I slept every minute that was available for sleep, woke up early for breakfast and photo-sorting, and slept again after that too. When I went to shower, nothing came out of the hot water, and when I went downstairs to report same, I got a cup of coffee that I promptly spilled in its entirety tripping back up the stairs. Because that’s who I am, damnit. If I’m not giving myself a reason to apologize, am I really living? Who would I even be without humiliation?

Freak Yoga before the day started was the right call. Restorative, fun, lighthearted, nonjudgmental and set to heavy music. Basically ideal. If I could bring myself to do it every day, I’m pretty sure I’d live forever. I’m all tight and sore and a bit of stretching and My Sleeping Karma is almost always going to help. The weather again was pretty grim at the start but was forecast to get nicer later on, if cool. I was just happy to not be falling asleep while anyone was playing.

Here’s my day:

Seedy Jeezus

There was a dump of rain a couple minutes before Seedy Jeezus went on, as if to refresh the mud in the photo pit. Ha. It was over by the time the set actually started, and so it was an unmitigated pleasure to see the Australian heavy blues rockers again. Steeped in ’70s, with melancholy in their newer stuff and boogie in the old and kind of both all along, they’re a trio who absolutely bleed the love for what they do on stage, and the smiles and warmth were infectious. Lex Waterreus on guitar and vocals, Paul Crick on bass and Mark Sibson on drums; no pretense, no bullshit, just get up and hit it. Not that I don’t dig elaborate when it’s called for, but Seedy Jeezus’ songs are so human, it would be silly if they played any other way. There was another deluge right about in the middle of their set, rain and wind, and even Waterreus noted being cold as he shook out his arms to loosen up. They mixed it up around stuff from last year’s Damned to the Depths (review here), and the folks in the side tent where I stood were on board for sure, and reasonably so. It wasn’t ideal with the cold and the wet, but it was as close as we were going to get to it, and they kicked ass regardless.

Howling Giant

They brought the sunshine, and their energy was no less life-giving. Was it weird that one of the sets I was most looking forward to this weekend was a band I saw all of three weeks ago? Maybe. I caught the first show of Howling Giant’s Euro tour at Desertfest Oslo (review here), and as this was the last one, the chance to bookend with them — because for some reason no matter how many times I invite myself they never bring me along (I’m kidding) — was something special and so was the set. All smiles, all relief, sun and cool air and harmonies even in the guitar solo of “Sunken City” later on, and you could feel the good time they were having. I stood by the side of the stage up front and was there the whole time after pictures. I didn’t go off to write or get more water or give in to that gotta-move impulse I always seem to feel at these things. I stood, enjoyed it, rocked out a bit, pulled my earplugs out for “Glass Future,” and so on. Somebody in the crowd blew bubbles. Dancing, headbanging, both accommodated by the band’s sound. Barring disaster, this won’t be the last I see of them this year, and I can’t help but look forward to the next one already. A dose of that will keep you going. Safe travels home and thanks to Howling Giant. I didn’t realize how much I needed that. Bonus points to Adrian Zambrano for the ‘fukice’ on his guitar. I’m not sure if that was there in Oslo, but yes.

Super Jet Kinoko

Operating in the finest tradition of dancey weirdo J-psych cosmic throb, Super Jet Kinoko were a left turn from the unabashed hooks of Howling Giant, but the vitality was still there and people were ready for it. I mean, as ready as you could be for the dancing bird, dual vocals, synth and hand-percussion extravaganza they put on. Planet Earth, not ready. Freak Valley though. Pulses from a drum machine added to the physicality, and the costumes even aside from the bird head, were no less on point than the techno aspect. One dude had his hippie sticks out and was going to town in the sunshine as the bassline shifted (dimensions), holding to motion on an ideological level even as they seemed to space out. The most raw-psych band of the fest so far, but clearly over-the-top was what they were going for, so it all made its own kind of sense in its absurdist nonsense. But busy as it was, there was plainly a plan at work, and for being a lot, you never felt like they lost control or didn’t know where they were going next, and that was apparent to me as someone who’d never seen or heard them before. They fit right in — Mr. Mushroomweinerpants jumping into the crowd, etc. — which cannot have been something they were used to doing. But people ate it up, which was really the only way to go.

—

Are you hydrating? What and when did you last eat? Are you taking time to talk to people like a human might? Have you been to the merch yet? How badly do you wish you had your brimmed hat (because you have the beanie The Patient Mrs.’ Mom knit for your giant head) and sunglasses? How about you just find a spot and chill the fuck out? Remember to breathe, you antsy bastard.

—

The Neptune Power Federation

Coming from Sydney, Australia, The Neptune Power Federation were a logical follow-up to Super Jet Kinoko, while bringing a different kind of theatricality to their presentation, at least as far as vocalist Screaming Loz Sutch goes. The songs were straightforward and rooted in classic hard rock, and Sutch was a definite presence on the stage, even beyond the headdress, while the band behind kept things moving with sneaky efficiency. A healthy push kept the crowd going, and I decided I should dig into Mondo Tomorrow, which they released in April and almost immediately followed with a redux of their first record. No, I don’t know the difference between the the original or the new one, but let that be emblematic of an oddball aspect that most definitely came through in the set as well. They covered Ratt’s “Bang Your Head (Metal Health)” — which they also do to close Mondo Tomorrow — and that was fun too, the audience clapping along as the Imperial Priestess Herself soared over one of the catchiest choruses the genre of metal ever produced. Indeed, heads banged. I felt like I needed more coffee to keep up, but no question they were all-in.

The Grand East

Considering their debut EP isn’t out yet, I’m guessing I’m not the only person in the crowd for whom this was a first exposure to The Grand East’s synthy sleaze, but folks have been ready to dance all day and in between their frontman mugging for the Rockpalast cameras, which to be fair were right in his face waiting for it, and the swap between electronic and organic drums, plus keyboards besides, there was plenty enough to help abate even the most persistent cases of the wiggles. Maybe wasn’t my thing, but I’ll check out that EP to confirm that, and I’m no fun anyhow. The assembled masses of Freak Valley, on the other hand, let rip like it was Friday night, which of course it was but you take my point. For being an apparently new band in a killer slot, The Grand East endeared themselves and won people over — helps that everybody loves shorty-shorts, I think, but there were howls — and were by no means dumb musically, careening and boogieing and ’70s here and ’80s there and ’00s garage a bit, taking seemingly disparate ideas and smashing them together like a hadron collider of shove. I went and ate some dinner, which I mention for accountability, and made it back for the finish as they tied it all together and drove the point home. That point? Look out.

Long Distance Calling

Clearly it was time to dig in, and progressive instrumentalists Long Distance Calling were to be the means to that end. The German five-piece celebrate their 20th anniversary this year and have a new album out called The Phantom Void to mark the occasion. Sans-vox prog feels like a setup for a band to be indulgent as hell, but what pulled me in the most was the sense of structure in the material, the fact that they had songs, and in that, I was even a little reminded of Karma to Burn (not a sonic comparison necessarily; more ethical), who of course were also (mostly) steadfast in their instrumental approach. Maybe some of My Sleeping Karma wistfulness in theree too. I guess comparing bands who write songs without singers in mind is pretty weak as regards insight — sorry — but Long Distance Calling were able to immerse their audience without diving headfirst into an effects wash or extended jams. And nothing against a band who does that — I like a lot of heavy instrumental jams — but the tighter rein and steady, methodical builds suited Long Distance Calling, and it wasn’t their fault that after the emergent gorgeousness of the afternoon, the rain started again while they were playing. Not too much, and not nearly enough to stop the people up front from clapping along at all, and fair enough for the reachout in the songs and the impact set alongside some of the float in the guitars. I ended up enjoying it more than I expected to, which sounds like a backhanded compliment but is intended with only the frontest of hands.

—

I was pretty well cooked at this point in the evening. Long day, fair amount of sun, jetlag, old and out of shape; you name it. There was a longer break on the main stage before Messa, which allowed for Darmstadt’s Trails to play a set on the second stage — Greek punkrippers Frenzee did likewise between Messa and Goat — but on the one side of the sky was a gorgeous sunset and it was still raining, so naturally I started looking for the rainbow. It was behind me, of course. Double rainbow at Freak Valley 2026, y’all. Trails were plugging away with riffs and push in ample supply for all, and they pulled a lot of heads over to the corner of the property, but I made my way to a little spot and took the rest where/when I could get it because there was still more night to come, or let’s say the night at all since it was daylight until like 10PM.

We now return to your regularly scheduled review, which you never actually left…

—

Messa

The Italian genremelders started out at a slow burn, and to be honest, that wasn’t what I needed at that point in the day, but dang they were immersive and their sway in those quiet moments is essential to who they are. I get it, is what I’m saying, I was just tired as crap, so when the blastbeats or the next bluesroller riff kicked in, it was refreshing. That expansive stylistic mindset has always felt intentional on the part of Messa. They quickly became masters of their approach, and have reaped acclaim accordingly — hyped far and wode, with a touring impulse to match — and by now they’re professionals as well as creative songwriters, so the hype is thoroughly justified. Melodic, dark, dynamic and continually growing, they were a shift from Long Distance Calling and Trails alike, and I guess from the day in general; there was so much dancing when the sun was out in the afternoon. There was still dancing, plus some making out — I don’t know when P.D.A. in my head went from “public display of affection” to “pathological demand avoidance” (look it up), but it did — and that probably wasn’t unreasonable either. Messa are a band heavy metal is lucky to have.

Goat

I was dead on my feet, which I mention not purely to complain — much as I do love that — but to emphasize the allure of Swedish freak-psych troupe Goat for making me stick around as long as I did. The band were in full regalia, costumes, fleshed out percussion arrangements, boogie from capital ‘e’ Elsewhere. Not my first time seeing them play, but I couldn’t tell you how many years it had been. What hit me about it was that for all the oddities, all the intricacies, all the twists and shuffles and changes and melt-your-chemicals that Goat have going on, so much of their sound relies on Rickenbacker bass as its launchpad. Worldly in the musical sense, they were the last party of the night for those still looking to get down, and you’ll get no argument from me if that was you, but my brain and body were destroyed even before Messa went on, so Goat played me out, and if I’m honest even at that point they put a little bounce in my step. When I got back to the hotel, I put on the Rockpalast stream and was glad to have the chance to do so. Talk about your sole-occupant wavelengths.

—

The cab on my way out said he didn’t take a card. I don’t know why that’s a thing? Cash only? Does that make it easier to rip me off? I don’t even give a shit. Overcharge me. I’m going like a mile down the road. I will pay you 20 euro to get me there, I couldn’t care less. Just let me go to bed, goddamnit.

My fucking hero Alex Fuchs, who runs the transport here, saw me walking up from the AWO grounds to the road, pulled over, and gave me a lift. That is the tip of the iceberg why the first three words of that sentence were “my fucking hero,” but with no signal to get an Uber and no other prospects than standing there and waiting for someone who might take a card from my cashless ass (tomorrow I will get cash somewhere), holy crap was I grateful. Thank you, Alex. Like, forever.

There are more pics after the jump and day three starts with doom yoga shortly. See you there.

Read more »

A lot of good news in the second lineup announcement from Freak Valley Festival. Beyond the always-significant presence of Messa, who I’m pretty sure will be making their first appearance at the fest (pardon me if I’m wrong on that), and the implication of European returns next summer for both Nashville’s Howling Giant and Australian blues rockers Child — who along with Brown Spirits here and the previously-announced Tranquonauts make it three Aussie/part-Aussie acts on the bill; if there’s a quota, I don’t know about it, so they may not be the last — it’s awesome to see Freak Valley dig deep and bring Italian psych conjurers Upupayāma to the proceedings, while Long Distance Calling highlight the meditative instrumental progressivism that’s long been a staple of the festival’s presentation. It’s a killer batch of names, is I guess the point I’m making, even before you get to Zerre or J-psych rockers Super Jet Kinoko.

I’ve been lucky enough to attend Freak Valley for the last four editions. If that luck holds and I get to be there for number five, there are a few here who’ll be among my most anticipated of the hopefully-sunny June weekend.

The following was posted on socials (hence the atsigns) like half an hour ago:

⚡️2nd Band Wave Announcement🫵🏼

Freaks, the next wave is here and it’s a heavy one! Get ready for a wild mix of doom, psych, and trash metal at Freak Valley Festival 2026!

@messa_band bring their dark, soulful take on doom metal, full of atmosphere and emotion!

@longdistancecalling will take you on a powerful instrumental journey through epic soundscapes and dynamic melodies.

@childtheband from Australia deliver pure heavy blues rock, raw, soulful, and full of fuzzy groove.

@howlinggiant blast off with their cosmic stoner rock — big riffs, big energy, and a lot of heart.

@zerre.thrash hit hard with raw noise and distortion, channeling pure intensity straight to the gut.

@upupayama create dreamy, folk-inspired psych sounds that feel like a trip through the Italian mountains.

@brownspirits bring hypnotic krautrock grooves and vintage tones straight out of Melbourne’s underground scene.

@super_jet_kinoko invite you to explore deep, colorful layers of Japanese psychedelic rock.

And don’t forget: tomorrow night at @vortex_surfer_musikclub, @gyasitheband & @iahbanda &@transonic.science will be playing live. At the show, you’ll also be able to buy up to two Freak Valley 2026 tickets per person!

Design: @branca_studio

http://www.freakvalley.de/
http://www.rockfreaks.de/
https://www.instagram.com/freakvalleyfestival/
https://www.facebook.com/freakvalley

Upupayāma, Mount Elephant (2024)

Howling Giant, “Beholder I: Downfall” official video

Child, Soul Murder (2023)

By virtue of the most solid eight hours of sleep I’ve had in the last six months, I was reborn. My first thought this morning when Lee’s alarm went off at nine was “now we’re talking.” Okay, Roadburn. I’m here.

That was a fortunate position to be in, because as will happen in Tilburg each Spring, today was packed. Showered, coffee, a couple crucial changes made, like my pants. Went to the 013 office with Lee for blurbing for the app and such, back to the room, ate an apple that I’d grabbed from the breakfast downstairs, got myself together and ready to jump back into it.

The sun came out as I waited on the line outside The Engine Room. I was glad to have traded purple hoodie for wizard flannel back at the room. 1PM would be an early start to the day with the Throwing Bricks and Ontaard commissioned piece ‘Something to Lose.’ I knew/know precious little about either band, but had heard exciting things, and when you’re here, the commissioned pieces are part of why. An ongoing series of maybe-once-in-a-lifetime performances and collaborations — among the ‘special sets’ that I’ve seen at Roadburns over the years, they’ve been some of the most special — and word was that the two young Utrecht bands, had gone all-in on the project. Something I’d never seen and something, two bands I’d never heard and I’d probably never be able to see otherwise. I don’t take it for granted how par-for-course that is at is at Roadburn.

Barring disaster between now and the end, Thursday will have been the hardest day for me at Roadburn 2025. Usually Friday is pretty rough because I’m through the initial adrenaline of getting here and have to sort of coast on momentum, but that sleep and some food did me good. Lesson learned? Probably not. With the busier schedule of today, though, I was happy for how it worked out.

Even more after Ontaard and Throwing Bricks went on, because the moisture level in the room shot up immediately and it was all snuggles in the tight photo pit. It was too early in the day for me to smell that bad, so I grabbed the shots I could and ended up making my way around the entire room (apologizing to everyone crunched in in the space as I passed excuse me I’m sorry excuse me I’m sorry excuse me I’m sorry I was born, etc.) to get my camera bag from the other side of the photo pit. In hindsight, this was a dumbass move, but I underestimated how many people there would be, despite having waited on line with them outside. I don’t have an excuse. Just a moron. Sorry.

I do hope somebody had the good sense to record ‘Something to Lose,’ though, because it struck me as an effort worth preserving, and it would be cool to hear the depth of the atmospherics against all that bashing away, blast and plod and nod, but if it’s a one-shot and that’s it, take it as a reminder to be present the moment as much as you can. Genre lines rendered as meaningless as they ultimately are, they were cohesive and purposeful as players came and went from the stage, vocalists trading out, spoken word over drones, all leading to a grand finale of upwards of 14 of them on the stage. Quite a thing to behold. Then you get to the music, which was likewise divergent and devastating. I watched from the back, stank but out of the way, and if you believe in Roadburn’s vision of ‘underground futurism,’ in terms of being forward thinking about things to come in heavy anything, it was right there on stage. Consuming.

There was a box of tapes for me at the backstage entrance — not at all aberrant; for years I’ve had all my mail forwarded through the 013 office (not true) — and I had walked down toward the Hall of Fame and seen no end to the line for Midwife, so I booked it up grab that box, dropped it off at the room, drank water and ate a protein cookie, washed up a bit — didn’t shower for a second time, but the thought occurred to me — and changed the now-smelly tshirt I had on for a fresh one. Wouldn’t save me the rest of the day as it was sunny and warmer than Thursday, but one does what one can. I popped in somewhat casually to check out a few minutes of De Mannen Broeders, which is Colin H. van Eeckhout from Amenra and Broeder Dieleman, both also performing solo at some point in the weekend, I believe. Well, Eeckhout definitely was, since his double-duty solo set was next after De Mannen Broeders finished, in the same room.

Before either Dieleman or van Eeckhout came out, a choir sang. I stuck around long enough to see them depart and the two principals, as well as a piano player on a baby grand, take up the vocal duties. It was moody and introverted, but still ‘folk’ in the way of folk music as human expression of humanity. Accordingly, somebody farted. All told, I was there for maybe 15 minutes, and then I realized Messa was on in a few over at the Main Stage, about to bring their new album, The Spin (review here), to life before an anxious throng of an audience.

In the interest of honesty, it was the photo pit of the weekend I was most dreading and I was right. But that’s why I’ve been carrying around the big lens this whole time. Messa came out after their intro and dove into the record with poise and flow, and as it was my first time seeing them — not the fault of any lack of touring on their part, mind you — to witness the charisma and performance first-hand, never mind the stylistic innovation of the songs themselves, they left no question as to how Metal Blade Records got on board for the release. They sounded like an idea whose time had come. It was heavy, lovely, sad and bold in kind, and though The Spin had only been out for a week, the room was ready for it.

Standing in the hallway, I ran into Lee. We had a quick debate about whether Messa were metal or not — I’m in the ‘pro’ camp — and eventually landed on a kind of goth metal. I might throw the word progressive in there, if only to account for the stupid amount of talent in the band. I went in the back downstairs for the end of Messa and had a little break before I needed to be anywhere, which I used to sit on ass and look at the rest of the day. I knew I wanted to finish out with Gnod and White Hills up the road at Koepelhal, so I decided to make my way there and settle in. I’d been back and forth already, but was in no rush. Found a sun-adjacent shady spot and parked for a few to watch the world go by.

I brought my sunglasses on this trip, but the trouble is I like them and I don’t think I’ve ever worn a pair at a festival anywhere on the planet and had that pair make it from beginning to end. To live in the now, or to squint. That was the (dumb) question.

The tradeoff for being awake was antsiness. I had a really good spot, but after about 10 minutes, I started getting itchy, got up and left. Where was I headed? To food, it turned out. I had thought I was going to go the photo pit for Envy on the 013 Main Stage, but my body took me downstairs for some chicken instead. Pounded that in all of three minutes, downed and refilled my water bottle, and by then Envy were on. The photo pit was going, but on a whim I decided to revert to my original intention, which was to see Pygmy Lush at The Engine Room, back up the block at the Koepelhal. So I got my back and forth in, but also food, which was solid strategy because I missed lunch. There was still a lot of day to go.

I didn’t know Pygmy Lush at all, either personally or musically, but the Virginian outfit are friends of a friend and I think mostly if not entirely comprised of members from pg.99, who were also on the bill, so on a day where nothing I’d thus far seen I’d ever seen before — that’s Ontaard and Throwing Bricks, De Mannen Broeders, Messa and Envy — it made sense to keep the thread going. Not even one of them I’d seen. I’m not trying to paint myself like generally I’m Mr. Watchedeverybandever, because I’m not and I haven’t, but such days for me are rarer than not at a festival.

Not lost on me that that thread occurred to me while I stopped for the first time today to really take a purposeful break, as I did sitting and waiting for Pygmy Lush l. It gave me a frame in which to place the day, and even though my one remaining must for Roadburn Friday — Gnod and White Hills — was comprised of two acts I’d seen individually, their ‘Drop Out’ collaboration would give me a chance to appreciate their work in a new way, and was something that had never happened on stage before. So, close enough for me. A whole day of musical first exposures. What a gift to get.

Pygmy Lush were not without tonal presence, but we’re coming from a mellow place in terms of spirit, and with three guitarists, two with vocals, the songs had texture and melody and were thoughtful in the delivery of both. Not uptempo, but affirming in a fragile way. They had no merch and said so, warned the crowd when there were two songs left, and were laid back on the stage, which made it all the more human as they unfurled contemplative Americana with intermittent fuller breakouts that filled the space otherwise purposely left open in the sound. A little shuffle, a little push, but I’m the era of vibes, they were one, and I was glad to have made the walk back to Koepelhal. They finished about as loud as they got and the place went off. I watched the whole set.

This morning, back at the office of the 013, we put a headline on the blurbs that went out with the day’s picks. I had a few, Lee, the esteemed José Carlos Santos, whose bibliography is intimidating but who is decidedly not a dick, Walter, and Dan Pietersen, who writes for Lee. Too many dudes by any measure, but it was sort of a last-minute thing anyway. The headline we ended up going with was, ‘The Sonic Journey Continues,’ and absolutely that’s kind of corny. We knew that when we went with it, but being here, especially the way my Friday had panned out, the cliché feels pretty well earned, and I’m not sure I would want to say it another way. Because there is a certain amount of buying in you have to do as an audience member. If you’re going to stand there cross-armed and cynical, you’ve already missed the point of coming to Roadburn. Shit yeah, be on that sonic journey. At the end of this weekend we’re all going to go back to lives, jobs, families and/or situations that involve various combinations of all of the above. This time is precious and scant. Why let yourself miss it?

Yeah, said the guy who had eight real-life hours of sleep last night. I know. But let part of my holding onto the moment be appreciating that as well as part of what’s made my experience of the day possible. Surely I wouldn’t have the energy for all this navelgazing if I was poorly rested.

In the years since Roadburn started putting bands at the Koepelhal — there is a part of me for whom it’s still a novelty, but it’s been a while by now — you’ve been able to cross from the Engine Room to The Terminal without leaving the building, and the merch was set up between. This year it’s under construction. Merch is elsewhere right down the sidewalk, and you walk outside and around the corner of the building to get to The Terminal. I have to think that makes lines easier to manage, but it can be surprising to walk out into bright daylight. I guess my inner goth was shocked after Pygmy Lush. Spoiler though: there is no inner goth.

Said the robot voice: “Thank you. It is time to take you to paradise. It is a cold, black paradise. Thank you.” This was how Zombie Zombie introduced the penultimate song they would play. They were killer. Total switch in spirit from Pygmy Lush into krautrocking weirdo psychedelic techno with live drums — sometimes two of the three members would be playing them on opposite sides of the stage, and a bit of cosmic sax early, but an unrepentant danciness at the heart of it all. You could tag them as experimental in form, since that’s almost certainly part of what they do, but their songs, though largely instrumental but for the what came through the robo-effect mic, and that was fine, because while space is dark and endless, it’s also constantly in motion in all directions at once according to the math.

Zombie Zombie weren’t quite ‘dark energy’-level powernerds, but the movement was essential just the same. The earlier dance party gave way to more of a build as they moved through their 50-minute set — loaded with temporal distortions as it was — and I went to stand next to the soundboard to take it all in, the throb of bass in wub wub wub thud thud thud, the video behind them raining code like The Matrix used to do. With a higher synth drone and low pulsing beat, a pickup on the drums and strong notion of being all-in for the far-out, and they had people dancing the entire time. It wasn’t aggressive and it wasn’t threatening unless you’re the genre status quo, but they were heavy in a different way than anything I’ve seen this weekend if not ever, and no less so for all that fun.

There was any half an hour before Human Impact went on, and I did find a way between the two rooms from the back of The Terminal. Easy enough. Sat in the photo pit for a quiet few, fell down a hole on my phone and wrote while the band did a line check. They’ve been around at least since the pandemic — I’m not a huge noise rock guy, but I don’t know if you get to be into underground heavy anything in the New York metro area (where I live) and not respect the shit out of Unsane, and Chris Spencer’s involvement in Human Impact was what first grabbed my attention about the band. I haven’t covered everything they’ve done, but with Eric Cooper from Made Out of Babies on bass, who I remember going to see play in Brooklyn the better part of 20 years ago, Cop Shoot Cop’s Jim Coleman on keyboard and Jon Syverson from Daughters on drums, I don’t think I’d be the first to call them super in the group sense, but onstage the impression was far different from the egotism that designation implies.

A bleak, not-inaccurate portrayal of now in music, Human Impact fused noise rock and industrial sounds and atmospheres, were vivid in message and heft, sometimes raging but not all the time, and when the keys and riffs diverged, they seemed to hit that much harder upon coming back together. Cooper mostly backed Spencer’s vocals, but with some input from Coleman as they pushed toward the dark noise apocalypse that was promised but never materialized in the ’90s when some of the same formula was put to much worse use by far too many bands. In Human Impact, the clash of organic and inorganic was resonant, and the aggression seethe was palpable on stage, in no small part because they threw it at you from there and it would be hard to miss. The finish — I didn’t know the title but did recognize the crush — was like grim concrete.

My night would close as planned, with Gnod and White Hills at The Terminal. At a fest this broad, you can make your own way, find your sound and your people. Ideally, anyhow. Gnod Drop Out With White Hills was the official billing, with the ‘Drop Out’ in reference to the collaborative album NYC’s preeminent psych freaks and Gnod, from Salford, UK, who surely are keeping themselves busy these days saying no to the psycho right-wing capitalist fascist industrial death machine, as they once put it. I was there for the line check and even that was hypnotic. Chat Pile were about to go on for a secret show I saw in the TMSQR app, but nah.

With Ego Sensation’s persistent tom and snare as the beating heart of the proceedings, Gnod and White Hills didn’t so much drop out as they did force one to question whether they were ever in to begin with. I did my best with the camera in the lights and fog early in the set — photographic evidence of alien life would be quite a coup for a middle-aged blogger — but whatever. I was honestly more concerned with watching them than taking pictures. Crazy, I know.

Builds of synth along with the guitars of Dave W. and Gnod’s Paddy Shine gave a sense of expanse with the bass crying the groove alongside the drums, and by the time vocals came in, it was a genuine churn, with a depth of mix that came through even by the side of the stage, let alone over in back. Entrancing heavy psych from masters of the form, in a collab that goes back at least a decade, tearing holes in the universe together on stage for the first time. Something special. I don’t know how many times I even said that today, but start to finish, that’s what it was. Careening and cascading, the joint project rode my day out on a chariot with a wizard painted on the side, and scorched the ground beneath them like rockets at takeoff. I’ve done a lot of really stupid shit in my life. I’m not a particularly good person. I’m not kind. But I had to look around me as the one where they kept going “unified…” hit its comedown and understand that whatever I’ve made worse about the planet during my time on it, I’d done something right if I was standing there.

I went back to the room to finish out the night, sort photos, etc. I had done more back and forth than I’d intended throughout the day and was exhausted with work to do, but no regrets whatsoever for how Friday panned out. Hard to believe there are two more days of Roadburn left.

Thanks for reading. More pics after the jump.

Read more »

A lot going on today, not the least of which is the Spring 2025 Quarterly Review passing the halfway mark. Normally this would’ve happened yesterday, but half of 70 records is 35 and unless I’ve got the math wrong that’s where we’re at here. It’s a decent time to check and see if there’s anything you’ve missed over the last couple days. You never know how something will hit you the next time.

The adventure continues…

Quarterly Review #31-40:

Messa, The Spin

Now signed to Metal Blade — which is about as weighty as endorsements get for anything heavy these days — Italy’s Messa emerge from the pack as cross-genre songwriters working at a level of mastery across their fourth album, The Spin, elevating riff-led songs with vocal melodicism and aesthetic flexibility. “Fire on the Roof” is a hook ready to tattoo itself to your brain, while “The Dress” dwells in its ambience before getting intense and deceptively technical — just because a band dooms out doesn’t mean they can’t play — ahead of the Iommi-circa-’80 solo’s payoff. It’s all very grand, very sweeping, very encompassing, very talented and expensive-sounding. “At Races” and “Reveal” postulate a single ‘Messa sound’ that someone more important than me will come up with a clever name for, and the band’s ascent of the last nine years will continue unabated as they’re heralded among the foremost stylistic innovators of their generation. You won’t be able to say they didn’t earn it.

Messa on Bandcamp

Metal Blade Records website

—

After Nations, Surface | Essence

Kansas-based heavy djent instrumentalists After Nations offer their fifth full-length, Surface | Essence, with a similar format to 2023’s The Endless Mountain (review here), and, fortunately, a similarly crushing ethic. Where the prior album explored Buddhist concepts, the band seem to have traded that for Hinduist themes, but the core approach remains in a mix of sounds churning and progressive. Meshuggah are a defining influence in the heavier material, but each ‘regular’ song (about four minutes) is offset by a shorter (about a minute) ambient piece of one sort or another, and so while Surface | Essence gives a familiar core impression, what the band add to that — including in short, Between the Buried and Me-ish quiet breaks like in “Yāti” and “Vīrya” — is their own. Not to harp on it, but the last record played out the same way and it worked there too. Eventually, one assumes, the two sides will bleed together and they’ll lay waste with that all their mathy interconnected atmospheric assault. As-is, the gigantism of their heaviest parts serves them well.

After Nations website

After Nations’ Linktr.ee

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Lost Moon, The Complicated Path to the Multiverse

Taking its chiaroscuro thematic to a meta level, The Complicate Path to the Multiverse breaks its eight-song procession in half, with four heavy rockers up front followed by four acoustic-based cuts thereafter. It’s not a hard and fast rule — there’s still some funky wah in the penultimate “When it’s All Over,” for example — but it lets the Roman troupe give a sense of build as they make their way to “Cradle of Madness” in drawing the two sides of light and dark together. The lyrics do much of the heavier lifting in terms of the theme — that is, the heavier material isn’t overwhelmingly grim despite being the ‘darker’ side — but they let tonal crunch have its say in that regard as well, and side A brings to mind heavy rockers with a sense of progressivism like Astrosoniq while side B pays that off with a creative turn. If you don’t know what you’re getting going into it, the songwriting carries the day anyhow, and as laid back as the groove gets, there’s an urgency of expression underlying the delivery.

Lost Moon on Bandcamp

Pink Tank Records website

Karma Conspiracy Records website

—

Bident, Blink

Likely no coincidence that London instrumentalist guitar/drum duo Bident — get it, bi-dent? two teeth? there are two of them in the band? ah forget it — launch their debut album, Blink, with “Psychological Raking.” That opener lives up to its billing in its movement between parts and sets up the overarching quirk and delight-in-throwing-a-twist that the subsequent eight tracks provide, shenanigans abound in “Calorina Leaper,” “Thhinking With a Moshcap On” and “Blink,” which renews the drum gallop at the end. With a noteworthy character of fuzz, Blink can accommodate the push of “Two-Note Pony” — which sure sounds like there’s bass on it — the nod in “Bovine Joni” and the sprint that takes hold in the second half of “That Sad,” and their use of the negative space where other instruments or vocals might be is likewise purposeful, but they don’t sound like they’re lacking in terms of arrangements thanks to the malleability of tone and tempo throughout. They operate in a familiar sphere, but there’s persona here that will come to fruition as they proceed.

Bident on Instagram

Bident on Bandcamp

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Harvest of Ash, Castaway

Death-sludge and post-metallic lumber ooze forth from the five songs of Harvest of Ash‘s second full-length, Castaway, which keeps its atmospheric impulses in check through grounded riffing and basslines as the whole band takes straightforward nod and extreme metal methodologies and smashes them together in a grueling course like that of “Embracing.” Remember in like 1996 when a band like Skinlab or Pissing Razors could just make you feel like you needed to take a shower? There’s a bit of that happening on Castaway as well in the opening title-track or the nine-minute “Constellation” later on, what with its second-half murk and strident riff, but a turn to quieter contemplations or a flash of brighter tone, whatever it is that offsets the churn in a given song, gives breadth to all that misanthropic plodding and throaty gurgle. Accordingly, Harvest of Ash end up both aggressive and hypnotic. I’m not sure it is, at least entirely, but Castaway positions itself as post-metal, and if it is, it is its own interpretation of the style’s tropes.

Harvest of Ash on Bandcamp

Harvest of Ash’s Linktr.ee

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Vlimmer, Diskomfort EP

Berlin’s Vlimmer — the solo-project of multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, label head and producer Alexander Leonard Donat — return on a not-surprising quick turnaround from late-’24’s full-length, Bodenhex (review here) with six new tracks that include a Super Furry Animals cover of “It’s Not the End of the World?” and quickly establish a goth-meets-new-wave electro dance melancholy in “Firmament” that gives over to the German-language “Ungleichgewicht,” residing stylistically somewhere between The Cure and krautrock experimentalism. Guitar comes forward in “Friedhofen,” but Donat keeps the mood consistent on Diskomfort where the album ranged more freely, and even as the title-track moves into its finishing wash, the bumout remains. And I don’t know if that’s an actual harpsichord on “Nachleben,” but it’s a reminder that the open arrangements are part of what keeps me coming back to Vlimmer, along with the fact that they don’t sound like anything else out there that I’ve heard, the music is unpredictable, and they take risks in craft.

Vlimmer on Instagram

Blackjack Illuminist Records on Bandcamp

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Duskhead, The Messenger EP

When Duskhead posted “Two Heads” in December from their The Messenger four-songer EP, it was the first new music from the Netherlands-based rockers in a decade. Fair enough to call it a return, then, as the band — which features members culled from Tank86 and The Grand Astoria — unfurl a somewhat humble in everything but the music 15 minutes of new material. “My Guitar Will Save the Day” answers the Elder-ish vocal melody with a fervent Brant Bjork-style roll, while “Kill the Messenger” cuts the tempo for a more declarative feel and “Searchlights” takes that stomp and makes it swing to round out, some layering at the end feeling like it’s dropping hints of things to come, though one hesitates to predict momentum for a band who just got back after 11 years of silence. Still, if they’re going for it, there’s life in this material and ground to be explored from here. Concept proven. Back to work.

Duskhead website

Duskhead on Bandcamp

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The Watcher, Out of the Dark

Plenty to hear in The Watcher‘s Cruz Del Sur-issued late-2024 debut Out of the Dark as the Boston unit — not to be confused with San Fran rockers The Watchers — unfurl the Trouble-and-Pentagram-informed take on traditionalist metal. The title-track opens and makes an energetic push while calling to mind ’80s metal in the hook, where “Strike Back” and the lead-heavy “Burning World” emphasize the metal running alongside the doom in their sound. Time for a big slowdown? You guessed it. They fall off the edge the world with “Exiled,” but rather than delve into epic Sabbathianism right then, they break into to the thrashier “The Revelator,” which only gets grittier as it goes. “Kill or Be Killed” and “The Final Hour” build on this vitality before the capper “Thy Blade, Thy Blood” saves its charge for the expected but still satisfying crescendo. Fans of Crypt Sermon and Early Moods will want to take particular note.

The Watcher on Bandcamp

Cruz Del Sur Music website

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Weed Demon, The Doom Scroll

Each of the six inclusions on Weed Demon‘s cleverly-titled third long-player, The Doom Scroll, adds something to the mix, so while one might look at the front cover, the Columbus, Ohio, band’s moniker and general presentation and think they’re only basking in weed-worshipping dirt-riffed sludge, that’s not actually the case. Instead, “Acid Dungeon” starts off with dungeon synth foreboding before the instrumental “Tower of Smoke” lulls you into sludgenosis before “Coma Dose” brings deathlier vibes and, somewhere, a guest appearance from Shy Kennedy (ex-Horehound), “Roasting the Sacred Bones” strips back to Midwestern pummel circa 2002 in its stoned Rustbelt disaffection, “Dead Planet Blues” diverges for acoustics and the vinyl-only secret track “Willy the Pimp,” a Frank Zappa cover, closes. By the end of the record, Weed Demon are revealed as decidedly more complex than they seem to want to let on, but I suppose if you’re numbed out on whichever chemical derivative of THC it is that actually does anything, it’s all riffs one way or the other. You want THC-P, by the way. THC-A, the ‘a’ stands for “ain’t about shit.” I’m gonna guess Weed Demon know the difference.

Weed Demon on Bandcamp

Electric Valley Records website

Daily Grind Records on Facebook

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Nuclear Dudes, Compression Crimes 1

The one-man solo-project of Jon Weisnewski (also of Sandrider, formerly of Akimbo), Nuclear Dudes released the rampaging full-length Boss Blades (review here) in 2023, glorious in both its extremity-fueled catharsis and its anti-genre fuckery. Weisnewski described the seven-song EP Compression Crimes 1 as “a synthwave album, probably,” and he might be right about that, but it’s definitely not just that. “Death at Burning Man” brings unruly techno until it lands in Mindless Self Indulgence pulsations, where “Tomb Crawler” surges near its end with metallic lashing. “Skyship” is so good at being electro-prog it’s almost obnoxious, and that too feels like the point as Weisnewski sees through creative impulses that are so much his own. Sleeper outfit, maybe. Never gonna be huge. But if you can find someone else making this kind of noise, you’re better at the internet than I am.

Nuclear Dudes on Instagram

Nuclear Dudes on Bandcamp

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Dayum. SonicBlast Fest came out hard with its first lineup announcement and things have only gotten more heartstirring since then. In a new round of 13 lineup adds, they bring King Woman, Messa, Monolord, King Buffalo, The Atomic Bitchwax, Daily Thompson, Vinnum Sabbathi, Castle Rat, Tō Yō, Witchthroat Serpent and more to the bill, and when you look at the rest of the poster and see Fu Manchu, My Sleeping Karma, Earthless, Slomosa, Gnoma, Daevar, Amenra, Emma Ruth Rundle and so on, yeah, fair to call it compelling, not that “weekend on the beach in Portugal” should be a hard sell on its own either.

And while you’re looking at the poster below, surely you’ll also note the part where it says there’s more to come. I don’t know that that’ll be another full round of 13 bands, but honestly, SonicBlast is always packed, so anything’s possible. I was there in 2023 and it was awesome. Great place, nice people, and I learned how to order espresso in Portuguese, which was a bonus. If you can get there, you should take a look, is all I’m saying. I even left the emojis intact.

The following comes from socials:

13 is the magic number 🔥🔥

We’re so thrilled to confirm 13 new bands for the great reunion of weight and psychedia that will once again – for the 13th time! – take place in August, on the already mythical Duna dos Caldeirões beach ⚡️🔥

King Woman, Monolord, Chalk, Ditz, King Buffalo, Messa, Castle Rat, Dead Ghosts, The Atomic Bitchwax, Witchthroat Serpent, Vinnum Sabbathi, Tō Yō, Daily Thompson will join us at our wild party ⚡️

King Woman
Monolord
Chalk
Ditz
King Buffalo
Messa
Castle Rat
Dead Ghosts
The Atomic Bitchwax
Witchthroat Serpent
Vinnum Sabbathi
Tō Yō
Daily Thompson

Tickets are already available at BOL and Masqueticket (links in bio)

If you’re in Portugal you can also buy your ticket at Fnac, Worten and Ctt stores

Artwork by @branca_studio

https://www.facebook.com/sonicblastmoledo/
https://www.instagram.com/sonicblast_fest
https://sonicblastfestival.com/

Daily Thompson, Chuparosa (2024)

This is the second of two-so-far updates that Desertfest Oslo has posted over the weekend for its 2025 edition. Last week brought Graveyard, Eagle Twin, Cult Member and Slor to the bill, and this past weekend, it was Pallbearer, Messa, Barren Womb and Grand Atomic. These are not minor considerations on a lineup that already included Elder, Oranssi Pazuzu, Elephant Tree, Truckfighters, DVNE and others, and if I have my understanding of the advent calendar right, there should be two more such announcements still to come. Whether the lineup is complete at that point or not, I have no idea, but the poster’s starting to look pretty packed, for whatever that’s worth.

The announcement this time around is pretty minimal — just the names — which is fair enough. I’ve written a fair amount of festival-announcement text in my time, and for sure have wondered on more than one occasion if anyone ever bothered to read any of it while presuming the negative. Sometimes I actually do read it, because you usually get a pretty tight encapsulation of what a band you don’t know might sound like, but I have to acknowledge that that habit is based on the writing, which isn’t going to be everybody’s experience. The names were linked to social media pages when the fest posted them, so it wasn’t like they were giving you nothing to go on, in any case. Leads were provided. It’s more than you get from me. I just ramble on.

Here’s this week looking forward to next week. See how this works? Weekly. It’s called “weekly.” Here we go:

Second Sunday of advent is here. 🎄

BOOM! 💥☄️

Pallbearer (US)
MESSA (IT)
Barren Womb (NO)
Grand Atomic (NO)

Make sure to get your tickets – you don’t wanna miss Desertfest Oslo 2025!

Event page: https://www.facebook.com/events/869859364817843/

https://www.facebook.com/desertfestoslo
https://www.instagram.com/desertfest_oslo
https://www.desertfest.no/

Pallbearer, Mind Burns Alive

Heyo, just a word here as Roadburn does that Roadburn pre-holiday thing and announces a butt-ton of acts for next year’s festival before things get (outwardly) quieter for the next month or so. I know the narrative as regards the festival is that they’ve expanded from their beginnings, let go of the stoner rock stuff and all this, and to a certain point, that’s probably true. But among these almost-30 bands and artists, check out just how much heavy, psych, space and generally-out-there shit there is. Like, a ton.

Gnod & White Hills — who just announced a new collaborative album today — and Messa (I haven’t seen that album announcement but assume it’s coming unless I just missed it; it’s apparently called The Spin) playing full LPs, Coilguns, Smote, Thou, Zombie Zombie, Pothamus who I recently got put onto — some of it is spaced out and some of it is trippy, but if you’re looking for tonal presence, I don’t think it’s going to be in short supply.

That they also happen to be open-minded around this, such that Dødheimsgard and Chat Pile can exist on the same bill with Cinder Well, Faetooth and a Kylesa reunion, I don’t think is a weakness. At least it doesn’t seem to be looking at the new poster art, which I’ll just say flat out I prefer to 2024’s. I got to attend Roadburn earlier this year for the first time in five years, and it was magic and emotional both. I don’t know that I’ll be invited back for 2025 — because, really, why would I? — but this announcement does nothing at all to uncross my superstitious fingers.

The PR wire brought the latest:

Roadburn adds 29 new names to the 2025 lineup including envy, Oranssi Pazuzu, Thou, Gilla Band, Midwife, Steve Von Till and more

Roadburn has announced a further 29 names for the 2025 edition of the festival. Among the artists confirmed are several who will return to Roadburn – such as Thou, Messa, and Oranssi Pazuzu – and many who will be making their Roadburn debut – such as Envy, Tristwych y Fenywod, and Curses. Steve Von Till and Midwife have also been announced as artists in residence, both performing multiple times over the course of the festival. Roadburn 2025 will take place in Tilburg, The Netherlands between April 17-20.

Roadburn’s artistic director Walter Hoeijmakers comments:

“This announcement shows the broad scope of heaviness at Roadburn 2025. There are artistic, musical and emotional boundaries being pushed, and we are hosting up-and-coming acts making their festival debuts alongside longstanding luminaries. We are looking to the future, to our roots, and in all directions in the present to find those defying the perceived limits of genre in the underground. We know there are no limits.”

The new names added to Roadburn 2025 are as follows:

Bambara: brooding post-punk from New York

Big Brave performing their latest, critically acclaimed album A Chaos of Flowers

Blind Girls will make the trek from Australia to bring their frenetic screamo to Roadburn

Buñuel’s off-kilter noise rock will be presided over by enigmatic frontman Eugene S. Robinson

CHVE is the intense and intimate outlet for the solo work of Amenra’s Colin H. van Eeckhout

Coilguns will perform their new album Odd Love in its entirety.

Curses (Live) are set to deliver their neon-lit post-punk/electro hybrid

Dødheimsgard will bring their iconic combination of progressive black metal and avant-garde industrial as they perform their latest album, Black Medium Current

envy will make their long awaited Roadburn debut, performing A Dead Sinking Story in full as well as a modern era/Eunoia set

Gilla Band will revisit the Early Years with a noise-rock set that throws back to their roots

Gillian Carter hail from Orlando, Florida and will bring their distinctive brand of screamo to Tilburg in April.

Glassing head to Europe for just the second time to showcase their post-everything sound and bristling live energy.

Gnod & White Hills unite to perform their legendary Gnod Drop Out With White Hills II album

Great Falls fuse noise rock and hardcore in a discordant, emotion driven sonic purge

Messa return to Roadburn to play their upcoming new album, The Spin, in full.

Michael Gira and Kristof Hahn (SWANS) will present an intimate set of new and rarely heard compositions.

Midwife (Artist In Residence) – Madeline Johnston AKA Midwife will return to Roadburn – this time as an artist in residence – where she will perform three times, including a set with Vyva Melinkolya and a commissioned performance of her new album, No Depression In Heaven

Oranssi Pazuzu return to the festival with a very special performance of their latest release, Muuntautuja

Pothamus have just announced a brand new album, Abur, which they will perform in full at Roadburn 2025.

Pygmy Lush will play their first show in Europe at Roadburn, bringing their dark Americana to Roadburn.

Smote will expand to an eight-piece ensemble to perform their latest album, A Grand Stream

Steve Von Till (Artist In Residence) – we have invited Steve to be an artist in residence to honour his incredible musical legacy and shine a light on his future creative endeavours; he will perform two full sets and unite with artist Thomas Hooper for a collaborative audio-visual exhibition.

Thou will perform their latest album, Umbilical, in full on the main stage.

Tristwch Y Fenywod bring their folky Welsh-language incantations to Tilburg.

Violent Magic Orchestra blend black metal and electronics to dizzying effect

Vuur & Zijde feature members of Laster, Silver Knife, Terzij de Horde and more – and will make their live debut performing their album, Boezem

Vyva Melinkolya will play her first show in Europe, bringing her emotionally heavy dreamgaze to Roadburn.

Witch Club Satan rip up the rule book of black metal, embracing the feminine and the theatrical along the way.

Zombie Zombie combine groovy electronics and trippy motorik rhythms in their psychedelic sound

More information on these artists can be found HERE: https://roadburn.com/line-up/

They will join a slew of previously announced artists including Chat Pile, ØXN, Sumac, Altin Gun, and Kylesa.

All ticket and accommodation options for Roadburn are now on sale. For all information including tickets, please visit www.roadburn.com

https://www.facebook.com/roadburnfestival/
http://www.instagram.com/roadburnfest
http://www.roadburn.com

Thou, Umbilical (2024)

There was little question left between the upward trajectory of Italy’s Messa since their 2016 debut, Belfry (discussed here), the continued success and stylistic innovation of 2018’s Feast for Water (review here) and 2022’s Svart-issued Close (review here) and the consistent international touring ethic with which the band have supported and fostered their songwriting progression. They were going to end up on some ‘bigger’ label. The only question was which, and the answer is Metal Blade.

Yeah, I’m late on the news, which came through last week — ahead of the band starting their Fall European run, for which you’ll find the dates below, including the ones already passed — but I was doing a Quarterly Review, so while it still applies that I suck at this and everyone’s cooler than me, the usual blah blah, at least this time I have a reason.

So what’s next for the band? The tour they’re doing, then who knows. Maybe an early leak of some new material to build interest, or maybe they keep it all under wraps and surprise-drop an LP at some point in 2025. Let’s say probably neither and look forward to whatever comes. Here’s the PR wire’s take:

Messa Signs to Metal Blade Records!

Metal Blade is very happy to welcome Italian Doomster MESSA to it’s Worldwide roster!

MESSA play evoking doom metal with middle-eastern vibes. Deliciously haunting female vocals, 70’s guitars and Arabian Oudh combine to conjure a sound that is all of their own. With influences as diverse as Dead Can Dance, Om, Swans, Killing Joke, Electric Wizard, Thergothon, Current 93, the band has moved from the first occult then noir-tinged doom metal of their previous works to a new atmospheric mediterranean sound which is unique. The evolution is clearly showcased in their latest studio album “Close”.

MESSA emerged in the first day of 2014. Marco and Sara started to develop the basic concept while writing the first songs. Later on, Alberto and Rocco joined the band. The extreme diversity of their musical background immediately proved to be essential in the construction of the band’s sound. In 2016 their first opus “Belfry” was released, and the band made several tours across Europe and USA. In 2018 their second work “Feast For Water” brought the band on tour even more extensively. Their latest studio work “Close”, released in 2022, was acclaimed by critics. Some appearances made by the band were Hellfest Open Air, Roadburn, and Desert Fest. The band’s latest record Live At Roadburn was released April 7th 2023, offering their main-stage triumph, joined by a unique constellation of musicians and instruments. Seeming to both embrace and defy everything it means to be a metal band, MESSA mesh Mediterranean sounds with crushing doom riffs, with an emphasis on atmosphere and unusual use of instrumentation.

Comments MESSA: “We’re glad to announce we’ve joined forces with legendary Metal Blade Records. We are beyond stoked to become part of the incredible legacy of this label, marking their catalog with our music. Since 1982 Metal Blade has put fundamental metal artists on the map, and being in this labels’ roster is a big honor for us. We can’t wait to share some glimpses of what we are working on! In the meantime you can catch our live shows in the following European cities, list below.”

MESSA live 2024:
Thursday 17/10/2024 CH Martigny Sunset
Friday 18/10/2024 DE Freiburg Artik Club
Saturday 19/10/2024 DE Braunschweig Kufa Haus
Sunday 20/10/2024 BE Antwerp Desertfest
Monday 21/10/2024 DE Aachen AZ
Tuesday 22/10/2024 DE Berlin Cassiopeia
Wednesday 23/10/2024 PL Warsaw VooDoo
Thursday 24/10/2024 PL Poznan 2Progi
Friday 25/10/2024 DE Chemnitz AJZ
Saturday 26/10/2024 DE Hamburg Lazy Bones
Sunday 27/10/2024 NL Maastricht Samhain Festival
Saturday 9/11/2024 ITA Catania Catania Tattoo convention
Friday 13/12/2024 AT Linz Kapu
Saturday 14/12/2024 DE Stuttgart Hellgart Festival

MESSA line-up:
Sara – vocals
Marco – guitars/bass
Alberto – guitars
Rocco – drums

https://www.instagram.com/messa_band/
https://www.facebook.com/MESSAproject
https://messaproject.bandcamp.com/

http://www.metalblade.com
http://www.facebook.com/metalbladerecords
http://www.instagram.com/metalbladerecords

Messa, Close (2022)