FESTIVAL REVIEW: Slipknot's Knotfest Iowa Live at Water Works Park

To celebrate twenty-five years at the wheel, Slipknot brought the show back to Iowa for a one-day event at Water Works Park in the lovely midwestern town of Des Moines.

In the heavy music world, Nu-Metal wonders Slipknot, are unquestionably one of the biggest draws. Most fans in this genre have seen the band many times because they headline multiple festivals most years, making themselves unavoidable. They always give crowd-pleasing performances, which is why they have stayed on top for so long. What I remember most about them is that the last three times I have seen them play, it has been raining, but I am getting a little ahead of myself.

I drove out to Des Moines from the North Shore of Chicago on Saturday morning, so I had to get up before Cockcrowed at four-thirty. I was bleary-eyed for quite a while, and I didn’t really even wake up until I was already in Iowa, not remembering how I got there. At some point during the drive I dreamed to myself, I could have stayed in Chicago and gone to Riot Fest, but I didn’t, and then the next thing I knew I was in Des Moines.

I had never been to Water Works Park, and even now all I really know about it is that it is quite big. I followed the signs to GA parking (I had not pre-paid) and was directed to park in the grass in a large field, as is the custom at these sorts of events. I was stunned to discover that parking was only $10, and so I was feeling pretty good about the day for the first time. I asked a fellow stranger how far away the venue was, and he said he didn’t know. Just like me. We started following the ant trail, and a half a mile or so away was a queue for a school bus. Oh boy. We stood in the sun at 11:15 in the morning, warming up in the eighty-degree weather, waiting for a bus beside the gravel road. Good times.

The drive was short, just a couple miles, and it was certainly better than walking that unpleasant distance. Disembarking, I saw the line of a couple thousand souls indicating where the gate was, so I headed that way. I got my press credentials, including the wrong wristband, and then got in line. If they had let me in through a staff entrance or some such, I would have gone that way. They did say that I could just jump in the GA line near the front, but I was not going to do that. I have spent a lot of time in lines like this over the past forty years, and I am not going to just cut in front of people. If I don’t get walked through, then I am part of the hoi polloi and I am going to blend in with my fellows. No line cutting. Solidarity!

The festival grounds was a large egg-shaped, mostly lawn-covered space with a stage at either end. The main stage had been installed for the event, and the second stage was an existing structure at the park. There was a tent in the middle housing the Slipknot Museum which you could pay extra to pop in and look at the artifacts. I did not visit it. The weather was blazing hot, and most of the space was open, but there was a reasonable amount of shade, and the crowd (reportedly around 20,000) did not overwhelm the space, so it was not terribly uncomfortable, although the mercury did climb to 89. Vendors were on the edges, there was a huge, jam-packed merch tent in the middle distance, and free water stations were plentiful. In general, the event was very well organized. I did not notice any significant shortfalls. Well done, Knotfest.

The first full set I saw was by Vended, a band advertised as the children of Slipknot, because a couple of the members are that very thing. Their debut full-length album dropped the day before the festival, so their appearance on the bill was fortuitous. They are a newish nu-metal band, which is well-trodden ground, but they have a lot to offer, pumping notable energy that was direct and throbbing. Spine came up next on the second stage, a Kansas City hardcore band that could barely be contained by the smaller front. They stalked and snorted and spit hot rage into the atmosphere, taking the commuting crowd’s energy in a new direction.

Poison The Well is a band from Miami I had not seen before, and I don’t have strong feelings about them. Swollen Teeth, though, is getting a push from the big band themselves – Slipknot is one of their strongest advocates. They are a rambunctious mask-wearing bunch who, despite their apparent ferocity, seem surprisingly approachable.

Heading over to the next band, I stopped to get some water and gaze at the sky. It was as hot as Cujo’s fevered ballsack, and the advance weather reports had all suggested thunderstorms were a threat the entire day, but so far there had only been dark clouds on the horizon and a blazing angry sun above. Still, I wondered. But right then it was Hatebreed time, so I got distracted. Anytime is a good time for Connecticut Metalcore. Celebrating their thirtieth year, Hatebreed was a big draw and caused chaos at the overworked merch tent. I don’t even know how many times I have seen this band, but I always like them for reasons that are a little ambiguous.

Back on stage two, satanic doo-wop band Twin Temple stole our hearts. I heard some chatter in the press pit about the pros and cons of the act, and, you know, to each his own. For me, I love this band. Dressed in a sinister southwestern theme, the peppy songs and saxophone layers are entirely irresistible. Hail Satan indeed. The joy that Twin Temple generated was shaken from us by Knocked Loose, the hardcore renegades who have opened a path for many followers. I have always enjoyed these youngsters, and they were more than usually laid back in Iowa. After they finished, I started humming Twin Temple tunes.

Dying Wish was next, but I did not get to see them. The set times did not overlap, which is great for fans – the best possible arrangement. There was plenty of time to get from one stage to the next, and you never miss a set. The issue for me was that press photographers approved for Till Lindemann had to show up thirty minutes in advance for his set, leaving only five minutes for Dying Wish, so there was no way to hear even one song and still meet the requirements for Till. While we were standing there shooting the breeze beside the silent main stage missing Dying Wish on the second stage, we heard the news that heavy weather was finally nearby. Big and bad. The play was to accelerate the sets, squeeze them, and all the bands would still get to go on before the situation got dangerous. OK. Till at 6, Gwar at 7, Slipknot at 8.

Till Lindemann is the frontman for the German juggernaut Rammstein. They always seemed to me to be a band you either really liked or really disliked. Loud and filled with pyro, they are a huge international draw. Till Lindemann has been planning a solo North American tour for a long while. I was looking forward to seeing him last year at Blue Ridge Rock Festival, but he dropped out, even before the festival imploded. So, I was ready for this and all in. Or at least I thought I was. Wow. It was something. About half of the songs were sung in English and half in German, which was cool. I am not familiar with Lindemann’s solo work, honestly, so when he started singing about having sex with fat people, eating peoples’ lips, and golden showers, I was a bit wrong-footed at first. The band was slinky, the color theme was red, and the images rolling on the giant screen behind the musicians were not the kind of thing you would expect to see in Iowa. I am still trying to understand what I saw and heard. Hmm; mmhmm. If Lindemann is playing at a festival you are going to, definitely see the set. It won’t be like any other band at the festival.

The mighty GWAR was delegated to the second stage. They played at dusk, and had a shortened set, so they had to start spraying blood on fans from the opening skit. GWAR is GWAR, and if you like seeing heavy metal musicians dressed up like mutated aliens performing acts of hyperviolence on stage while disparaging absolutely everyone, then it is a good show for you. I love Gwar, because they have a legitimate chug to their sound, and they are entirely unserious. I always walk away smiling and thinking to myself, “These fucking guys,” while swaying my head gently from side to side.

The big band came out early in the eight o’clock slot attempting to dodge the weather. Even with the time shift, there was no urgency to get things going, with a lot of standing around and a long non-walk-on prerecorded track (“Dream Weaver” by Gary Wright, as made famous by Wayne’s World) building anticipation leading to the pounce. Slowly they came out on stage, giving pendulous looks to the crowd and listening to the screaming of adoring fans. Just then, the first fat raindrops began to fall.

Slipknot got going with its windup and, as advertised, they leaned heavily into the material from their debut self-titled album from 1999. After all, this entire event was a celebration of their roots and longevity. The whole gang was there, and presumably the drummer was Eloy Casagrande, but of course he was wearing a mask, so we may never really know for sure. What I do know is the set was tight, and it was a thoroughly entertaining performance.

Slipknot did end their set early because of the giant storm, clipping the encore they would have played. There was still a lot of music (eleven songs, I think), and even under the soggy conditions, I did not see a lot of people heading to the exit gate early. It was a good day, and without question it was the best time I have ever had in Des Moines.