enshrouded in clouds the Brocken is rocked to its nucleus by the earthquaking ‘Death’s On Its Way’ before the showstopping finale of the thoroughly metallized version of Rockwell’s ‘Somebody’s Watching Me’ is permitted to arise from the depths. Prior to the ensuing party Lindroos notes “The next track is just how Alexi envisaged it just on record” paying respect to Children of Bodom’s Alexi Laiho who provided clean vocals on Warmen’s 2005 recording. It’s been impressive stuff throughout and Warmen are sure to return to their native lands with a whole pile more fans.
The very next act is highly anticipated on a personal level, adding a good degree of variance to Rockharz’s already broad spectrum American hardcore punkers Agnostic Front have attracted a huge evening crowd to the Dark Stage. It seems I’m not alone in being drawn in.
Fully forty-five years in the business and we know what we’re ‘in for’ across the next fifty minutes. Uncompromisingly streetwise AF’s tracks are shorter than Snow White’s seven companions and spikier than a horde of somewhat lost hedgehogs wandering through a prickly pear plantation. They are unashamedly proud of their hometown, and the first part of their intro is one of the city’s most famous son’s most famous songs. Ol’ Blue Eyes’ ‘New York, New York’ paves the way, setting Rockharz swaying, as the clouds think better of it and scatter.
The ethereal wail of Ennio Morricone’s ‘Man with the Harmonica’ drifts across the ‘plains’ that roll off the northern flanks of the Harz. The mood builds up as the arena quivers with expectant excitement; there’s a sense of something epic about to go down. Apocalyptic sirens boom as the five-piece emerge each individual component teetering upon the cusp of detonation.
The energised instrumental ‘AF Stomp’ (I believe) cracks the whip and with the blue touchpaper lit it’s all systems go. It’s furiously fast with bassist Mike Gallo bouncing like an overheated feline on that proverbial tin roof. AF founder Vinnie Stigma, belying his 70 years, prowls; Rockharz are fully engaged.
Fully in the mode of Hatebreed and Suicidal Tendencies the high-octane punk of ‘Peace’ struts with the most urban of attitudes. The mayhem rolls right into the romp of ‘Fall of the Parasite’ with enthused vocalist Roger Miret, cutting a Mike Muir form, enticing with a cajoling “Show me your dance moves!”
A gritty infection ‘My Life My Way’ even though it’s from 2011 sounds as if it’s been hauled in from the band’s formative years of the mid-80s. Miret marvels at the scenes out front of them “That’s a beautiful thing out there!” he notes in the midst of a particularly raucous and caustic ‘You Say’. There’s just one small fly in the ointment is Miret’s vocals which seem to be intermittently low in the mix; whether this is intentional or a sound issue it’s difficult to tell but it does take the slightest of edges off proceedings for me.
With so much happening in such a swift manner the recording of events transforms into capturing snapshots like the swelling of hometown pride in the intensity of ‘Old New York’ or the depth of feeling in kinship in the anthemic bulldozing ‘For My Family’. Rockharz boils over as the Iron Cross track ‘Crucified’ gets the AF treatment, Stigma motions the sign of the cross aptly whist Miret’s constant energising of the crowd empowers one and all.
The unmistakeable legend of ‘Gotta Go’ has lost none of its zest and vigour; its rapid-fire pugilism is electrifying in the extreme and the despatch as slick as you like. This is, as the track states, is the true sound of revolution. Before the Rockharz can flop on the arena floor utterly spent there’s time for a final salvo.
It is one that’s dedicated to The Ramones, a band who took New York’s CBGB about the world and without whom we wouldn’t be gathered here this evening regaling in the buzzsawing tornadic ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’ hand-delivered by a bunch of NYC street punks. Sinatra’s ‘My Way’ is an appropriate outro as possible. It could be a soundtrack for the Agnostic Front take on life without a doubt. There seems to be plenty of juice left in the tank based on this evening’s showing.
Have you ever unwittingly stumbled across something in the middle of the night? You know the sort of thing as you try and find your way, in the darkness, to the bathroom facilities without turning a light on but accidentally kick a cat you didn’t realise you owned? Well, that was sort of what happened when we discovered the next band to grace the Rock Stage.
Two years ago, here at Rockharz, we had completed our day’s assignments and were heading back across the infield in the direction of our motorhome when we were, quite literally, stopped in our tracks by Nuremberg power metal outfit Dominum. Their particularly zany brand of zombie metal had us transfixed for the remainder of their set.
Two years ago the band had just their debut album ‘Hey Living People’ in their arsenal but they left a remarkable impression upon us. We caught up with them on both their UK tours last year and witnessed a tangible groundswell in their support across our side of the Channel. This evening, 24 hours ahead of actual release, we celebrate the unchaining of their third album ‘Night Is Calling’ in a place that everyone concerned must surely consider a sacred place.
Bones and skulls adorn the mic stands either side of Rockharz’s Rock Stage whilst banners sagely advise “Don’t Get Bitten By The Wrong Ones” and “The Dead Don’t Die”. The crowd gathered begin a spontaneous chant “Dominum!” This is a band whose stature is clearly upon a steep ascent. The intro rolls into action and white spots burst through the onstage miasma. Ghostly notes from the abandoned nursery chime as a classical themed powerage uplifts.
Drummer Victor Hilltop applauds the Rockharz crowd as he settles behind his kit and the intro morphs into ‘Danger, Danger’. Guitarist Tommy Kemp and bassist Patient 0 step forth ahead of their creator Dr. Dead. With a breezy “Hello Rockharz” the mild-mannered physician of the undead dispels any rumours of his demise. The opening track ‘Danger, Danger’ proves to be empowering with the good Doctor a naturally commanding figure, as ever, out front.
Segueing perfectly into the hugely contagious ‘Killed by Life’ – with its fusion of what to me sounds like the ‘Dr. Who’ theme in the track’s intro – Dead and his undead legion prove what a well-oiled machine they already are just four years since formation. Dead leads the arena in a pre-track singalong, the ensemble in the palm of his hand, paving the way for the heavy metal lullaby ‘The Dead Don’t Die’.
This is an outfit who possesses the unerring knack of taking everyday familiars and turning them on their heads and warping the insides into the outside. There’s exaltation across the Rockharz expanses celebrating the father of creation with the pulchritudinous blend of symphonic power in ‘Frankenstein’. Even though the sun is shining a few drops of rain threaten but think twice about it and skulk off elsewhere.
The spooky ‘Hey Living People’ receives the unified raised fists of approval; Dead roars an emphatic “Danke schön!” as Patient 0 shapes a heart, with his hands, as Rockharz chant loudly. The helter-skelter announces the arrival of ‘The Circus is in Town’ the first single from the new lp is appropriately its first taste delivered this evening. The serenity of the gentle melodics of the intro of ‘Don’t Get Bitten By The Wrong Ones’ soon escalate into a full-blown anthemic rocker. Any doubt as to whether zombies can rock? There shouldn’t be any by this juncture.
With a slice of Eastern Europe, a la the Tetris tune, the pounding refinements of ‘Nosferatu’ evoke much joviality. A chap, donning a rather glittery crash helmet, crowd surfs in his beloved wheelie bin. Kudos to the hard-working Grabenschlampen (pit crew) for getting both bin and its contents over the barrier safely – check out their festival aftermovie here – Rockharz 26.
The hauntings of ‘The Guardians of the Night’ receive a strident delivery as befitting a track from the underworld. Band and festival bounce through the pin-sharp mix of ‘The Chosen Ones’, after the sound gremlins that have reared their ugly heads on occasion through today it’s worth noting the excellent sound the latter acts are blessed with.
It’s down to work with a lupine howl with the clouds now clearing above. Up next it’s a heavy metal hell yeah cover of Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ that lands. Whilst not a fan, in any shape or form, of Jackson I’m in love with the raw buzzsawing riffage and what Dominum have done with this track. With its horror flavour this one could be set for a lengthy run in their set.
Closing up their hour is the showman influenced inferno of ‘Immortalis Dominum’. Ever the immortal master Dr. Dead shows, as per Highlander, there can only be one. The sun burns orange as it squeezes between the low cloud and horizon and soon the moon shall rise. It’s close to full moon, having just begun its wane, and all shall revel in its lunar glow. The Doctor and his zombie clan take their bows and bask in the deserved cheers as their outro – ‘The Power of Love’ by Huey Lewis and the News – blares. I’m looking forward to their December UK dates with The Night Flight Orchestra and Edge of Paradise.
Hey ladies and gentlemen, not forgetting all those multi-hued unicorns that abound in these parts, it’s time to don your face-paint, slap on some glam and rise from your bed of coal. Neatly lodged, very much like the structurally crucial keystone, in between the ascendant talents of Dominum and the all-round legend of headliner Alice Cooper we are about to be most regally entertained by the dark souls of Swedish metallers Avatar.
Whomever in the Rockharz organisation that is responsible for putting together this segment of the festival should be rewarded most handsomely. From my perspective the second day has had it all. From newly discovered gems throughout the day we’ve now reached, with respect to all, the business end of the lineup.
A hushed still, for a brief juncture, descends upon the festival grounds. There’s just the gentlest of buzzes discernible. It’s as if the festival, subconsciously as one, is gathering its breath for what’s about to come. The Scandinavian freakshow is about to take its turn following the Germanic circus.
A supernatural monastic chant heralds the band. Fog billows and, wraithlike, a cowled figure bearing a blue hued light emerges leading band members stagewards. Full of Nordic glory ‘Captain Goat’ gets matters underway. Its folk metal intro packs an impressive Viking essence. Vocalist Johannes Eckerström growls and snarls steering Rockharz clear of jagged shores. Drummer, and founding member, John Alfredsson maintains a steady and sure beat giving the rowers a steady rhythm.
The first of several forays into latest album ‘Don’t Go in the Forest’ goes down an absolute storm and is followed, with mythical elements abounding, by the storming bombast of ‘Let It Burn’. A silent fever spreads across the lands whilst a guitar riff that doffs a cap in the odd direction of the Eagles’ ‘Life In The Fast Lane’ darts in and out. It’s all dark atmospheres with a glamtastic fringe that puts a smile on faces. Have I just found a new-to-me favourite band. The spine tingles and hairs on the back of the neck are raised; the ferality has a high level of addiction.
The eclectic voltage of ‘The Eagle Has Landed’ serves as reverential appeasement to the Norse gods. Thoroughly reverbing its gloriously mayhemic rises to the point of being intoxicatingly spellbinding. Avatar seem to possess this innate ability to get right under your skin and into your very soul. Each and every tune has a hook and the tremoring kinetics of hard-hitting monster ‘In The Airwaves’ is no exception. The newer material certainly holds its own alongside the more well known.
If there’s such a thing as crushed velvet metal, then the gothic Sabaton vibes of ‘Bloody Angel’ is the very epitome of it. Avatar are proving the perfect lead into Alice Cooper. They’re a multi-faceted gem with predatory stomper ‘Death and Glitz’ taking a bow. The aural hypnotics of ‘The Dirt I’m Buried In’ swirl vehemently; the word anthem springs immediately to mind to describe this veritable banger.
Alfredsson lays down a military-esque ratatat whilst somewhere in the shadows joins in to bring in the folky-metal refrain of ‘Tonight We Must Be Warriors’. A harbinger of the apocalypse it’s magnanimously upbeat even in atramentous climes. A solitary owl mournfully calls out, bassist Henrik Sandelin’s charge rumbles menacingly in the huge addiction of ‘Don’t Go In The Forest’. There are daubs of Gary Numan in parts as yet another facet coruscantly reveals itself.
The rapaciously trampling ‘Smells Like a Freakshow’ shimmers in crepuscular delight. Utterly shred-tastic the damnation explosion welcomes dusk with open arms. Avatar’s parting shot, and signature track, is the dystopian horror metal of ‘Hail The Apocalypse’. Leaping right out of the seething cauldron of metallic mischief there’s an electro undercurrent that delights. Although I’m somewhat late to this party – Avatar has spawned ten studio offerings in some 25 years of existence – I can offer my extreme gratitude to Rockharz for yet another ‘discovery’. I’ll be checking out their UK dates in late November without question.
With a rock n’ roll career spanning across seven different decades there’s no figure more synonymous with putting the shock into rock than Day Two’s headliner. With 30 studio albums in his name, it’s the safest of bets, and no humiliation, to describe Alice Cooper as a long-lived veteran.
We all have our tales to tell from our journals of rock discovery and Mr. Cooper was a formative part of mine. From finding a whole load of his early material in the collection of vinyl that belonged to the older brother of a then schoolfriend through to Cooper’s reinvention as the 80s blurred into the 90s there are so many cherished memories.
However, somehow during those years and those that followed I’d not witnessed the spectacle of Vincent Furnier live. Those wrongs were eventually righted last summer when, on the evening that the news of Ozzy’s passing broke, our paths crossed in the Welsh capital Cardiff. Even with the sadness of external events Cooper played a masterstroke and I, along with several thousand other fans, witnessed what stood as one of my favourite performances of that year. Only being marginally bettered by Powerwolf’s showstopping headline slot here at Ballenstedt.
Stepping forwards to ‘Hello Hooray’ the multi-grammy nominated Cooper embraces Rockharz “I’m Alice! Welcome to my show!” menacingly expanding his greetings “Welcome to the party it’s only me and you!” I swear I notice the ultimate showman salivating and licking his chops at the prospect of the 75 minutes that are to follow.
Attired in top-hat and tails Cooper leads his troupe through the glammed-up opening ‘Who Do You Think We Are’. With breathtaking colours out to the west, the last vestiges of the day ebb away. Rockharz are illuminated by the rocketing ‘Spark in the Dark’. For the second day we’re treated to a headlining act that packs a weighty triumvirate of guitarists with 22-year-old Anna Cara stepping into the ranks alongside trusted six-string lieutenants Tommy Henriksen and Ryan Roxie.
Standing centre-stage Cooper performs the role of ringmaster admirably, there’s simply no-one better in the industry in my opinion. We’ve just witnessed his influences upon the two acts that preceded. The terminology anthem is reserved for tracks such as the timeless ‘No More Mr. Nice Guy’. Defying age and science it’s sick, it’s obscene and we love it for that.
A particularly pyromaniacal ‘House of Fire’ switches us back to the late 80s sleazy chapter; its glam metal leanings have somehow strongly survived the excesses of that era bearing testament to Cooper’s knack of individuality. Mind you, when you have ultimate crowd-pleasers like the mesmerizing ‘I’m Eighteen’ – the first single to chart on the US Billboard Hot 100 under the moniker Alice Cooper Group – in the locker it’s that little bit easier.
Yo-yoing between the decades Cooper dons a white lab coat for the horror shock metal of ‘Feed My Frankenstein’. Mid-track a giant Frankenstein puppet gets in on the act; sure, there are props and theatrics, but it doesn’t veer off into gimmickry. That’s just not the way Cooper does things. It’s finely balanced and the performance is at the beating heart of everything.
An eeriness enshrouds the arena prior to the rolling of thunderous Sabbath-ish riffing of the main body of 2005’s ‘Dirty Diamonds’ is untethered. A touch of James Bond thrives in the track’s midst. A singalong canticle ‘Hey Stoopid’ is simply unmistakable and rolls headlong into carefree sensual arcane worship by ‘Dangerous Tonight’. The galactic forces of 80s classic ‘Poison’ – the track that sealed the deal on Cooper’s reimagining becoming his biggest single since ‘School’s Out’ – turn sand into glass with their thermal properties.
Cara, personally chosen by Nita Strauss to temporary fill her role, takes the spotlight to lay out a stellar six-string solo before drummer Glen Sobel takes his moment too. Tormented demons whirl with Cooped constrained in a straitjacket for most of the spectral ‘Ballad of Dwight Fry’; this is surely part of the vista that inspired King Diamond.
Creepy to its core ‘Cold Ethyl’ has Cooper holding aloft a ‘corpse’ whilst demonstrating that horror can be, quite contradictorily, glitzy, and quite glamorous. There’re spicks and specks of the Beatles in the emotionality of ‘Only Women Bleed’ that leads into the coupling of ‘Second Coming’ and ‘Going Home’.
Underneath the splendour of the time-honoured white top-hat Cooper leads his charges into ‘School’s Out’, the moment 25,000 Rockharzers had been waiting for. Aptly a few segments of ‘Another Brick in the Wall Pt. 2’ are added for good measure into the mix.
The ultimate ringmaster looks out across the festival and speaks “Alice Cooper speaks to y’all” adding “I open the door and there were creatures everywhere!” before proceeding to introduce the band about him. Behind the Dark Stage a near full moon rises whilst a boisterous despatching of Nirvana’s ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ is sympathetically dedicated to Kurt.
The curtain descends on Alice and, for us, Rockharz’s second day. The party continues into the wee hours albeit a bit quieter than the night previous. The halfway point of the festival has been reached, and energy for the next two days need to be energised. It’s been an exceptional day even by Rockharz’s high standards.
Photography by Kelly Spiller for MPM
