Well, that was quite possibly the best weekend of my life. 6 of us brave Boltonians (and assorted northern types, plus Bobby the metal duck) recently returned from Wacken Open Air 2006, a massive Heavy Metal festival in Germany. A “rough” journal of events follows (more pictures can be found in the link to Martin's Wacken Pics on your right):
Tuesday 1st August
At 4:30 PM we flew out to Hamburg from Manchester, heavily laden with all kinds of metal baggage. All went smoothly right up until we got off the bus from the airport at Hamburg's Hauptbahnhof, at which point we had our first experience of the infamous German efficiency. Just as the bus pulled up for us to get out, a well-placed rain cloud delivered its payload directly upon our poor foreign heads, soaking us within seconds. The term "heavy shower" has never been more accurate; during the 50 metre dash to shelter we became completely sodden. But all was not lost - we quickly comandeered a taxi to our hostel, dried off a little and went out for the obligatory beer and food (or "sampling the local culture", if you prefer).
Upon our arrival in the centre, it quickly became clear that the receptionist at our hostel had misled us somewhat. Either that, or some wires had become severely crossed in her translation, somehow causing her to use the words "Irish Bars" to describe the red-light district. However, we soon discovered that it was fairly easy to avoid the more seedy of places, and actually found some decent bars (and a traditional German pub!) in which to enjoy ourselves. This involved a few beers and (of course) some Hamburgers. They really do know how to do Hamburgers. I mean, obviously they should, but I've never tasted anything like it. I'd happily go again just to have another. Anyway, after said beers and food, we eventually retired to the hostel, played some giant chess, suffered the awful jokes of a rather persistent Danish chap and went to bed in an attempt to prepare for an early start on the morrow.
Wednesday 2nd August
Up early for a Youth Hostel breakfast, which quite frankly (and unsurprisingly) didn't fill us with glee at the thought of German food for a week. After a short spree of giant chess, and a slight amount of confusion on my part with the receptionist's Bavarian accent, we arranged for a taxi to come and pick us up and take us to Wacken. Slightly more than an hour, 80 km and a rather flustered taxi driver later, we arrived at our destination, and Shirezy marked his territory by immediately vomiting out of the door of the taxi, which somewhat suprised the 15 or so metalheads casually lounging around the pavement nearby. On this note, we quickly picked up our bags, paid the taxi driver and scuttled off into Wacken village.
It was immediately obvious that we'd come to the right place. The village from which the festival takes its name, usually a quiet settlement of 2000 or so inhabitants, was adorned with banners loudly declaring "Wacken 2006 - Welcome Metalheadz!", many a front yard had been converted into an impromptu beer garden and the whole place was crawling with long-haired, denim and leather-clad fellows. We happily soaked up the atmosphere as we passed through, and arrived 15 minutes or so later at the entrance to the campsite, grinning inanely. There we received our armbands (proper hardy fabric and metal ones, not like the tacky plastic affairs one gets at English festivals) and our "Full Metal Bags", handy little knapsacks crammed with useful items for the discerning metal camper, such as drinks holders, torches and free CDs. so we set off happily to pitch our tents...
At this point, the rain made another timely appearance. We legged it to the campsite and began trying to set up our tents in a desperate attempt to escape the downpour. It was only after 10 minutes of this, when we were halfway through, that the steward came along and helpfully explained why the site we'd picked was so empty: it was reserved for a large party of Swedish people. Not being Swedish, we were ushered off to another site, where we finally managed to pitch up just as the rain died off. So we lolled around in the intermittent sun for a few hours before departing to the supermarket to grab some essentials - beer, bread, grapes, ham, cheese, barbeque stuff and more beer. Needless to say, we had some sandwiches, drank some beer, and had a barbeque (with some rather nice german kebab things). then some more beer. Then we decided to wander into the arena for the first time to check out the metal market and the metal kareoke (can you tell what the theme is yet, folks?) and acquire our first Wacken beer glasses.
The system for beer glasses at Wacken is both simple and ingenious. The first time you get a beer, you pay a deposit for the glass (a rather sturdy plastic affair), which you receive back upon returning said glass, making all later beers cheaper. There is a variety of different designs available, which makes them quite collectable, so often we would decide to waive the deposit in favour of keeping the glass (I eventually returned with 7 normal glasses and a Maß, which holds 1 litre of beer).
So after acquiring said glasses, and rediscovering the joy of Franziskaner Weissbier from the previous night, we wandered into the metal kareoke/disco tent, where we proceeded to watch a mad (presumably German) compere dance about the stage while either a backing track or a (usually) completely talentless metalhead provided the music. Although many of the kareoke attempts were absolutely dire, there were some good ones (notably the lady doing Nothing Else Matters by Metallica), and words really cannot begin to describe the experience of 2000+ metal fans singing along to Warriors of the World United by Manowar! In fact, I'm going to play it now just to remind me...
After an hour (maybe more) of this, myself and Shirezy, shortly followed by Su and Martin, returned to the camp with the intention of an early night in preparation for the first day of bands on the morrow. This was quickly scuppered when we realised some rather friendly Germans (bearing such monikers as Pirate, Kunty and Stefan) had "moved in next door", and brought a Gazebo. The happy chatter, in both German and English, continued into the night, until one by one we all finally gave up and slept.
Meanwhile, Matt and Jo had continued drinking in the arena, long into the night. Most of the details are somewhat hazy here, but it was later reported that Matt had somehow, whilst harmlessy minding his own business, invoked the anger of the God of outdoor furniture, and been attacked visciously and in cold blood by two benches and at least as many tables. After this somewhat dazing experience, both Engländer wandered back to the campsite, where they claimed to be lost for at least 10 minutes before realising they were, in fact, stood right in the middle of our circle of tents. Some people you really can't take anywhere...
Thursday 3rd August
Being as the bands didn't begin until the evening, much of the day was spent as the previous one; after being woken up by the morning sun turning our tents into saunas (sauni? Saunarna?), we proceeded to loll about a bit before wandering to the breakfast stall to get our metal breakfast. Although cold, it was rather hearty (and even healthy!), Frikadelle and masses of salad in a rather large barm (if "das Barm" isn't a German word, then it should be.) We then lolled some more before gathering more supplies from the supermarket/cash machine whilst getting soaked in the process by the now-familiar über-efficient rain. The rain actually caused some confusion and a great deal of amusement at one point earlier on, when we decided to take shelter under the Germans' gazebo in their absence, and they came back to discover a rogue packet of grapes on their table (left mistakenly by us in our joy at the return of the sunshine).
By the onset of evening we had another barbeque going, after which I wandered into the arena to catch the second half of the evening's main support, the
Michael Schenker Group (MSG). Coming in partway through
Into the Arena, I was mightily impressed to see one of my very favourite guitarists and his fellows in such fine form. By now they're all on the wrong side of young, but that didn't stop them belting out such numbers as
Attack of the Mad Axeman and a number of old UFO favourites with gusto. I'd like to give a special mention to the nutcase of a bassist and Herr Schenker's moustache, neither of whom stopped moving the entire time :)
After the first true band experience of the festival, I met back up with the others to catch a little of the promising extreme band Gutlock before headliners The Scorpions. Though they started promisingly, and had a number of guest appearances from previous members including Uli Jon Roth and Michael Schenker, after about an hour we were beginning to get bored. Another hour and two drum solos later, many of the crowd (mainly the non-Germans) were feeling the same way, and so we joined them in a mass exodus to the campsite, where we finally heard the strains of the song we had all been waiting for, Rock You Like a Hurricane over the wind at about quarter to one in the morning. For me the highlight of the set was actually seeing the Wacken skull, the long-standing symbol of the festival, alight in the night sky for the first time (see above). Though personally I opted to crash quite early after the Scorps, the usual drinking, banter and tomfoolery continued on the campsite as the night before, this time with the added amusement of a campfire.
Friday 4th August
Woken up nice and early by the sun again, after the usual slow return to consciousness we staggered into the arena at midday to catch
Wintersun, the ex-lead singer from Ensiferum’s new band. Despite playing music suited to neither the daytime nor the summer, they put on a stonking show, playing pretty much the whole of their only album to fill the 45 minute set. Awesome technical guitar work all round, and also possibly the quote of the festival; about halfway through the set, with the crowd thoroughly worked up and enjoying the show, the scary Finnish chap hailed the audience thus: “So, you like some metal in the morning?” [crowd]: YEaaH! “hahar, you crazy f**ks”
At this point in proceedings there seemed to be a gap in bands we wanted to see, so the usual wandering took place, and I went into the village to join the hefty queue for the cash machine. During my hour-long wait I befriended an Aussie and his South African girlfriend, which was fun, and just goes to show how far people come to go to Wacken :D I then wandered back, via the gazebo of some Wiganers I stumbled upon (who seemed just as disappointed/surprised/perhaps secretly pleased as I was to come all the way to Germany only to discover a large group of people from just down the road had followed them), and just about caught the end of Nevermore (“Look at me, not the helicopter!”/“Oh shut up! We’re not taking requests and I can’t hear you anyway”) before meeting up with Martin, Su and Shirezy to go and see Soilwork while Matt and Jo watched Opeth. I’d seen Opeth before, and though they apparently put on a good show, I’m glad I chose Soilwork. An excellent show of daytime (melodic) death metal, replete with a very bearded bassist, who we expect Shirezy to be in a few years. Also, my full metal bag acquired its first injury whilst jumping around to As We Speak.
By the time we met back with Matt and Jo, Matt was bouncing up and down like a giddy frog, grinning inanely. During Opeth’s set, he noticed on the true metal stage next to it that the backdrop being set up for In Extremo included a full pirate galleon, “with cannon and everything!” Needless to say, we had to watch this, and we were not disappointed. Stripy vests, bandanas, hurdy-gurdies, harps and the first pyro of the festival (save for the flaming skull) made for an awesome show, even from the distance we were at.
From there, we swung by the beer tent and caught a few songs of the rather fun Finnish “Beer Metal” band Korpiklaani, who had a rather foresty feel to their stage set (the mic stand was a branch) before moving on to the W.E.T. stage (the meal karaoke tent) to get a good position for Krypteria. It was well worth it. Fronted by the beautiful Ji-In, the showmanship and performance from each individual was great, and as a whole, the band were one of the tightest I’ve seen. Apparently they all graduated from Germany’s top music school, and it shows. I really recommend anyone who hasn’t heard of them to try them out – it’s the kind of thing that can appeal to anyone, whilst at the same time being very interesting and original, as well as uplifting. They’re still relatively unknown as yet, with just one EP to their name, but they should go far, and certainly deserve to.
Next up was the “headline” band (in as much as there ever is one at Wacken), Children of Bodom. Now this was going to be the 3rd time I was seeing Bodom, so I wasn’t bouncing up and down as eagerly as some people, but they still managed to disappoint me a little. General sloppiness accompanied by the usual overuse of the F-word by Alexi Laiho brought me to the conclusion that either they’re knackered from touring too much, or they’re disappearing up their own arses from their rise to fame over the past few years. The stage show was fantastic though, their name in big lights and lots of fire. We like fire. Though what the scrap-yard look was about, I don’t really know.
After an hour and a half of avoiding crowd-surfers bouncing off my head, it was time for a rest. I managed to recover enough to catch relevant parts of Ministry (not really my kind of thing, but pretty spectacular, and with a very political big screen backdrop), Battlelore (pretty much what it says on the tin – most songs hove orcs and/or elves in the title. It’s what metal’s about…but I wasn’t overly impressed) and Primal Fear (for whom the term “relevant part” applies to one song: Metal is Forever, which was fortuitously about the only song we caught). Then me, Shirezy and Su strolled over to finish the night with Amon Amarth, and my, were we impressed. Though again not really my kind of thing, they put on one hell of a show, despite not being in full Viking battle armour as we had been led to believe they would be. There were some Viking hats, and in addition lots of flames and a minor battle re-enactment ON STAGE. Words can’t describe how much fun that was. Afterwards the usual beer, Germans and campfire-related antics continued at the campsite before the night possibly ended.
Saturday 5th August
After rising slightly more sluggishly than usual and partaking of a slightly impromptu water-fight, some of us took a leisurely stroll at about half 1 to catch some of
Arch Enemy on the black stage. It had been a while since we’d last seen them, and although we were stood a long way back, it was evident they had improved further over the past 2 album tours, and the new guitarist had settled in nicely. However, anthems such as
We Will Rise and
Burning Angel didn’t stop me virtually nodding off on my feet, to great amusement of those around me as I nearly fell over. I blame the heat…mad dogs and Englishmen, and all that…
Anyway, after our dose of (nearly) morning metal, the others wandered off in the direction of Fear Factory while I took my usual amble around the grounds. This was always vaguely aiming at finding our friend and Bloodstock 05 compatriot Scott, and besides the bit of Fear Factory I caught (including a cover of Pantera’s Walk), my travels also took in the sights and sounds of Orphaned Land and The Dogma. Having heard neither of these bands before, I was pleasantly surprised by both, and very impressed with the talent on show. OL in particular are a very original band, playing progressive metal with middle-eastern influences. Dogma have a very strong following, and are actually reasonably well-established already, but all the same I’m sure their majestic performance won them many new fans besides myself.
Unable to find anyone I knew at all, and disappointed at not being able to catch any of Suidakra due to a delay caused by problems with the roof of the tent, I made a move to get as far forward as possible for Gamma Ray on the main stage. A mere ten rows or so from the front of the stage, I had an awesome time singing along to quite possibly my favourite band of the festival. I’ve seen them once before, but that didn’t make it any less special as they rattled through all the favourites from Gardens of the Sinner through Rebellion in Dreamland, Heavy Metal Universe and many more before finally ending on an encore of Send Me a Sign. Kai Hansen truly is the God of Power Metal and a perfect showman. I’d happily pay a good sum to see them again, and there’s not many bands I say that about these days. A massively powerful fire hose set off sporadically throughout to cool down those of us at the front, and I was mightily cheered by the news of not only a new Gamma Ray DVD (simply entitled Hell Yeah!) but also that they’re finally writing a sequel to their classic concept album Land of the Free. Happy days!
After this I finally managed to meet up with everyone else for Soulfly, whereupon it transpired they had spent much of the time we were apart worshipping/ laughing at the “God of Wacken” – a man asleep/passed out near one of the beer tents, surrounded by “offerings” such as glasses, headscarves and candles (unfortunately there are no pictures of this currently, but if anyone finds any, feel free to tell me). Soulfly entertained us muchly, and proved well worthy of the tag “bouncy metal” which Shirezy so often bestows on them, using a variety of Brazilian and other South American instruments (and, surprisingly to me, guitar solos) to augment their sound. They also threw their trainers into the crowd at the end of their set, which was novel.
By now Matt, Jo and myself were feeling rather drained, and opted to watch Whitesnake, Motörhead and Emperor from the beer garden in order to save energy for Finntroll. It proved well worth it, as you can hear everything from the beer tent anyway (especially Motörhead), and Finntroll are a very jiggy band. By this point our group had swelled to include the Germans (who also seemed to have multiplied) and good fun was had by all, especially singing along to Trollhammaren as the moon shone bright ‘pon the sky above the stage. Finntroll’s new singer, despite being half the size of the last one, and thus not very troll-like really, is every bit as good, if not better, and a far superior showman, and I enjoyed this much more than last time I saw the band.
And so it was that we moved on to the ceremonious last band of the festival. Subway to Sally are another band very much suited to the night time, and so as they crept onto the stage at 2AM to a haunting chorus of Stille Nacht (Silent Night) the atmosphere was very much right. Icy lighting and fake snowstorms provided an excellent backdrop as the band powered through tunes such as Schneekönigin (Snow Queen) and Eisblumen (Ice-flowers) before the pyro kicked in and huge flames shot up the stage for Feuerland (Land of Fire) to kick off the second half of their set. An odd array of instruments from the usual guitars to electric violins, bagpipes and hurdy-gurdies carry the band’s pseudo-gothic sound, and after a few older hits and folk songs they finished up on their most popular anthem, Sieben. After this and an impromptu bagpipe rendition of an old German folk song about a thief (accompanied by more jigging), the crowd eventually scattered back to camp for one final night of partying, which Shirezy unfortunately had to pass on due to a bad apple crêpe…
Sunday 6th August
We went home. I’d elaborate on this, only you’ve seen the amount I’ve written by now, if you’ve even got this far (it’s 7 pages on word). Swift goodbyes, slight transport problems here and there and immense exhaustion, but we got home in the end, thoroughly tanned and stinking of metal. We’ll be back next year (indeed, tickets are already booked!). Ta for reading, and sorry about it being a month late…I’ve been busy (see above, when I’ve got round to it)
Ian
Up early for a Youth Hostel breakfast, which quite frankly (and unsurprisingly) didn't fill us with glee at the thought of German food for a week. After a short spree of giant chess, and a slight amount of confusion on my part with the receptionist's Bavarian accent, we arranged for a taxi to come and pick us up and take us to Wacken. Slightly more than an hour, 80 km and a rather flustered taxi driver later, we arrived at our destination, and Shirezy marked his territory by immediately vomiting out of the door of the taxi, which somewhat suprised the 15 or so metalheads casually lounging around the pavement nearby. On this note, we quickly picked up our bags, paid the taxi driver and scuttled off into Wacken village. 
