A lot has changed in the twenty years since my first Bloodstock. What began as a relatively small indoor gathering in the middle of Derby city centre now welcomes around fifteen thousand metal fans from around the world annually. From two days, two halls, a signing room, and a “Metal Market” to four days, four stages, a signing tent, art gallery, gaming zone, and curiosities such as Viking battles and even early morning Heavy Metal Aerobics sessions, the changes to Bloodstock have been gradual but necessary.
From the young to the old, Bloodstock does its very best to cater to all tastes and all ages. A healthy number of grey-haired old rockers still travel to the hallowed grounds of Catton Hall, some grumbling about these shouty newer bands, others coming equipped with walking sticks or mobility scooters. Toddlers wearing ear protectors sit confidently on their parents shoulders, and teenagers and twenty-somethings flock to the festival to fall over drunk and engage in the now legendary late-night campsite Bin Jousting contests.
THURSDAY
With the familiar sound of battery-operated air pumps, beer cans being opened, and shouts of “No! Grab the other end! Now pull it through! Oh God, it’s collapsed again!” hanging in the air, it’s time to check out the evening’s entertainment on the Sophie Lancaster stage. First up is post-Nu Metal band The Violent Inzident, an act whose comedy gimmick hits the mark with unerring accuracy. Songs like ‘Whores of Instagram’, ‘I Love Nu Metal’ and the band’s self-titled anthem are met with roars of laughter, especially during the brilliant but affectionate Max Cavalera parody, ‘Brazil is Great’ when the red-bearded, backward-capped frontman brings out the flag of Argentina.
Texan death metallers Frozen Soul are up next and bring a decidedly less fun tone to the evening, brutal cuts such as ‘Encased in Ice’ and ‘Morbid Effigy’ leaving the gurning crowd with sore necks and sore throats. After a less-than-triumphant showing on the main stage a few years ago, the much-maligned KING 810 are back for another shot. One they take with both hands as they cleverly distract the audience from their songs with an elaborate stage show including a glitching Donald Trump-style robot on a pulpit high above the stage and a couple of scantily clad ladies showing their bottoms and throwing around fake money. Songs like ‘Fat Around the Heart’, ‘A Million Dollars’ and ‘Killem All’ sound fantastic but for much of the crowd, it’s the show which holds the attention.
Having changed their style a few times over the years, Austrian act Visons Of Atlantis are now flirting with piracy on the high seas. Clearly having the time of their lives, the band indulge in some silly hat-stealing antics and fake-punching Jack Sparrow-type fun while belting out symphonic metal corkers like ‘Master the Hurricane’, ‘Pirates Will Return’ and ‘Legion of the Seas’.
Taking somewhat of a darker turn, headliner Skynd is an entirely different proposition altogether. With every song title named after a murderer, serial killer or psychologically disturbed individual, the Australian singer freaks out her slightly worried audience with jerky puppet-like movements and a creepy doll-like voice. Songs like ‘Richard Ramirez’, Edmund Kemper’ and ‘Jim Jones’ draw you in but the fucked up ‘Michelle Carter’ and the jarring “Ra-ta-ta-ta, ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta” refrain of ‘Columbine’ keep you forever. Dark, twisted and completely unforgettable.
FRIDAY
With many people wearing pink to show their respect for Sophie Lancaster‘s mother Sylvia who died last year, the arena is quite a sight to behold today. From fat, bearded men in tutus to someone dressed as Patrick from Spongebob Squarepants, to most people this would be a confusing or disturbing turn of events. At Bloodstock, we just call it Friday.
Stupidly refusing to pace myself over the weekend, I begin today’s stage-hopping with Lancashire act Bloodyard, the angry thrash mob fronted by gravel-throated vocalist Donna Hurd laying waste to an admirably large early morning crowd. Also on the Sophie stage today are Manchester black metal nutters Wolfbastard who deliver such beautifully titled ditties as ‘Buckfast Blasphemies’, ‘Graveyard Slag’, and ‘Sick in the Bath’. Pure fucking British culture for you right there, folks.
Enigmatic London duo ZETRA enrapture a reasonably sized crowd with their dark Gothic Synthgaze sandwiched between Leeds hardcore act Pest Control, Irish proggers The Enigma Division, and Stoke-on-Trent noisemongers BLACK COAST. Contradicting their name completely, Midlands rockers Fury display nothing of the sort. Simply a fantastic band providing pure headbanging entertainment, songs like ‘Embrace the Demons’ and ‘Burnout’ leave everyone in attendance wanting more. Fury? Fun, more like.
Swedish legends Candlemass close the Sophie stage with a typically imperious performance, frontman Messiah Marcolin guiding his devoted congregation through the likes of ‘Mirror Mirror’, ‘Samarithan’, ‘The Bells of Archeron’, ‘Bewitched’ and closer ‘Solitude’, the crowd returning to their tents with the eternal sound of doom still ringing in their ears.
Skipping back to earlier in the day, Hampshire trio Witchsorrow raise the curtain on the Ronnie James Dio stage to a moderately sized crowd, their brand of doom going down well even if they do often look a little lost on the large main stage. Clapping eyes on Wytch Hazel for the first time, you could be forgiven for thinking Rush and Black Sabbath had just stepped out of a 1970s time warp in an all-whites wash. Not playing to the biggest crowd the main stage has ever witnessed, the Christian band still gain more than a handful of new followers with their happy brand of traditional religious retro-rock.
And just like that, Polish black metallers Hate switch the focus from God to Satan. Unfortunately, try as they might with some admittedly fearsome riffs, the curse of the early afternoon outdoor set claims another victim, the weekend sunshine robbing a potentially venomous performance of much of its teeth. God 1 – Satan 0.
No sooner have Hate left the stage than a strange phenomenon is witnessed across the field as hundreds of bald or grey-haired thrashers in tour shirts older than time shamble their way slowly down to the barrier. Yes, after a quick scheduling rearrangement, it’s old-school thrash time with Arizona legends Sacred Reich. Playing new tracks as well as the classics, it’s the older cuts that go down the best as ageing necks creak and crack to the likes of ‘Death Squad’, ‘Surf Nicaragua’, ‘Independent’ and ‘The American Way’, leaving frontman Phil Rind grinning happily from ear to ear.
Having switched time slots with Sacred Reich for some reason, Gatecreeper settle down to deliver some of the finest death metal of the entire weekend. Sure, it might be blatant Obituary worship with John Tardy-style vocals but it’s a beautifully ugly noise that whips the rowdier types down the front into a frenzy of arms and crowd surfing. German melodic death metallers Heaven Shall Burn keep up the momentum aided by plenty of fire and explosions before Swedish melodeath monsters In Flames (ironically minus any kind of flames) go down a storm in their main support slot. A happy and functioning In Flames really is a sight to behold Anders Friden and guitarist Björn Gelotte have an absolute blast, second guitarist Chris Broderick also firmly at home as they rip into cuts like ‘Behind Space’, ‘Only for the Weak’, ‘Cloud Connected’, ‘Take This Life’, ‘The Great Deceiver’, ‘Foregone’ and ‘Alias’.
The pyro returns with a vengeance for headliners Killswitch Engage who rip through twenty-one solid gold bangers in front of a rapturous and extremely vocal crowd. Frontman Jesse Leach occasionally tries to get serious with the audience about caring about each other while perpetual manchild Adam D interrupts with a well-timed, “Just don’t be a dick!”, running around like a lunatic, pulling faces and generally acting like, well… Adam D. A set list consisting of ‘Rose of Sharyn’, ‘My Last Serenade’, ‘The Signal Fire’, ‘The End of Heartache’ ends in brilliant predictability with a huge festival sing-along for Dio classic ‘Holy Diver’ and even some naysayers are seen nodding their approval.
Read Part 2 here:
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WORDS BY GARY ALCOCK
PHOTOS BY RICH PRICE PHOTOGRAPHY