Posted in Whathaveyou on February 4th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
FreakValley 2026 has been sold out for months at this point, but if you think that would prevent the Netphen, Germany-based execution of the heavy-hippie ideal from adding more badassery to its bill, well, you probably haven’t stopped to think about the reason it’s already been sold out for months. Did that make sense? I don’t know, but the point is Freak Valley looks friggin’ awesome, again, still, whatever. From Uncle Acid and Goat at the top of the bill on down, taking in the now-complete lineup gives some sense of the sonic scope of the thing, surely broadened by bringing in the likes of Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs, Messa, Goat and Tranquonauts, and yeah. If you’re one of the few who managed to get tickets before they were gone, you don’t need me to tell you.
I’ve been lucky enough to attend Freak Valley four times now, and the atmosphere, the people, the music, the presentation, the location, the setup of merch and distractions, the sprinklers and little corners in the shade to cool off — it’s got everything you could want and more you woudn’t even think of like when they light the trees up at night and for just a moment it’s kind of like what the whole world could be if only it were entirely different than it is. A sanctuary of sound for weirdos, and an incredible time, to say the least.
From social media:
FREAK VALLEY FESTIVAL 2026 – 🔥FINAL ADDITIONS 🔥
The last bands to complete this year’s Freak Valley line-up – and what a way to finish things off.
@pigsx7 Hailing from the UK, they deliver massive riffs, raw energy and pure intensity. One of the most uncompromising heavy bands of the last decade – loud, hypnotic and impossible to ignore.
@seedyjeezus Coming all the way from Australia, Seedy Jeezus bring raw, expansive psychedelic rock with a love for long jams. Trippy, loud and perfect for getting lost in the moment.
@margaritawitchcult Straight out of the UK with dark, fuzz-drenched heavy rock and a fierce attitude. Fast, filthy and straight to the point – exactly how we like it.
@sunnataofficial From Poland, Sunnata combine doom, psych and post-metal into a heavy, ritualistic and deeply atmospheric sound that pulls you in and doesn’t let go.
The Grant East Originating from the Netherlands, they blend vintage rock vibes with soul, groove and swagger – classic at heart, modern in punch.
@sergeantthunderhoof This UK-based heavy prog powerhouse brings huge grooves, epic melodies and raw emotion – powerful and tailor-made for an open-air stage.
@frenzee.band Born in Australia and raised in Greece, Frenzee deliver pure high-energy punk rock. Fast, loud and explosive – no brakes, no compromises.
@fightsoslo Coming from Norway, Fights deliver intense, emotional hardcore punk with melody and heart. Short, sharp and straight in your face.
ROCKBLOG. BLUESSPOT PRESENTS @trailoffical Rooted in Darmstadt, Germany, Trail bring heavy psych and desert-soaked grooves – laid-back yet powerful, perfect for drifting away down the Valley.
That’s it. We’re sold out. See you in the Valley. 💚🌵
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 3rd, 2025 by JJ Koczan
It hasn’t been that long since the last announcement from the 2026 Freak Valley Festival, which brought the likes of Messa, Child, Longdistancecalling, Howling Giant, Upupayāma and more to join Tranquonauts, Coltaine, Kylesa, Stoned Jesus and Uncle Acid, among others, from the first round. But the message here, clearly delivered, is that Goat stand on their own.
And that’s always kind of been the story for the Swedish cult-psych ritualists. So much the better for them to headline. Their Afrobeat-informed, lysergic, at times vividly funky grooves have always stood them out from the heavy underground enough to enjoy crossover appeal to arthouse indie and the arbiters of cool more broadly speaking, but it’s been well over a decade since their debut album, World Music, and Goat have never really stopped being awesome. Their latest release is a remix of their 2024 self-titled LP done in collaboration with producer The Human Language, and earlier this year they also had a split out with fellow Swedes and Freak Valley veterans, Graveyard.
No coincidence that Goat were added to the bill just as online tickets went on sale over this past weekend. I don’t know that the fest is sold out yet, but usually it’s not too long after the onsale that tickets are gone, and with Goat as added impetus, it’s hard to imagine that not being the case this year too.
From social media:
HEADLINER ANNOUNCEMENT @goatworldmusic live at @freakvalleyfestival 2026
After many, many years of trying… it finally happened:
GOAT will headline FREAK VALLEY FESTIVAL 2026!
The legendary Swedish collective, known for their mind-bending mix of psychedelic rock, tribal grooves & hypnotic rituals, are coming to Freak Valley for the very first time!
We’re beyond proud and still can’t believe it. This one’s truly special.
Online Tickets go on sale this Sunday, 02.11. at 17:00 cet at fvf.ticket.io — don’t sleep on it!
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 23rd, 2025 by JJ Koczan
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!
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 10th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Hard not to get excited at the prospect of covering Freak Valley again next year. I’ve been four times now, and at the risk of honesty, I’ll tell you it’s beginning to feel a bit like a home away therefrom. A first lineup announcement for 2026 brings Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats, Kylesa, Tranquonauts (that’s Seedy Jeezus with Tony Reed and Isaiah Mitchell), Stoned Jesus, Coltaine, Håndgemeng, The Neptune Power Federation, Ratsalad and BB Blackdog, and if that’s not enough to get you to mark your calendar, it probably should be. If nothing else, Freak Valley has become a regular quick-sellout, so if you’re hemming and hawing, probably best you don’t.
They’ve got local ticket sales starting this weekend and online sales to follow. I could sit here and recommend the experience (which I do, heartily), but if you want to check out the coverage of this year’s Freak Valley, that’s here as well. The following was posted on socials just a bit ago:
FREAK VALLEY FESTIVAL 2026 – FIRST BAND ANNOUNCEMENT!
It’s that time again, Freaks – the first wave of bands for @freakvalleyfestival 2026 is here, and it’s already looking massive!
Leading the charge:
@uncleacidband – the masters of vintage doom and twisted psychedelia are finally coming to Freak Valley! Expect pure darkness, fuzzed-out riffs, and that unmistakable cult vibe.
@kylesa_band – sludge, groove, and heavy energy straight from Savannah! Their return to the stage is something we’ve all been waiting for.
Tranqonauts – a true supergroup featuring @tony_reed2112 , @isaiahmitchellsounds (@earthlessrips ), and members of @seedyjeezus ! You know what that means: cosmic jams, heavy riffs, and deep space energy.
Also joining the Freak Valley family in 2026: @stonedjesusband , @theneptunepowerfederation , @coltaine , @handgemeng , @we_are_ratsalad & BB Blackdog!
Get ready for another wild ride through the worlds of heavy psych, stoner, doom, and everything in between. 🤘
🎟️ TICKET INFO:
This Sunday at the @vortex_surfer_musikclub in Siegen, everyone attending the @fomiesband show can buy up to 2 Freak Valley 2026 tickets before the online sale starts! So if you’ve got a ticket for Sunday, you’ve got early access – no waiting, no stress. 🤝🏻
Posted in Features on June 22nd, 2025 by JJ Koczan
As far as reality snapbacks go, it’s hard to top waking up to the news that your country bombed Iran this morning. Twenty-plus years later, they don’t even have to attempt to prove a thing, they just say WMD and the jets take off. That kind of efficiency can’t be faked. It is pure fascism. On top of supporting, committing genocide against the Palestinians. If you disagree with those words, that’s a choice you’re making and not a reflection of truth. History will remember us as barbarians and we’ll have earned it.
I spent the weekend in the hot summer sun in the gorgeous, green and vibrant Freak Valley. It was a beautiful, beautifully exhausting experience. The kind of tired that lets you know you did a thing you wanted to do the way you wanted to do it.
And if you want to know why, that’s why. Because the world is a fucking terrible place, and the people in it — who as far as they know are on the only planet with living creatures in a universe that’s so big we’re only starting to understand the threads that connect it together — are so cruel to each other. You have to survive. You have to take the moments of beauty where you can get them and cling to them desperately. Maybe that’s a music festival. Maybe it’s an afternoon with your family. Maybe it’s sitting by yourself being bored. Hold onto it.
That’s a pretty simple lesson but among the hardest shit to do — appreciate what you have while you have it. I am incredibly grateful for having had this weekend to pace around, take photos, hide in shady corners to write, drink like 40 gallons of water, and see amazing people and amazing bands. Jens Heide and the Rockfreaks crew at Freak Valley are second to none in my experience, and what FVF has carved out for itself between those hillsides is amazing and special.
My flight is in about and hour and a half. Security was a breeze. I feel tired, glad I came, and sad about the country I’m returning to. I worry about the years to come.
Thank you for reading. Tomorrow’s Monday. No posts so I can catch up writing. I’ll be back Tuesday with more. Stay safe out there.
Slept as best I could and took a long shower, but stopped short of blowdrying my beard, which for some reason feels like apex self-indulgence. It was the last day of Freak Valley 2025, and that’s always bittersweet. This place and these people are so special, and I’ve made really good memories here the last four years that I’ve been lucky enough to take part in FVF. It is an honor, and I do not take it for granted.
Made it to the AWO grounds well in time for yoga. That was probably the most direct sunlight I was in on Friday (my days and dates are so screwed up), but the last day of Freak Valley was the solstice too, and for sure there would be sun. The kind of heat that kills old people. A father and his 12-year-old played frisbee on the grass. A small street sweeper went by on the back walking path. The drum riser came out on stage. Sitting in the no-smokers-yet smoking tent for the shade, it was idyllic.
The yoga session was once again fantastic — I even got to sneak in a little boat pose, and you know I’m on board for some shavasana — even without snaily taking part. It finished a couple minutes earlier than the day before, so I didn’t have to run over after hearing Volker Fröhmer’s standard band-intro beginning, a hearty and voluminous “liebe freunde” that is as much a staple of this festival as the word “freak.” I played for a minute in the sprinkler accordingly.
But soon enough, the concluding day of Freak Valley Festival was underway, and I seem to recall it went something like this:
Lurch
The straight-up riff rock aspect of Lurch’s sound took me back to turn-of-the-century European heavy rock, instrumental and otherwise. Thinking ’99-’03 or thereabouts, and all those bands who weren’t shy about having numbers in their monikers. Part of what they did was jam, or at least jam-based — at one point, the bassist threw in the theme from Super Mario Bros., which I’ve had steadily on repeat in my head for the last 40-ish years; if we’ve met and I’ve invariably forgotten your name, it’s because my brain is occupied with doo doo doo do-do doot on an endless loop; I’m not kidding, sometimes it’s torture, but it was cool in the mid-song context — but there was structure there even apart from the one or two songs that had vocals. From Austria, Lurch were unknown to me previously, but they’re playing Hoflärm as well in August and they’ve got a slew of releases that seem pretty dug in and exploratory — and by that I mean you might get a five-minute song or a 39-minute song, depending on the record. Some of that variety made its way into the set as well, and the lesson was quickly learned as they went, pushing into psych with grounded, terrestrial riffing at the forefront. Not the first time I’m writing a note to myself this weekend about a good band. I cannot begin to tell you the value that has for me, though I’ve been trying for a few years now, I guess.
Bushfire
Schedule change! Scott Hepple and the Sun Band were supposed to play second, and Bushfire were to do two mini-sets on the small stage later on, but there was van trouble, so the Darmstadters took the slot and, as frontman Bill Brown told the crowd, “once again Bushfire are the heroes of the universe.” They were playing their new album, Snakes Bites Tales, for its release, and the gritty riffing hit just right. I’m not going to feign impartiality on this one. I consider Bill not just a friend, but a good friend who I’ve known over a decade, and whenever in the day it was happening, I was excited to see his band for the first time. The burl of their records was in full effect, but came through with a fragility live, and as Bill told his tales from the stage between songs, whether it was about drinking and drugs, writing the lyrics on the backs of posters backstage 45 minutes earlier when they were informed of the switch, or it being the end of side A before they turned to “Die Trying” (they would do side B on the small stage later), the crowd filled in on the sun-beat grass and groove was had in abundance. No question dude is a presence on stage, but the two guitars stood up to the throaty vocals and the solos came through with due punch before the drums and bass turned out around back to the verse again. Bushfire have never been about reinventing the wheel of heavy rock, but they roll that wheel in a way that’s expressive and their own, and I didn’t even realize how much I needed that kick in the ass, so thanks. Don’t look for it tomorrow, but I’ll have a review of the album here sooner or later. Honestly, this was more about appreciating the chance to witness a friend kill it in the band’s native habitat, which I was fortunate to do.
Kombynat Robotron
I hit the spritzcannon hard before their set. Had to happen. You could see a rainbow in the spray. I wasn’t quite soaked, but it was worth putting my bag down and standing there for an earth-minute or two, though soon enough it was back at it for Kombynat Robotron. The ascendant heavy space/cosmic rockers are set to issue their new album, AANK, next month — more homework to put in my notes file; not complaining — and if they wanted to put this set out too, that’d be just fine by me. They got the combination of push and swing just right in terms of pace, where you could feel the physical urging of the music within the abiding nod, coming through in a wash of wah with miraculous clarity of intent for something that was so noisy and open-feeling. They had some bliss on offer as well, but once the forward momentum was locked in, so pretty much immediately, it held for the duration. I’d been too in my own head the day before. Getting lost in Kombynat Robotron for a while was refreshing in a different way than having droplets of water launched at my person, but refreshing just the same to stop measuring time in planetary terms. I’m not sure if I enjoyed more the raw moments in Kombynat Robotron — because for sure there are riffs in there — or the tonal wash into which they sometimes veered during the set, but fortunately, there’s zero need for me to choose between them. They were dead on, and I came away with a better understanding of how they work as a group. Total win of a bend for reality.
Highway Child
The heavy underground has a long memory, and though Denmark’s Highway Child broke up 14 years ago in 2011 after the release of their self-titled third album, the heavy underground also loves a redemption story, so Highway Child were here and are at a couple other spots this summer. It’s not the five-week comeback tour or anything, but though there’s been a generational turnover since, they would play to an audience who knew and appreciated their work. So far as I know, that’s is the ideal when you’re doing something like this. They put out two records on Elektrohasch, 2008’s On the Old Kings Road (review here, discussed here) and 2009’s Sanctuary Come (review here), right as the label was starting to hit its arguable peak, so yes, I remembered them too, though I’d never seen them before. Rooted in heavy blues, with a swagger that’s apparently been lying in wait for the better part of a decade and a half, they had folks dancing in the sun out front and were a party all on their own on stage as well. Not a band I ever thought I’d see, and not one I’d be likely to catch otherwise. Figures I’d get all emotional on the last day of the fest. Hard not to.
Travo
Let the party continue. From Portugal, Travo turned heads with late-2023’s Astromorph God (review here) and have been spreading the word live since. The KEXP session earlier this year probably helped in that regard too, feather in their collective cap as it was. Even the line check was brash, but that was nothing compared to once they got going. Leaning more into space rock — I’d say neospace, as I do sometimes, but it didn’t feel quite right, despite all the rampant modernity of the wash they set above the classic pulsations of the drums — they had a solid foundation of heavy tone on which to dance, and set themselves to doing exactly that. If you’ve been reading this site for a while, or even a day, you probably already know there’s little I enjoy more than agreeing with myself. Also disagreeing! But man, I was so right to be excited to see Travo. I may not have been able to hang in the sun, but I found a spot for the whole set after taking pictures and set up camp by which I mean put my bag down, for the duration and they hit hard, digging in with all-go energy and a succession of rad effects-topped builds, voice intermittently punching its way through all the shove surrounding. They made me want me coffee, dared to mellow a bit, and ended with the biggest big-rock-finish I’ve caught here so far.
Wucan
With a new album due in August titled Axioms — it’ll be the Dresden four-piece’s fifth LP — Wucan took the stage to herald the release with due veteranly confidence, and held off breaking out either the flute or the theremin (both firsts) until after the first song, which seems classy somehow. A strong thread of heavy ’10s boogie running through their songwriting, but like many who took that path, Wucan are less about vintageism than broadening a palette of classic, heavy and progressive rock. I’ll admit it’s been a while since I last heard them, but the vibe was sleek and the crowd ate it up as perhaps they inevitably would. The longest day of the year still had plenty of sunshine left in it, but the lawn was packed, somebody had an inflatable flying V, which was fun, and Wucan made sticking it out worthwhile, strut or shuffle or twist. The political complexities of stage outfits notwithstanding, Wucan were an unmitigated good time, with melodies and groove they reached out directly to the crowd and hooked people in. I was curious how much of what they played was new as they touched on space rock about halfway through the set, but this too was fair game for the expanded reach of their sound. I’ll be interested to hear where the album goes.
The Devil and the Almighty Blues
This was my third time seeing Norway’s The Devil and the Almighty Blues, after Høstsabbat in Oslo in 2019 (the before-time) and in 2017 at Roadburn in the Netherlands. In January, if all goes according to my evil plans, I’ll see them again at Planet Desert Rock Weekend in Las Vegas. Good thing they rule. The 2019 show was in support of what’s still their most recent record, Tre (review here), and to their credit, vocalist Arnt O. Andersen still came out fully robed like a misfit drunkard priest, even in the heat of the lingering day. Much respect for that, never mind that they opened with “Salt the Earth.” While I might’ve known what to expect going in, unlike with so many of the bands this weekend who’ve been new to me (life bonus to learn), that didn’t make the going any less satisfying. Their self-titled debut (review here) turns 10 this year, but they wear the years easily in the fluidity of their groove, the way they’re both reverent and transgressive of the (almighty) blues, as well as classic heavy rock and probably three or four other microgenres. I could go on about that characteristic nuance — might be fun — but was content to bask in the comedowns and the pickups and follow where they led. To bottom-line it for you, if you’re somewhere this band is, ever, you want to see them. It’s as simple as that, and I’m grateful for the chances I’ve had (and will have) to do so. They capped with a crescendo of dually shredding guitar solos from Peter Svee and Torgeir Waldemar Engen, then still turned it back to the verse to get a couple last lines in. See them.
Scott Hepple and the Sun Band
Their name started appearing in fest announcements last Fall, and not that I’ve heard of every band who plays a given festival — obviously; seeing new bands was the thing all weekend — but there was definitely a curiosity there. They put out two self-released LPs before getting picked up by Rise Above/Popclaw, and if there’s ever been an ear you could trust, it’s Lee Dorrian’s. They’re young, steeped in garage rock and some sweet proto-heavy shuffle. Thick enough in tone to call heavy, but fleet in being able to keep things moving. The fact that the van has broken down, delaying their arrival here and relocating their set from the main stage to the smaller one earned them some sympathy points, but the truth is they didn’t need them. They pulled the crowd over from the (other) lawn and packed the small stage area where I’ve been hiding in the shade the whole day. I’m sure they sold some records after the set, and hopefully they can keep momentum on their side.
Dead Meadow
When you absolutely need to mellow the vibe, accept no substitutes. Dead Meadow, also fresh off releasing Voyager to Voyager (review here) this Spring on Heavy Psych Sounds, lost bassist Steve Kille to cancer last year. With founding principle Jason Simon on guitar/vocals and I’m pretty sure Mark Laughlin on drums, they did indeed have bass, but I don’t know who was providing it. The sound was there though, that warmth of bottom end that puts your brain in a bathtub. And Simon’s strum, fuzz, quiet-voiced delivery were as immersive as one would hope, so although Kille contributed to the new record, and regularly recorded the band as well, they sound like they’ll continue, which I take as good news. There’s still more day to go, but the chill was infectious, even at their most active. They’re not the inventors of heavygaze, but they might as well be, and frankly, the world needs the kind of drift they bring. So much of this era is intensity, furious, raging. Algorithms. Fascism. Dead Meadow fit just right by going the other way completely, and with Lance Gordon of Mad Alchemy’s oil lightshow, the psychedelia in their sound came through as a multi-sensory experience. They’re still a thrill to watch live, but it’s a quiet thrill. I was quietly thrilled accordingly.
Bushfire
Look, I already reviewed Bushfire once, but having seen and heard half the new record earlier in the day, I wasn’t about to miss the other half, not the least as it includes “Valley of the Freak,” which is about this fest and the people here. Bushfire played the first however-many years of Freak Valley, were a staple of those lineups, but kind of stepped back. Having them present their new full-length, even in two halves, felt fitting. They had a screen in front of the stage before they went on with an animated ouroboros, but took the screen away before they actually started. The projection stayed on and the effect worked. I assume some of those standing by me over by the craftbierhaus and the stage had seen Bushfire before, but I hadn’t until today.
The Sword
I could not tell you when the last time I saw The Sword was, but the prevailing memory I have of them live is wandering into a Relapse Records showcase at SXSW in their hometown of Austin, Texas, and watching a demo riff band lay waste to a show that I’m pretty sure featured Cephalic Carnage later on, but don’t quote me on that, because I was drunk and the only thing I remember for sure was The Sword throwing down a gauntlet for what was then the next generation of heavy rock. The ensuing 21 years and a breakup later (hooray for me, being old), The Sword have returned and claimed their place once again among headlining acts. Their evolution can be charted across their records, but on stage it was more about them being back, good times, and so on. Again, I didn’t stick around (I fly out early tomorrow afternoon and it’s two hours to Frankfurt airport), but I got to hear “Freya,” and that’s always a blast, and I put on the Rockpalast stream when I got back to the room to watch the end, and zero regrets. They seemed to be picking up where they left off, maybe a little more into it for the time away — to wit, they didn’t sound like they were about to break up — and definitely appreciative of the crowd. The Sword are among the most revered US heavy rock bands of the last 25 years, easily, and it’s a boon to the genre that they’re back at it.
—
I can’t believe how fucking ridiculously fortunate I am. It is beyond silly. Like I said once already, or like 10 times, I don’t know, it was an early flight in the morning, so I crashed out as quick as I could in order to be up at seven to shower, finish packing, etc. I may or may not have time for a full wrap-up post, but if I end up saying thanks to Jens, Alex, Marcus, Jara, Basti, Volker, Pete, Bill, Judith, Ralf, and all in the backstage for making me feel so welcome.
It’s a long year till FVF 2026 and one never knows what the future will bring, but if you take anything away from the glut of words that have shown up in this space over the previous three days, take that Freak Valley is something very, very special, and it’s not at all a coincidence that it sells out every year as soon as tickets go on sale. And it’s the people that make it. I’m pretty sure Bill said that in “Valley of the Freak.”
So, if I do or don’t have time for a proper epilogue, we’ll see, but as always, thank you to my wife, The Patient Mrs., for making this and everything else possible for me. Thank you to my mother, and to my sister, as always, for their unending, unconditional support.
And thank you for reading. Won’t be the last time this week I say it.
I heard the noon bell ring in Netphen, and made it to the AWO grounds in time for the start of the pre-show yoga session. I did it last year as well, at least one of the days, and it was a good flow. I’ve been doing yoga at home with the intent of building a habit, but you know how that goes. It’s so much easier to not do the things that are good for you.
Hot in the sun though. There was a big snail nearby that I showed to Pete from Elephant Tree, who’s a regular and a volunteer hanging out here each year. I felt like I was five years old for how excited I was. Pete took the picture.
What I didn’t realize was how much time had passed, so when Volker Fröhmer came out to introduce the first band of the day, it was a jolt back to reality. And since I’d heard the screams in their line check, I knew reality was about to hit hard.
Insert clever segue here:
Häxer
From Norway, and the drummer had the Høstsabbat tshirt to prove it. I had my favorite one on yesterday; missing that festival as I have had to these last couple years it’s pretty worn in, so it’s only in light rotation; special occasions. Häxer brought punker punishment. Flourishes of extreme metal, brutal high-register screams — dude sounded like he could go all day doing that shit, which is fortunate because they’re playing again later on the small stage — and uptempo charge to the opening of the day. It’s a hot one but there’s shade available for when it’s needed and abundant water. Having been rushed at the start of their set — which turned out to be wholly appropriate to the music — I found a spot to catch up and watched as the singer crowdsurfed mid-verse and the band blasted through the kind of boozy punkmetal that’s become a staple of the Norwegian underground. Thrash and punk and black metal were always threaded. Häxer highlighted just how potent a blend that can be. Even the bass was anthemic. Probably not what I’m reaching for on a mellow afternoon at home, but undeniably on their shit onstage.
Wedge
Another of the many firsts for me this weekend. I’ve loosely followed Wedge since the Berlin trio’s inception, circa 2014, and they remain a vital presence in the German scene, so it wasn’t quite the ‘finally!’ sigh of relief that was catching My Sleeping Karma the night before had been, but I knew enough to look forward to their set and felt justified in that as they played, working in and out of boogie traditionalism with a sound that’s grown and expanded over time. Again, I found a spot in the shade and watched the crowd fill in over the course of the band’s time, veering into soulful psych with a foundation that’s still classic and an overarching mellow spirit that felt just right for the day. It wasn’t a comedown from Häxer, though the songs were lower and slower, more melodic, etc., as the crowd became a sea of nodding heads in the sunshine, which is always fun to see. They’re more than four years removed from their latest album, Like No Tomorrow (review here) and I’ve no PA what they have planned going forward, but the way they jammed out sure made it seem like they were having a good time, so maybe one of these days an announcement will come through. They killed it in the meantime. The kind of band you want to see again.
Zig Zags
L.A.’s Zig Zags released their fifth LP, Deadbeat at Dawn, just at the end of last month, and although I haven’t heard the album, the title-track was recognizable. This is the power of punk, and it’s not a minor consideration in Zig Zags’ sound, but very purposefully not the limit of it. They weren’t the first band of the day to celebrate the hybridization of punk and thrash metal, but they made it live, for sure. They’ve been around for a bit at this point — five records, if you want to measure time that way — and I have to think they alienate as many people as they might ensnare with their sound. If you’re a headbanger or a punker exclusively, Zig Zags are blasphemy, but if you’re the rare kind of cat who can get down with both, they’re type band, and sure enough, I know people in Los Angeles who swear by them. I get it. They’re an act who make complex ideas feel simple, obviously approach what they do without a milligram (or an ounce in the States) of pretense, and every now and then, they locked into a Slayer riff or a rolling nod — speedy, but there — and that was right on as well. Maybe they’re not alienating so much as something for everybody. Also notable, the mist cannon, which I’ve absolutely been shot by point blank in the photo pit in years past, made an appearance by the show of the stage. It was greeted as a liberator and I was happy to spend Zig Zags’ declarative “Punk Fucking Metal” adjacent to the spritz.
Battlesnake
The inevitable answer to the question of who the dudes walking around the backstage in vestments were, Sydney, Australia’s Battlesnake — entirely new to me — reveled in blasphemy, pairing upbeat push with a heaping dose of shenanigans amid double-guitar harmonies and the weekend’s first — perhaps only — keytar. The songs, which were at least half the point of the show, were varied around a foundation in classic metal, and if ‘fun’ was a subgenre, that might be the closest description. A couple slowdowns, a couple speed-ups, and the energy onstage to sell all of it, they weren’t shy in letting a little chaos in alongside the tight songwriting and a pastiche that went from doom to thrash, and with that in consideration, they slayed, in terms of presentation and craft, as well as that one breakdown from whichever song it was. They would seem to be in Europe for the summer, with UK and continental shows sandwiched by being here and Hoflärm on August, but the riffs packed the lawn, the theatrics made it a good time, and they continued the day’s subtle theme in communing with metal of yore from a fresh point of view. If you’re the type who really likes heavy metal that takes itself too seriously, avoid. Didn’t seem to be an issue with the Freak Valley crowd. Go figure. They’ll definitely make an impression on tour.
¡Pendejo!
Mostly Dutch, ¡Pendejo! are connected to Spanish music and culture via frontman El Pastuso, who doubles as part of what to my knowledge will be the weekend’s only horn section. The combination, horns with heavy riffing and Spanish-language vocals, is the essential component in what they do, along with the encouraging shove that typifies their doing it. Completely on another wavelength sound-wise from Battlesnake, they nonetheless maintained the electricity and the good times fostered by the preceding act and were catchy whether you spoke the language or not. I wandered a bit after doing photos and came to land in the same spot as during Battlesnake, so I guess you can mark that a win, since shade. The shenanigans carried over as the band stood blasted out pulse-raisers like they were going out of style — they’re not — and though I missed 2023’s Volcán, they lived up to my expectations from their prior material, and it was a perfect moment for the diversion in the centerpiece position of the day, with four bands before and four after. They earned that spot though. Working up there, they were.
Early Moods
The intensity of the afternoon starting to wain, Early Moods line checked their guitars with “Heaven and Hell,” which, man, that’d be a cover to hear. The L.A. doom metallers have been out with Zig Zags on a European tour, and though I’ve seen them before, in the interim, they put out 2024’s sophomore record, A Sinner’s Past (review here) and done a buttload of touring — like Pendejo, they brought their own banner — and so were less the upstart kids taking on not only doom, but epic doom of the Candlemassian strain than a seasoned touring act who know what they’re about and ready to steamroll whatever should happen to be in their path. This particular evening, that was Freak Valley. They were in control from the outset and suitably severe in their delivery, digging into the angles of their transitions as well as the nod of the verses. They were a band who started with a strong idea of what they wanted to do, and they’re still relatively young, but they growth they’ve undertaken was as palpable from the stage as it was on the album last year, and they felt like they were setting themselves up for the longer haul. Easy to appreciate an outfit who can bring doom to life in such a way. The crowd also went off, so they’ve got that going for them as well.
Sacri Monti
It had been a minute or two, Sacri Monti. The San Diego heavy psych rockers were starting about three weeks of Euro touring, which will take them to Stoned From the Underground and Poland’s Red Smoke Festival, among others, before they’re done. They were out with Elder in the US this Spring as well, supporting their 2024 full-length, Retrieval (review here). The last time I saw them was at Roadburn 2018, where they were part of a collective of featured acts from San Diego, where the scene at the time was vibrant. Nowadays I tend to think of them as survivors, having not only made it through that weekend intact, but pursued their own ends on tour and in the studio instead of posing out for Instagram or working on their ‘brand.’ They’re still rooted in a 1970s style, but have taken on progressive flourish and intention behind that, and it was a pleasure to see them again after seven years, not the least with Mad Alchemy’s lightshow on the giant stageside screens. I’d been looking forward to it and wasn’t the only one. They’re veterans at this point, but they still sound like a growing band. That’s how it goes sometimes, in the best of scenarios.
Motorpsycho
With 90 minutes at their disposal, Norwegian prog legends Motorpsycho have the longest set of Freak Valley 2025, and considering the back catalog of well over 100 releases, that’s probably reasonable. They started psych and jammy, which it turned out what was I needed, before turning more toward structure and complexity, and neither am I going to complain about that. I was dragging — no reason to lie — but they were more immersive than I’d been expecting. Another one I’ve seen before, once or twice, at least, but it’s been a while. The thing with Motorpsycho is they’re always moving forward. Yeah, that’s resulted in a lot of albums and whatnot, but more, it’s resulted in a band who’ve been at it since 1990 and never stopped evolving. The rarity of that is not to be discounted just because you don’t know where to start in their discography. The people up front got there early and clearly knew very well why they were right to do so, and Motorpsycho played the sun down to bring some relief from the heat, which was due. I’m not an expert or anything, but I do my best, and beat as I was, even I understood the profundity of what I was seeing and hearing. Lush, gorgeous, theirs.
The Ocean
I don’t recall ever seeing The Ocean before, but I remember when they came were on Metal Blade, and I’m certainly aware of the excellent work frontman Robin Staps does with Pelagic Records, so they’re kind of in the orbit, loosely. They took the prog of Motorpsycho and metallized it, intersplicing post-metal crush with melodic reach and nuance. I didn’t stay, but they were tearing it up when I left and it was still packed, so it was me, not them. Reasonable. The Ocean have been a professional band for over trio decades at this point, and they had the lighting to prove it as well as the extended changeover after Motorpsycho, during which Häxer took their turn on the small stage for their second set of the day (had a mosh going and everything). I hung in for a couple The Ocean songs until the strobe put me over the top and I went to catch a cab back to the room, finish writing, sort the day’s photos, and most importantly, sleep for every second possible. Oh, but heads up, they had room mics over the drums and crowd mics at the front of the stage, so if a live album surfaces, don’t say you weren’t warned.
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I’m going to leave it there because that’s what my eyes closing while I type means. Back at it tomorrow for the last day of the fest. Grateful to be here. Super-grateful there’s another yoga session before the day starts.
We sat on the plane for more than an hour before taking off, and sat for another hour before going to the gate after landing. Nine hours on a seven-hour flight. In between, a shitty, shake-you-awake ocean-crossing, with the elbow of the woman sitting next to me rubbing into my lovehandle the entire time. God I hate flying.
I managed to sleep some, and that’s fortunate since with the extra delay I missed my first ride to the festival and needed to wait for the next one, about two hours later by the time I got through customs and got my bag. I was already falling asleep sitting there. Slept in the car too on the way to Netphen.
Pickup was a bit before 2PM, I think? Somewhere in there. I had time to go to the hotel to drop my stuff off before the first band would start — I also snuck in brushing my teeth — but that was it, the day was starting. Some day I will come to Freak Valley a day early, to rest and relax and check out the setup process before it all starts. Not 2025.
So I’d be a wreck by the end of it, but the first day of Freak Valley was set to roll, and it was time to roll with it. Here’s how that went:
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Sarkh
I made it. It was like five minutes before Sarkh went on, my credentials weren’t where they were supposed to be, but Ralf in back handed me a pass and told me to go and I did. Saying hi to the folks in the photo pit and others walking around. It was Freak Valley pretty much from the moment I walked in, and since I was late, probably well before that too, but solidified as same when fest-mainstay and all around nice guy Volker Fröhmer picked up the mic to introduce the instrumental trio Sarkh as he’ll introduce every band that plays this weekend, and the trio got underway with their black-metal-tinged take on heavygaze or heavy post-rock, whatever you want to call it when the guitar floats and the groove is pummeling you. Sarkh took part in last year’s International Space Station Vol. 2 four-way split (review here), which was on Worst Bassist Records (that’s Komet Lulu’s label; she’s a regular here), and starting off the day, they were immersive in a way you would want. They brought people to the front, and in the true spirit of this thing, were dug in from the outset. I count myself lucky to have seen them, and that’s a welcome beginning point for any weekend of rock and roll.
The Polvos!
Each day of Freak Valley 2025 has at least five acts I’ve never seen before, and The Polvos! followed on in that regard from Sarkh, coming from Chile to play to the early-assembled and waiting Freaks. I don’t know how long a flight that is, but I have to think the crowd made it worth the trip, packed as the grass was. Flowing cosmic heavy pervaded, not as metallic in the underpinning as was Sarkh, but certainly not lacking presence with three guitars. They were never quite out of control, but were jam-based, for sure, and the midtempo push helped put the crowd where the band wanted them to be, not quite lulled, but not far off, families with babies and kids, Deutschebros and loner weirdos and so on were all subject to The Polvos!’ creeper grooves, which got a little more forceful as they went on, unless that was me dreaming, but stayed vibrant all the while, mellowed again and blew it out again. They brought records to sell and said as much from the stage. I reviewed last year’s Floating (review here), and wouldn’t at all mind a revisit, especially after the show.
The Thing
This was about the time I remembered coffee exists, and that’s fortunate, because dragging ass as I was, I’d never have made it up for The Thing, who are from New York and were an entirely unknown quantity to me, despite my relative proximity to their hometown as compared to say, Siegen. They were young and rocked on stage in such a way as to make ke think they’ll take good stories home from this tour, and with the US connection and some psych-blues in their sound, I couldn’t help but recall how much this festival supported Baltimore’s The Flying Eyes when they were going, not to mention The Midnight Ghost Train. Not as madcap as the latter or as blues-specific as the former, The Thing were indeed their own Thing, and with a backstage coffee and a double-espresso from the booth out front, I felt like I was able to dig all the more into what they were doing — a bit of All Them Witches’ loose genre-awareness, but not necessarily adherence — and a party aspect that came through alongside some neospace swing. Thoroughly modern, and I’m not complaining about that. Also the weekend’s first drum solo. I think I wasn’t the only one in the crowd who didn’t know them — that’s a lie; I’m the most ignorant — but they had people moving up front and that energy was infectious… now that I’d had some goddamn coffee and wasn’t falling asleep sitting on the ground. Note to self on these dudes. Further investigation required.
The Dead Reds
English rockers The Dead Reds did an acoustic set for Rockpalast — who are here filming select sets, as always — earlier, and I saw them setting up for it. I guess from their retroist look, I was expecting hard ’70s boogie, but they turned out to be moodier and more flow-minded than all-swing-all-the-time; not that groove was lacking, but it came in a different context than my judging-a-book-by-its-cover, know-nothing ass anticipated, and the real fun was in finding that out. Some post-Janis blues twang on the vocals, but they were vibes for the era thereof, and noted from the stage it was their first time in Germany. Freak Valley has been sold out pretty much since it was announced as taking place — there’s a steady crew of regulars, others come and go each year, but generally speaking, if you come here, you want to come back, and I guess you get enough of those year after year and a band like The Dead Reds — like, communists? — have a full lawn to play to as the centerpiece band of the day. The mood was set enough that my man with the hippie-sticks busted ’em out by stage right. Others sat on blankets, stood in the sun, drank in the back, or wandered. I decided it was time for another coffee. Just one more for the night to come.
Jools
Brash, dually-fronted UK hard-punkers Jools released their new album, Violent Delights, at the beginning of this month. They’re not a band I know — told you I was the most ignorant — and probably not in my wheelhouse sound-wise, what with all the punk rock and the stage outfits and such. Nothing against young, in-shape people getting naked — that’s what being young and in-shape is for — but yeah. Certainly the crowd was into it, and the band were tight and energetic and everything they needed to be to sell it from the stage, including some between-song banter. They perhaps were picking up with some of what Amyl and the Sniffers brought last year in terms of intensity, showcasing punchy material with due verve and push, flexible enough to bring on hints of more metallic tones and to bask in that next-generation take on heavy whatever that is flourishing across the globe in this otherwise dumbest decade in the history of decades, but mostly in it for the charge, and bearing songs suited to that. I don’t know that I’ll dive into the record, but Jools were a sight to behold.
Windhand
Even my most known quantity for the day, Richmond, Virginia, murkmakers Windhand, had something new on offer in their return as a five-piece with Leanne Martz — who’s also playing alongside vocalist Dorothia Cottrell for solo sets, also ex-Heavy Temple, in Darling, etc. — on second guitar. This lineup of the band — there’s a new bassist as well, and it’s Tommy Hamilton from Druglord — is about a month out from playing their first show together, but I’ll be damned if they didn’t sound like Windhand. Guitarist Garrett Morris, drummer Ryan Wolfe and Cottrell could hardly do otherwise, and with a liquid light show from Mad Alchemy, they tied together the threads of doom, grey-toned psychedelia and grunge in their songs as one would expect a veteran band to do, and though I’m pretty sure I said as much last time I saw them, which was Fall 2023, nearly two years ago, I’ll double down on taking a new Windhand LP whenever one was ready to go. They’ve got a defined sound, to be sure, but you can’t listen to their records and accuse them of only doing one thing. They’ve evolved organically over the last 15 years, and I’ll put them up there with anyone of their generation in doom, and yes, that includes Pallbearer and YOB.
My Sleeping Karma
Finally. Genuinely one I’m crossing off my list. I’ve been a fan of My Sleeping Karma since their first album, now 19 years old, and had never seen the band before. I suspect that put me in the minority of the crowd, who no doubt were far more expert in what was coming, but while bittersweet in light of drummer Steffen Weigand passing away two years ago, the band’s moving forward felt naturally in homage to their drummer, and the music retains his spirit as André Stein, who was close to the band even before joining, has taken up the drummer role. He joins guitarist Seppi, bassist Matte and synthesist Norman in the lineup, and at the risk of honesty, they were my most anticipated band of the festival. So how was it, at last, after so long? Well, they pretty much had me at the line check. From there, they did the hug that I’ve seen photos and videos of however many times and gradually hit it in a way that was laid back but not lacking energy in André’s drumming, and Seppi’s guitar lines and Matte’s bass sort of wove around each other with the synth tying them together; the stuff of classic My Sleeping Karma to my mind. The tonal depth of their records and the space in their sound were accordingly on display, and though I don’t think they were a loud as Windhand, neither were they trying to be. People went off for them, dancing and such even as midnight came and went, and perhaps the highest compliment I can give the set is it lived up to my hopes, which were unreasonable, to be sure. The sound was spot on. They were hypnotic, no less with Mad Alchemy still on the oils, but had a presence on stage, and while they’ve always been instrumental, their songs are memorable for the varying paths they take, their riffy divergences, and the blend of elements that’s so much their own. I’m so glad I got to see them. It was a long time coming.
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Next Morning
The hotel coffee is so good I could melt into it. I’m at the Ewerts this year, where I’ve never stayed before. It’s smaller, seems family-owned, which is cool, has a small and gorgeous bar (where I got the coffee; the breakfast room is around the bend the other way). I was so tired last night as My Sleeping Karma were wrapping up that I decided to hoof it the 2.25 km (1.4 mi) from the AWO grounds. I got about a third of the way in the pitch black of night alongside what seems to be the main road of Netphen, at least that I’ve seen, and a cab came into view. I was asleep not terribly long thereafter. That too was a long time coming.
It’s gorgeous again today, supposed to be spectacular all the way through, so I’m looking forward to getting back out, but first shower and some of that hotel breakfast for cheese and eggs, what with the life force and such. Thanks for reading. More pics after the jump.
