Sonisphere UK – Knebworth Park, 1st & 2nd August 2009

Three weekends after my first Sonisphere experience in Barcelona and it was time to travel back to the county of my birth for the culmination of the Sonisphere tour – the much discussed and at times controversial event of the summer. Not that surprising considering at one point, it seemed as though half the line-up had dropped out through ill health, double bookings, splitting up, legal battles or billing feuds, plus rumours of poor ticket sales abounded which was further fuelled by the countless competition winners that sprung up in the weeks leading up to the festival – myself included. Just what else could possibly go wrong with this festival? I was fervently hoping ‘nothing’ would be the answer to that, and headed down south unsure of what to expect in the way of numbers, organisation and general festival experience. But it would be a first, and that was something in itself.

The final leg of the touring festival was the only two-day event of the lot and the Knebworth Park campsites, despite being a tad on the hilly side, were well-sized and not over-crowded. But anyway, to sum up, I came, I saw, I drank cider. There’s much opinion to impart, but I’ll just crack straight on with some pithy band reviews (as pithy as I can possibly be, which is, quite likely to be fairly lacking pith, come to think of it), and I’ll drop in any other comments and observations as and when they occur to me.

Saturday

Opening the second stage (Saturn as it was actually called, in keeping with the astronomical theme of the festival), SoIL were a bit of a damp squib and didn’t exactly kick the proceedings off in quite the way I would have hoped. Their new frontman is not a patch on Ryan McCombs (now singing with Drowning Pool), and this really let them down. Even their classic closing track ‘Halo’ lacked the punch I would normally associate with it.

Next up, continuing the theme of lacklustre openings, Alien Ant Farm were first on the mainstage (or Apollo as it shall from this point be known). Despite having an extremely cool bass player, who singularly kept the energy level of the band up through the entire set, nostalgia for the sake of nostalgia is just not my bag. A band who haven’t really had a solid release for a number of years and have not been touring (evidently) was frankly a bit of a turn-off. Plus they didn’t mention Michael Jackson at all before or after closing with their version of ‘Smooth Criminal’. Call me sentimental but as it’s undoubtedly their biggest hit despite being a cover and the man himself has recently passed on, it would have been a nice thing for them to at least mention him briefly. It left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

Although that could have been something to do with being a little the worse for wear – something which Skindred were about to put paid to over on the Saturn stage. Like a shot in the bum they were, just the tonic I needed to liven me up for a day of rocking ahead. Frontman Benji is full of youthful energy and didn’t let up from start to finish, making sure the crowd worked as hard as the band in lifting the fairly flat atmosphere.

Sylosis are one for the future – new British metal at its best, and they got an explosive response from the crowd in the Bohemia tent to what was a tight, exciting set of modern thrash. Walls of death at 3:00 in the afternoon? Sylosis say yes please.

And so to possibly the most bizarre festival booking of all time (with the possible exception of Daphne and Celeste at Reading 2000) – Bjorn Again. Some attendees were still adamant that it would be a secret band and waited with bated breath in hope for something Swedish and guitar-driven but with no hint of matching flares and platform shoes. They were to be disappointed, as the Abba tribute act took the stage suitably clad in a black and silver ensemble. Something must have come loose in my head whilst watching Sylosis as I found myself catapulted from bleary-eyed cynicism to hyperactive all-singing all-dancing lunacy. And the less said about that incident the better!

Anthrax on the mainstage was a one-off event of a different kind. The band have just parted ways with singer Dan Nelson and the stand-in is none other than ex-frontman John Bush. It’s a solid performance from the legendary thrashers but doesn’t grasp my attention. The set was overlong and I didn’t find all the songs to my taste – perhaps I was saturated with as much awesomeness as I could take following the mighty Bjorn Again. The fans seemed happy though and I had a token dance to ‘Safe Home’.

I was never as bothered about the Saturday line-up at Knebworth as the vastly superior Sunday bill, and perhaps I was influenced by this in my swift dismissal of The Used. They tried my patience. The sound was poor and the vocals grated on me, and in typical selfish festival-goer fashion I just wanted to hear ‘one I knew’. After three songs the irritation outweighed the desire to hear a familiar song, despite there being a whole album’s worth that would have caught my attention, so I gave up and headed back to the campsite for an afternoon tipple as the weather closed in.
Despite my intense dislike of wet weather there was something appropriate about the brooding clouds that gathered overhead as Heaven and Hell took the stage, and their entire set took place in varying degrees of precipitation, but it didn’t diminish what was an unexpectedly engaging performance. Having never really listened to much of their material I felt like a bit of a noob but by the end of their set lovely little Ronnie James Dio with his impressively large vocals had captivated me and everyone else around me.

Faced with the option of watching the distinctly underwhelming Bullet For My Valentine whilst shivering in my soaking waterproofs, the decision to retreat into the Bohemia tent to watch what was for me an intriguing yet relatively unknown quantity, whilst drying off, was an easy one. Post-rockers Oceansize from Manchester turned out to be the surprise of the weekend. Ethereal, euphoric and with one of the best light shows I’ve ever seen in a tent-type environment, I was literally entranced by them. They created a wall of sound that was truly astonishing. Music for drying off to? Hell yes.

I emerged from the tent on another planet. Well, it seemed that way after the mind-altering experience that was Oceansize, added to the fact that the weather had taken a turn for the better, and the sun was setting in the most spectacular red-tinged fashion. It was headliner time, and the nu-metal revival continues – not that it ever went away where Linkin Park were concerned, as they have been one of the few to survive the demise of the much-maligned 90’s genre, however, it was a revival in my eyes having not listened to the band for some years, and I embraced it whole-heartedly.

I saw Linkin Park about five years ago in an arena and the same thing struck me then as it did tonight – that Chester Bennington is one hell of a singer. He projects effortlessly to the very back of the park and it’s really a joy to listen to. The band play a good few from their debut album, ‘Hybrid Theory’, which pleases me greatly, but it seems that like myself, a great many lose interest when Bennington insists on bringing on his side project, Dead by Sunrise, right in the middle of Linkin Park’s set. Quite what the motivation for the stunt was I don’t know but it tipped me over the edge into needing a beer, a hoodie and a burger (not necessarily in that order), so we headed back for the evening.

Sunday

After a wet Saturday and a chilly night, it was lovely to wake up to some Sunday morning sunshine. I was alive and kicking and hangover-free bright and early for some good old British doom metal in the shape of Paradise Lost on the Saturn stage. Despite a slightly dodgy sound, I quite enjoyed their set, having never seen them before – it was more of a rousing start to the day than Saturday, at least.

Killing Joke are a band I’ve never really gotten into and after two songs of their set on the Apollo stage, I have to get as far away from them as possible. I won’t elaborate as I know many people are huge fans of theirs but oh my, it really didn’t do it for me. Back on Saturn, Saxon basically went over my head as I found myself something to eat in preparation for my first highlight of the day.

I’m not going to go into much detail about Lamb of God as I reviewed them fairly fully after Sonisphere Barcelona, and in all honesty, this wasn’t as good. I was farther back which could have been a contributing factor, but the sound was poor, the vocals being far too low in the mix. This was also an issue in Barca and I’ve come to the conclusion that much as I love them, they’re more of an indoor band than a festival band. Nevertheless, they were still heavy and energetic, and the crowd reacted to them well. Buz McGrath from Unearth did a sterling job taking over guitar duties from Mark Morton, who left the tour a week or so ago as his wife is expecting a baby ‘any minute now’ (according to Randy). I wonder if it’ll be born with that beard.

So, Mastodon. My sixth time seeing them. It’s a pretty impressive statistic for a person who doesn’t like a band. Lamb of God must have been running over as Mastodon were already mid-song by the time we made it back to the Saturn stage (not that we were moving at any great speed). Exhaustion may have been getting to me at that point as at some points I almost, well, sort of enjoyed some of their set. Mainly the bits without any singing as I have decided I simply cannot stand the vocals. But some of the instrumental sections were, well, sort of okay. Ish. SURELY I’m not going to go soft on them after all this time. I feel I have a duty to maintain my dislike because imagine how gutted I’ll be if one day I suddenly realise that they’re amazing, and I’ve wasted all these opportunities to really enjoy them. Yup, I know.

A little bit of controversy can be a good thing where new events are concerned, but the Machine Head feud left the organisers of Sonisphere with red faces when it occurred and threatened to overshadow the festival. It seemed destined to leave them red-faced once more when the summer’s worst kept secret, the ‘special guest’ slot on the mainstage, turned out to be none other than the deserters themselves! Who’d have thunk it. They took the stage to the music from ‘The Omen’ and after ripping through their opening track frontman Robb Flynn confirmed that the omens did indeed portend, as he proceeded to belittle the festival organisers and Limp Bizkit in one fell swoop, whipping their diehard fans into a frenzy in the process.

Something was different about Machine Head today. They still delivered their set in a tight, professional way and they were just as good as in Barcelona, however, call me gullible but I honestly believe that the show really meant something to them. The response they got was immense, and the chanting and circle pits continued from start to finish and beyond. Flynn is normally as measured as the next frontman with his banter but today he spent a long time just looking out and taking it all in. He seemed genuinely moved. Feuding and Limp Bizkit aside, I honestly believe that this was a special performance from this band.

The next portion of the festival was spent in the queue for the signing tent where, joy of joys, I got to meet most of Lamb of God and have them sign something for me. It was a really nice experience and appeased the pathetic quivering fangirl within me for at least, ooh, half an hour. As a result I missed Limp Bizkit but it seemed somehow fitting to do so in hindsight, as following the festival it came out that Lamb of God’s Willie Adler had thrown his lot in with Machine Head in the criticism of the afore-mentioned nu-metal crew. So I was just being loyal really.

Alice in Chains were probably the band I was most looking forward to at the festival, and in the afternoon sunshine, surrounded by literally the happiest festival crowd I’ve ever seen, they didn’t disappoint. Their signature sound has weathered well over the years and to prove it, new song ‘A Looking In View’ sounds absolutely immense live, and features their trademark chunky, groovy rhythms and soaring melodic chorus, completely winning over anyone left in the crowd who wasn’t already spellbound. Many have criticised the band for continuing with a replacement singer but I defy any of those critics to witness the rockstar in waiting that is William Duvall and not be blown away by his pure class. He poses, wails and plays guitar, looks bloody cool and has a cracking voice to boot – neither a carbon copy nor an imitation of Layne, but with just the right tone and timbre to match Jerry Cantrell’s voice perfectly, as well as buckets of personality, he fits the band like a glove, just as Layne did. He is truly the man of the festival.

From the future hope of a band who were long considered dead to the last goodbye of one that many have worshipped over a number of years as the leading light in their particular subgenre. It was an emotionally charged evening for all concerned, and the emotion showed on the face of Nine Inch Nails frontman Trent Reznor just as much as on the faces of the thousands of NIN devotees in the crowd. The set itself was immaculate. Well-chosen, introspective songs and extended instrumentals were the order of the day and although they have since been criticised from some quarters for not playing a balls-out, greatest hits-style set, from where I was standing it was the most touching farewell that a true NIN fan could have asked for. And the two I was at the festival with agreed, once they had composed themselves for long enough to string a sentence together. I’d also like to give a shout out to the camera-man who reflected the seminal nature of the gig with some beautiful camera work, showing Reznor close-up in black and white, but in full emotional technicolour.

There’s not much left for me to say about Metallica that I haven’t either said before myself or that someone else hasn’t said, probably 1,000 times in a hundred different ways. But it’s as simple as this. When Ecstasy of Gold starts (with added Clint Eastwood of late), every single person in the place who has ever seen Metallica before knows what is about to happen. They are about to witness a fully charged, fully loaded metal gig. And yes, it gives me chills every time. They burst onto the stage and launch into a five-song blitz through their back catalogue, hurtling through already up-tempo numbers at such speeds that you can barely headbang in time. They have been at the top of their game for years and yet they just get better and better. Where all their energy comes from, I will never know. Perhaps it’s from us, as James Hetfield keeps telling us – it has to feel good looking out and seeing maybe 50,000 metalheads reverently singing every lyric and every note of every guitar solo back at you.

On my 10th Metalli-versary, (10th time of seeing them live in 13 years) the setlist featured yet one more new song for me to tick off my list – ‘Dyer’s Eve’ from the ‘And Justice For All’ album, which sounded absolutely brutal. At the end of the gig there was one more surprise in store – but not for us. It was James’ birthday and he was attacked from all directions with custard pies, very amusing indeed. The band stuck around onstage for quite a while after the gig singing happy birthday to James and thanking the fans individually, which was a nice touch.

And so the Sonisphere experience drew to a close. I feel quite invested in the franchise as a whole having been to two out of the six events across the continent this year, and I will follow its progress with interest over the years to come. All in all, a great experience – fair play to all involved, and thanks for the memories!

Sonisphere, Barcelona - 11/07/09

It was an overcast but humid afternoon in the Catalan region of Spain. The other half and I arrived at El Parc del Forum, south-west of Barcelona city centre at around 14:00, still a full hour before doors opened. It was our first experience of a European festival and the late start time came as a welcome relief having enjoyed one two many cervezas in the Rock and Rolla bar on Escudellers the previous night. Presumably due to the midday heat, the late start would meant a typically continental but distinctly un-British finishing time of 2:00am. Rock and roll!

Following successful dates in Holland and Germany, Barcelona was to be the third leg of the new touring rock festival Sonisphere which will culminate in August with a two-day stint at Knebworth, UK. We had a long day ahead of us but collected our tickets and proceeded to mill about with the metal-hungry Spaniards outside the grotesque urban sprawl that is the Forum. The £90 million building itself looks like the navy blue lovechild of something pointy and the 1980s, and caused much controversy when it was opened in 2004. The festival was set in grounds of the Forum building, by the harbour, and my first experience of an outdoor gig taking place entirely on concrete. I felt somewhat relieved my crowd-surfing days were over as the thought of crashing onto that floor was somewhat disconcerting, and continued to show my age by worrying about whether I might get a bit of a sore bottom.

The first band of the day were local metalcore outfit The Eyes, down on the second stage, which with its stone terracing one side and grassy bank on the other created a miniature bowl effect which made for an impressive sound. The Eyes got the day off to a flying start with their energy and enthusiasm, and had a dynamic sound despite noticeable timing and tuning issues. They obviously revelled in such a large home crowd, and apart from the frontman who pulled an exceptional selection of rockstar poses, the band came across a bit like excitable puppies. I can't blame them to be honest considering the company they were keeping. Definitely one to watch for the future.

Due to the already infamous Machine Head cancellation cock-up (more on that later) and queuing for Sonisphere money (that too!), we sadly missed Gojira’s first song, but pelted back down to the second stage to catch the rest of the French eco-metallers’ set (term manufactured for want of a better genre!). They blew the Spanish crowd out of the water with an assured performance, of which ‘Flying Whales’ was the highlight, along with ‘Backbone’, which lead singer and guitarist Joe Duplantier dedicated to Lamb of God frontman Randy Blythe. It was an unexpected bonus when Blythe burst onto the stage and joined them for the second half of the song, lending his explosive vocals and boundless energy to an already top notch tune. Blythe retreated to the side of the stage after embracing Duplantier and from that point onwards, watching him air-drumming and enthusing over Gojira’s performance was almost as entertaining as watching the band themselves.

Another homegrown band, Soziedad Alkoholika, were the first band to take to the mainstage, but we opted for some lunch instead, the hardcore punk on offer not really our cup of sangria. Instead we spent 8 Sonisphere Euros apiece on two buckets of Estrella Damm and took our precious nectar to a comfortable spot on the terraces to wait for Mastodon.

Shoot me down in flames if you will, but anyone who knows me knows my opinion of Mastodon, and can probably predict how this next review is going to go. Having seen them support Tool four times in 2006 my mind was made up about this band some time ago; they are a total marmite band for me and try as I might, I haven’t been able to get over my dislike of them, their strange pseudo-prog sound or their occasionally asinine offstage behaviour. However in my defence, and in the spirit of giving second chances, I had a listen to a couple of tracks from the band’s 2009 release ‘Crack The Skye’ on their Myspace page, after I was told it was a step in a different direction for the band, and I have to say that I almost… enjoyed the songs I checked out. Perhaps I would be pleasantly surprised.

Buoyed by my new-found ambivalence, I waited with an open mind for what I hoped would be a step in the right direction live, also. Sadly I was to be disappointed. The new material which showed promise online did not come across well live at all. The vocals sounded strained and far too Ozzy-influenced. The second track they played harked back to their failure to impress me three years ago and my other half, not blessed with the patience of angels like myself, dragged me away after that.

I can’t say I was that upset about this, especially when we discovered what else was on offer. A small crowd were gathered in an opening and eager to see what the fuss was all about, we went for a gander. The video I took speaks for itself.

*video to come!

Blaas of Glory, from the Netherlands there, showing that there really is a satisfactory alternative to Mastodon.

The middle order bands were the real meat in the metal sandwich and next up were my pet band of 2009, Lamb of God. The were the first band I saw on the mainstage and as it turned out, it was a day of firsts – Lamb of God’s first ever show in Spain, nonetheless! The crowd were primed and ready, and I had no complaints as they tore through a ‘greatest hits’ style set, other than that it wasn’t long enough. But if they played their entire back catalogue uninterrupted, that still wouldn’t be long enough for me. Even if it contained an acoustic set, some barbershop quartet work and an exclusive rendition of their little-known covers album ‘LOG do Dolly Parton.’ Okay, I’m exaggerating. They’d never do an acoustic set.

But anyway, I digress (‘I must beware of riding off on my pet steed Tangent’, as Richard Dawkins said in ‘The God Delusion’ much to my amusement). Lamb of God are top quality live performers and never let the crowd down, just as the crowd never let them down. This was confirmed for me as around halfway through their set, a dazed-looking boy emerged from the moshpit to promptly vomit right in front of where we were standing, narrowly missing my feet. The decision to wear trainers instead of sandals was looking like an increasingly sensible one. This was reinforced again when to my astonishment, I almost participated (involuntarily, of course) in the traditional ‘wall of death’ during final song ‘Black Label’. Luckily I managed to stand my ground while hundreds of teenage boys in Metallica t-shirts hurled themselves at each other around me. I am a rock. And NOT because I’m old and boring. No, really.

At the end of LOG’s set, Randy Blythe urged everyone to ‘go see Down on the other stage’ which funnily enough struck me as a jolly good suggestion, so we joined the mass exodus from main to second stage and managed to find ourselves a decent spot just as Down wandered on in their own characteristically aimless way. The set that followed was one of my highlights of the day, the excellent sound quality doing their chunky, groovy sound plenty of justice and the second litro cerveza sitting comfortably in my belly whilst I danced like a loon. Phil Anselmo was in quite a chatty mood although he seemed concerned that the non English-speaking crowd might miss his point. Don’t worry Phil, we all think Down rock.

The set closed with the southern contingent of the bill lending members to replace the four Down musicians to create one mighty jam-filled love-in of a Down doughnut, with Mark Morton of Lamb of God taking Kirk Weinstein’s guitar, and three members of Mastodon taking over the remaining musical duties. Aside from Brent Hinds’ excessive widdling (they just can’t help annoying me, can they), it was another great moment in what was shaping up to be one of the finest days in metal history! (Ah hyperbole, how I love thee. Let me count the ways. There must be at least a billion).

Due to the stage reshuffle after the Knebworth/Limp Bizkit fiasco, Machine Head were now on the mainstage. I was understandably a bit grumpy with them due to all the problems surrounding their cancellation of the UK Sonisphere and the subsequent backlash, and prepared to be distinctly underwhelmed, as I had been earlier in the year at their support of Metallica’s arena tour. However, unlike Mastodon who failed to wow me despite my optimism, Machine Head banished my festering cynicism by quite simply kicking major buttocks. They were the loudest band of the day and the extended set length allowed them to showcase such classic tracks as ‘Old’ and ‘Bulldozer’ which were a wonderful surprise. We watched from a distance due to tired feet and hunger but I have to say, Machine Head really impressed me, so kudos to them.

Live by the mask, die by the mask is a phrase that readily springs to mind when it comes to Slipknot. Once you’ve seen them a couple of times and the gimmick has lost its novelty you start to realise that they don’t have the most gripping music to back it all up. Yes they rock hard, live, and are always a spectacle, but the songs, the newer ones in particular, just don’t sustain my interest anymore. Yes, the gimmick works for them – having 9 members (only 8 today admittedly, due to a death in the family of percussionist Chris Fehn) wearing masks, bashing oil drums, rotating drum risers – it’s compelling viewing and it will keep the kids entertained for as long as the band wish to keep the circus rolling. It’s just not my bag anymore.

And so to the headline act. The legendary wait for Metallica’s arrival is not what it used to be. I’ve only just left the bar when they take the stage, just 15 minutes behind schedule, and tear into ‘Fight Fire With Fire’ at breakneck speed. The pace doesn’t slow until the opening bars of ‘Fade To Black’, four songs later. I have to say, having seen Metallica eight times already, it never fails to pull the rug from under me when they manage, yet again, to surprise me. I had been avoiding looking at setlists for the summer stint of their tour and ‘Fade To Black’ just crept right up on me, tapped me on the shoulder and metaphorically, pulled my emotional pants down. I won’t lie to you, my eyes became slightly moist, must have been the dust or something. I never thought I would see them play that song live, and it was very special, I have to say. Okay, end girly moment.

In fact, Metallica played at least four songs that I had never heard them play live before and that’s really something considering my track record with the band (I say 'at least' because I feel it might have been 5 or even 6 but minus the setlists from the early days of seeing them, I can’t be 100% sure). I went away a very satisfied Metalli-fan, once again.

The day drew to a close at a curfew-demolishing 2:15am (you’ve got to love continental festivals) and we forced our weary feet the 40 minute walk back to our hotel where we stuffed some paprika Pringles in our faces before crashing out in a most comfortable bed. Sometimes, just sometimes, it really does beat a tent in a damp British field.