04.17.17 – 01:26 – Hotel room, Tilburg

We were done with the Weirdo Canyon Dispatch folding ritual early this afternoon. Third time’s the charm. The issue was finished and printed and put online (you can read it here) by a little bit before one o’clock, so I decided to head back to the hotel to have a drink of water, get my head around the day, dick around on my phone, etc.

En route, something caught my ear wafting out of the Cul de Sac. It was Rotterdam natives Dool soundchecking, and from outside, they sounded pretty damn good. Their name had come up in the office since they’re this year’s “Roadburn Introduces” pick, and I decided pretty quickly that I’d have to check them out even just going by what I heard on my way by, so I got back in time to get a spot up front and attended their arrival. They’ve got members of The Devil’s Blood in bassist Job van de Zande and drummer Micha Haring and Gold‘s Nick Polak on guitar along with Reinier Vermeulen, and guitarist/vocalist Ryanne van Dorst, and maybe since they’re not brand new players out of the gate it shouldn’t be a surprise they were in such command of their sound, but for a band who doesn’t have more than a single out, they were impressive in their presence on stage and in the cohesion of their aesthetic, copping elements of goth rock to darken up heavy grooves for an early crowd.

When they got to “Words on Paper,” van Dorst switched out her electric guitar for an acoustic one, and the effect of the added resonance to Polak‘s and Vermeulen‘s guitars was palpable. Every Roadburn brings a pleasant surprise. Dool were definitely mine this year. This morning, I knew nothing about them. Now I’ll be keeping an eye out for news about their debut album. They’d wrap up in time for Skepticism to start on the Main Stage. The Finnish funeral doomers hit the quarter-century mark in 2016, and they marked the occasion with a special fan-selected set that focused heavily on their 1995 debut LP, Stormcrowfleet, with “Sign of a Storm,” “By Silent Wings” and “The Everdarkgreen,” as well as their 2003 third outing, Farmakon, with “Farmakon Process,” “The Raven and the Backward Funeral” and “Shred of Light, Pinch of Endless.” They had “The March and the Stream” from 1998’s Lead and Aether in there as well, but whatever they were playing, it all crawled, gruelingly, further into a deep, black abyss of church-organ-laced doom, heavy on drama and impassable in tone.

Frontman Matti Tilaeus added to the drama, the bowtie of his formalwear undone — as apparently it will be — and the white roses he carried out with him when he came on stage laid on the tops of the monitors for extra funereal effect. They played mostly in the dark, and were a reminder of just how much what we think of today as death-doom owes its crux to what Finland conjured in the mid-’90s. It was a surprise to walk out of the Main Stage room when they were done and find the sun was still up. How could daylight still even exist after such a thing? I’d ponder the question during an initial loop through the merch area while waiting as I have been for months, years, to see Brothers of the Sonic Cloth, also playing the Main Stage. The Tad Doyle-fronted outfit released their also-awaited self-titled debut (review here) on Neurot Recordings, and though they toured to support it — with Neurosis, no less — I didn’t get to go to that show and my soul has had a dent in it ever since.

Well, Brothers of the Sonic Cloth‘s sheer tectonic heaviness took that dent, bumped it out and polished it up real nice. And by that I mean that, while the video screen behind them showed suitably-themed images like the earth as a ball of fire, volcanoes, arcane rituals and so on, they played so furiously loud and with such heft of low end that the floor of the big room actually shook. They had a second guitarist on stage right with bassist Peggy Doyle, and drummer Dave French was in the back, but as a whole unit, Brothers of the Sonic Cloth came together to hone pure aural destruction for the duration of their set, Tad‘s seething rasp and screams placing him at the center of the churn, not nearly as morose as Skepticism had been, but viscerally angry and geared for maximum impact. When the asteroid hits planet earth in whatever year that is — could be tomorrow for all I care; I’m at fucking Roadburn — it will sound like Brothers of the Sonic Cloth. I own two of their t-shirts. When they were done I felt like maybe that’s not enough.

Aside from the fact that Astrosoniq drummer/producer Marcel van de Vondervoort is deeply involved with recording and mixing the audio streams of each Roadburn that so often become groups’ live albums, and aside from the fact that after I first dug into their last studio LP, 2010’s Quadrant (review here), I decided I needed to hear every record they’d ever put out — 2006’s Speeder People (review here), 2005’s Made in Oss EP (review here), 2002’s Soundgrenade (review here) and 2000’s Son of A.P. Lady (review here) — I have been waiting years to see Astrosoniq play Roadburn, and their set was made all the more special by the fact that fest organizer Walter was doing live visuals as he did for The Heads last year. The band hasn’t had much if any live activity over the last few years. It’s now been seven since Quadrant was first issued in Europe. I knew it was going to be something special. I knew I was lucky to see them. I don’t think I knew just how much that would be the case.

On record, they hop genres with attention-deficit regularity, but in the Green Room, the band were much more fluid. They jammed out with the best of anything I’ve seen at Roadburn 2016, and I’ve seen a few jams. Guitarist Ron van Herpen had guested the other night with Death Alley, but really stood out during “As Soon as They Got Airborne,” an extended take that was only part of the larger highlight that was the set as a whole. “You Lose” from Son of A.P. Lady was another standout, that album having just received a limited vinyl reissue that’s caught my eye in the merch area downstairs at the Patronaat. May or may not get to pick its deluxeness up to take home, but Astrosoniq made an easy case with what I’ll hope is a return to activity that results — eventually; doesn’t have to be this week; next week is fine — in a new full-length. Their native Oss is about 35 minutes from Tilburg by car, just on the other side of den Bosch, and they got the hometown greeting from a strong Dutch contingent represented in the crowd. I knew they would be a hard act to follow.

I watched a bit of Tau Cross — with Away from Voivod on drums and Rob Miller from Amebix on vocals — on the Main Stage before heading over to Het Patronaat to catch the start of Beastmaker, as Lee Dorrian‘s curation was continuing over there. I miss-timed it and didn’t actually get to see them apart from their soundcheck, blowing my chance at Carousel in Extase at the same time, and routed back to the 013 proper to watch Converge do their special ‘Blood Moon’ set comprised of their slower and more experimental material. After their Jane Doe set the other night, which I caught the tail end of, the vibe was almost completely different. Yeah, Jacob Bannon still writhed and paced back and forth and whatnot, but there were more clean vocals — giving Stephen Brodsky (Cave In) another chance to shine, which he did — and they brought out Steve Von Till of Neurosis and Chelsea Wolfe to add their voices to the mix, and Ben Chisholm fleshed out textures on keys, resulting in a rich sound that pushed away from hard/metalcore in favor of something less stylistically hinged. Even for being selections from past records, ‘Blood Moon’ set its own context, and even in the parts that didn’t feature Von Till, one could hear a strong sense of influence from Neurosis in what they were doing.

At that point, I decided to do something I hadn’t done since I got to Tilburg: I stopped and had a meal. I left Massachusetts on Tuesday evening. Today was Saturday. Since then, I hadn’t had time to actually sit down to a dinner, lunch, breakfast, anything. I bumped into Weirdo Canyon Dispatch photog extraordinaire Paul Verhagen and we grabbed a bite, with Exile on Mainstream‘s Andreas Kohl joining later, before Amenra went on the Main Stage. I had mixed veggies — broccoli, brussels sprouts, string beans, some other green thing chopped up — a boneless chicken thigh, a spicy chicken wing and a considerable amount of green salad, dry. It might as well have been birthday cake.

Amenra are something of a fixture around Roadburn. The Belgian atmospheric sludgers played in 2007, they played when Neurosis curated in 2009, they played in 2013 and they’ll play again at the Afterburner. That’s nothing to complain about, I’m just noting it because perhaps it was part of what drove them to do something different this time around, performing mostly acoustic with seven players seated arranged in a circle on the stage to stark lighting and deeply melancholic reinterpretations of their songs. Of course, they also have a new LP out, Alive, on Consouling Sounds working in similar forms — it features a faithful cover of Tool‘s “Parabol,” which they also played — but even in this different incarnation, it was plain to hear the impact of Neurosis on their methods and of Scott Kelly and Steve Von Till‘s solo works on their dark-folk and minimalist (if you can call something with seven people on stage minimalist) brooding.

Vocalist Colin H. van Eeckhout said from the stage they were nervous and doing their best, possibly after someone shouted “Slayer!” in the crowd. If they were uncomfortable, it was hard to tell from the harmonies. When they were done, they left one at a time until only a single guitarist remained, his back to the crowd. Then he got up and walked away and the part he was playing kept going. It was a loop, obviously — that’s not exactly a magic trick at this point — but it made for a striking visual all the same and said something about the resonance of their material, being brought down on a slow fade as the crowd erupted again. There would be a 40-minute break before Neurosis came on, which, to be completely honest, felt like an eternity.

From Brothers of the Sonic Cloth onward, everything on the Main Stage at Roadburn 2016 today was building toward the Neurosis 30th anniversary set. From Tad Doyle‘s grunge roots to Tau Cross‘ own in crust and progressive thrash, to Converge and Amenra having both — in very different ways, granted — found inspiration in their work, Neurosis was at the core of what the whole day was about, and the push forward was leading inextricably to their set as the culmination. Not to say it was seven-plus hours of setup and nothing more, just that the clearly purposeful flow of the day was designed with its direction in mind. It was not an accident.

They opened with “Lost” from 1993’s Enemy of the Sun, and among the you-were-never-gonna-see-Neurosis-play-this highlights were “Pain of Mind” and “Self-Taught Infection” from 1988’s Pain of Mind debut, “To What End?” from 1990’s The Word as Law, a cover of Joy Division‘s “Day of the Lords,” and, gloriously, “Takeahnase” from 1992’s Souls at Zero, arguably the point at which they really started to branch beyond their beginnings in crust and hardcore punk and move into the various forms of aggression that they continue to develop now — the easy word for it is post-metal, but it’s post-metal because Neurosis made it that way. With more recent inclusions like “At the Well” from 2012’s Honor Found in Decay (review here) and “Water is Not Enough” from 2007’s Given to the Rising, along with “Times of Grace” from the 1999 album of the same name, “Left to Wander” from 2004’s The Eye of Every Storm, as well as the closing pair of “Through Silver in Blood,” from the 1996 LP of the same name, and “Stones from the Sky” from 2001’s A Sun that Never Sets.

Between all of that and “An Offering” from the Sovereign EP, there was not one record in their discography unrepresented. That made the event even more special — they’ll follow-up with a second installment for the Afterburner tomorrow — but the truth of the matter is that anytime Neurosis shows up, it’s special. I know they’ve done more touring in the last year than in the decade prior, but still, I don’t think there’s a band on the planet that captures the same measure of intensity, of raw passion, of volume-assault-as-spiritual-refuge that Neurosis does, and whether it’s Noah Landis using the entire universe for source material for samples and manipulated transitional drones for between songs, Steve Von Till and Scott Kelly complementing each other on guitar and vocals as one might expect for two guys who’ve been fronting a band together for 30 years, Dave Edwardson‘s continued ferocity on bass or Jason Roeder‘s cyclical drum patterning, everything they do is a lesson in the ethic of putting creativity first. They have a new record coming out at some point. I don’t know what it sounds like or what it’s called, but I feel comfortable in the knowledge that it will step forward from where they were with Honor Found in Decay, because they’re Neurosis, and that means no compromising.

I kind of lost my shit during that especially blistering rendition of “Takeahnase,” and I expect tomorrow and Monday I’ll be good and sore. Who cares? Not me. I’m back at it in the morning for the last issue of the Weirdo Canyon Dispatch and more bands for the Afterburner, which basically is just another day of Roadburn at this point. Fine by me. It’s gone quickly in 2016 — how do you pack a year’s worth of living into four days? — so I’ll take everything I can get.

More pics after the jump. Thanks for reading.

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04.16.16 — 00:40 — Hotel room, Tilburg

When I got in from the show last night, I triumphantly tore my wristband off in accomplishment of having put down day one of Roadburn 2016. Then I looked at the thing and saw it was for all four days. So first thing this morning, obviously enough, was to get a new pass. Needless to say, sheepish grins abounded, but as ever, the Roadburn crew was nothing but delightful and accommodating in the extreme. For the hours of fretting I did about it, was done in about five seconds, then off the finish putting together the second issue of Weirdo Canyon Dispatch, which you can read here.

That process was less smooth, but better than yesterday, and I got excused from folding pages in time to catch the beginning of Hexvessel and Arktau Eos‘ collaborative set at Het Patronaat. On the Main Stage, it was the Lee Dorrian-curated ‘Rituals for the Blind Dead Pt. 1,’ but that wouldn’t be starting up for a while yet, so Hexvessel & Arktau Eos felt like it was snuck in as a bonus for anyone who showed up early. Plenty of people did, and were greeted by robe-donned, incense-burning ritualism, the group performing a special set called “Mirror Dawn” in honor of Arktau Eos‘ debut album, Mirrorion, and Hexvessel‘s debut album, Dawnbearer, from which it drew its source material.

Flourishes of ritual bowls, keys, violin, acoustic and electric guitar, synth, various bone-looking rattlers and percussion instruments, a carved horn of some sort, but the shrouded Arktau Eos, it was a deeply ambient beginning to the day, patient on the cusp of droning but with stronger currents running under the still-seeming waters. It was clearly a work of passion — I’d be interested to hear it recorded; will attend the hopeful arrival of the audio stream — and distinct completely from what Hexvessel brought to the Main Stage with their set yesterday (review here) in a way that only made it more engrossing to witness. Something special for Roadburn to start the afternoon.

When I left Patronaat, it was to begin a succession of one band into the next that would define the better part of a remarkably busy day. Mondo Drag were going on in the Green Room. Diamanda Galás would follow shortly after on the Main Stage, so I headed across the alley to the 013 and hit the Green Room on the quick to get a feel for what Mondo Drag were up to, and was struck almost immediately by the clarity of their tones, but the weight they still carry. I felt fortunate to have been familiar with their new RidingEasy album, The Occultation of Light (review here), since it features the current lineup of keyboardist/vocalist John Gamino, guitarists Jake Sheley and Nolan Girard (the latter also synth), bassist Andrew O’Neil and drummer Ventura Garcia, and the live versions of songs like “The Eye” and “Out of Sight” mirrored the chemistry the band as they are today showcased on the record.

It’s almost like a second debut for Mondo Drag in that, but as they melded those cuts with “Zephyr” and “Plumajilla” from last year’s self-titled LP (review here), there was no less ownership of that material, which featured on record what would become the rhythm section of Blues Pills when it was recorded in the Midwest, where the band lived before moving to the West Coast. Either way, Mondo Drag have clearly worked out their niche sound-wise and are engaged in the process of developing that in the textures of the dual guitars and keys and the classic feel of their songwriting. I’d see a lot of psychedelia as the day went on, but catching Mondo Drag for the first time was a thrill for sure. They sound like a band that is going to keep growing.

During the latter portion of their set, I popped over to the Main Stage to bear witness to Diamanda Galás. The grand dame of the avant garde has a few ground rules for playing. They included: No photos (signs were posted), no bars open (they even turned off the lights), and no leaving until the song in progress was finished. Far more free-thinking in her creative spirit, Galás took the stage alone, with a baby grand piano and proceeded to tear gaping holes in sonic convention, her astonishing range matched only by her will to push it to its limits, pulling elements from folk-blues and moving into and out of language for roughly 70 experimentalist minutes. It may have been one of the bravest sets I’ve ever seen at Roadburn — or at least the bravest since Wovenhand in 2011 (review here) — but she kept an impressive portion of the crowd with her for the entire hour-ten, while others waited for the song to end so they could switch out with those waiting on the other side of the door.

I myself went back and watched Mondo Drag finish their set, visited the merch area again when they were done, and still made it back in time to catch the end of Diamanda Galás. All of this was done in anticipation of the next stage in the afternoon/evening’s back and forth, which would see me push from Repulsion to Death Alley to With the Dead to Hills with nary a breath between before catching some of G.I.S.M. and closing out my night with Black Moon Circle and Peter Pan Speedrock, one into the next. There were moments of respite between some sets, but most of it was right in a row. Beats stopping, I guess. No regrets, in any case, though I did sacrifice catching solo sets from Neurosis‘ own Steve Von Till and Scott Kelly in the process, but I saw Kelly in Chicago back in November (review here) and I did some quick math and decided I’d be way likelier to run into Von Till again before Repulsion, so went that way.

Bassist/vocalist Scott Carlson was kind enough to let me have a look at the setlist, which consisted almost entirely of cuts from Repulsion‘s 1989 debut, only album and mega-classic, Horrified. You know why? Because when you fucking have Horrified, you don’t need anything else. Repulsion was most definitely not closing any bars. In fact, I think a few new ones opened as they tore into the fleshy bits of classics like “Eaten,” “Slaughter,” “Six Feet Under,” “Repulsion,” and “Horrified” itself. Carlson remarked from the stage that Horrified was recorded 30 years ago (in 1986), and he and guitarist Matt Olivo seemed to relish the opportunity to bring them out again. Does it still count as nostalgia when the songs are about cannibals? These and many more important questions were answered.

With Chris Moore (formerly of Magrudergrind, among others) on drums, Repulsion was as filthy and raging as one could’ve possibly hoped, Carlson noting before “Bodily Dismemberment” that he and Olivo wrote the song in Death guitarist/vocalist Chuck Schuldiner‘s bedroom while Evil Chuck was out working at Del Taco. Easily the best story I heard from the stage today. When they were done, it was time for Death Alley in the Green Room, which was probably my most anticipated set of the day, foremost because I so very much dug their debut LP, last year’s Black Magick Boogieland (review here), but also because it was billed as Death Alley + Friends, which signaled to me a high potential for some psych weirdness to go with their driving heavy rock and proto-thrash. Add to that the fact that the first time I saw the band was at the Hardrock Hideout in 2014, and basically I wasn’t missing them for anything.

After a line check with all six parties on stage, they started the set with just the core four-piece lineup — vocalist Douwe Truijens, guitarist/backing vocalist Oeds Beydals, bassist/backing vocalist Dennis Duijnhouwer and drummer Ming Boyer — and dove headfirst into their cover of Hawkwind‘s “Motorhead” (premiered here) to begin a kinetic thrust that would only increase in energy as it went along. They were fucking awesome, flat out. I could go on and on in overindulgent language about how righteous Death Alley‘s take on heavy has become, and how expansive, in the two years since I last saw them, but it boils down to the same thing. After the title-track from Black Magick Boogieland, “The Fever” and “Stalk Eyed,” they brought out guitarists Ron van Herpen (also of Astrosoniq, formerly of The Devil’s Blood, currently of ZooN) and Jevin de Groot, who was a bandmate of Duijnhouwer‘s in the wildly underrated — remind me sometime to tell you about how frickin’ underrated they were — cosmic doom outfit Mühr.

The resulting sextet incarnation of Death Alley brought extra fullness of sound and all-out swirl to two cuts that seemed newer, “II’s On” an “Feeding the Lions,” before rounding out with a triumphantly spacious rendition of “Supernatural Predator,” the band three-guitar, pull-the-earplugs-out psych-jamming their way farther out and out and out into the cosmos, utterly hypnotizing the Green Room as they went, Beydals, Truijens and Duijnhouwer sharing the vocal duties that Farida Lemouchi performed on the record — before, with nothing more than a few snare hits from Boyer, they masterfully turned the jam on its head and dug back into the space-rocking-push of the song’s central riff to finish out. A surge of electricity went through the room. They’d wind up being my band of the day, hands down, and the really good news is they play another set on Sunday, closing out the fest where it all began, at Cul de Sac.

As Death Alley were spacing out in the Green Room, With the Dead took the Main Stage for what I think was their third show ever, the four-piece including the day’s curator Lee Dorrian, of Rise Above Records and Cathedral fame (to start with) as well as new drummer Alex Thomas (ex-Bolt Thrower), and new bassist Leo Smee (formerly of Cathedral) in addition to guitarist Tim Bagshaw, whose tone was as grime-coated as I recalled it being when I saw him with Ramesses here in 2011. They played the bulk of their 2015 self-titled debut (review here), including “Living with the Dead” and “The Cross” and “Nephthys.” Come to think of it, it might’ve been the whole record. They had an hour and only have the one album, so, you know, you have to make the most of the time.

Even apart from their pedigree — and I’ll readily admit that it’s difficult to separate these guys from their pedigree — With the Dead‘s material is devastatingly heavy, and Dorrian‘s sneer was as true to the dirt coming from Bagshaw and Smee‘s amps as the riffs were raw and oppressive. Seemingly on the other end of the spectrum entirely, but really only back in the Green Room, after Death Alley finished with the aforementioned jam, Sweden’s Hills followed-up with ultra-groovy heavy psych of their own. The poorly kept secret is that they’re the same band as Goat (though whether all or in part, I don’t know), but if it’s Hills‘ brand of laid back kosmiche or Goat‘s afrobeat-inspired costumed throb, I’ll take the former every time. Sans pretense, they were in a fully molten state by the time they got around to the title-track from 2011’s Master Sleeps, having brought out Svensk Psych Aften label owner and promoter Sven Kruppa for a guest vocal spot earlier in the set that felt kind of random, but in such an open context could hardly be considered out of place.

There was a lot to dig about them, from the trance-inducing aspects to the custom visuals, but it was the peace-through-jam serene atmosphere they proffered that most struck me. At the same time, they weren’t quiet — or at least not all the time — and they had energy in their delivery. A lot to dig, but sadly no merch to buy. I was hoping to pick up a CD of last year’s Frid, which is sold out online, but no dice. Apparently you can believe what you read on the internet. While a take-home version of their mesmeric, pulsating and still definitively laid back space rock wasn’t forthcoming, the vibe they set was enjoyable in the moment, though it would soon enough be back to extremity as I got a sampling of G.I.S.M. on the Main Stage.

Granted, it was somewhat obligatory. G.I.S.M. were formed 35 years ago and this marked first show in 14 years and their first show ever outside their native Japan. Showing up wasn’t really optional. I didn’t have quite the same nostalgia factor as I did for Repulsion, but many, many others certainly did, and I watched as G.I.S.M. showcased punk extremity that underscored just how broad Roadburn‘s spectrum has become. I was waiting to close out the night with Black Moon Circle, at Extase, and Peter Pan Speedrock in the Green Room, so I went up to the balcony in the Main Stage room and sat back for the end of G.I.S.M., which of course was no less furious than the start had been.

I knew I was missing Pentagram, and that’s not nothing. But every Roadburn means hard choices, and since Black Moon Circle are Norwegian and Peter Pan Speedrock are playing their last shows — allegedly — ever on their current European tour, priority was given. No regrets. With Roadburn regular Scott “Dr. Space” Heller joining the trio, Black Moon Circle were a more grounded answer to Hills, but still plenty jammy when it came down to it. Dr. Space, whose synth is a swirl factory in itself, always helps in that regard — one recalls his set with Carlton Melton a couple years back — and while I was only there for a short while, and I spent a goodly portion of that trying to get my camera to focus in the mostly darkened Extase, which turned down its lights to allow for Black Moon Circle‘s psychedelic oil lightshow, as well as thinking about how I need to get a review up for their new album, Sea of Clouds, they were a pleasure to watch. I had a hard time pulling myself away.

Motivation in the end, though, was that Peter Pan Speedrock, the Eindhoven trio who’ve been blasting out mission-in-the-name heavy punk for over 20 years, are preparing to retire. They’ve got fest dates booked into the summer and more shows in the fall announced, so I don’t know when they’re actually doing that, but from what I hear, it’s true nonetheless. I’d never seen them before, but in about 20 seconds, the sprint was at full speed and guitarist Peter van Elderen seemed to be out to earn the two-decades of reputation again as quickly as possible, manic in his motion from front to back of the stage, foot up on the monitor, standing on the barricade to play directly to the audience, whatever it might’ve been as drummer Bart Nederhand and bassist Bart Geevers locked in grooves with no room left for questions.

Songs came and went in short, intense bursts, and if this, as my first indoctrination to Peter Pan Speedrock live, is also to be my last, then I’m glad at least I got to see the band once. I was clearly in the minority in that, by the way. Granted, Eindhoven’s only a few towns over from Tilburg, but between singing along to the Hank Williams track that served as their intro to starting a mosh pit in the Green Room, it was abundantly clear that the majority in attendance were more experienced than I when it came to seeing the band. Fair enough for the near-hometown heroes. The last shows I saw booked for them are in November. Never say never, but if they are done, that’s a loss.

Hardly a bummer ending to the night, though. They were far too upbeat and kick-your-ass for that. There was more going on afterwards, but I needed to get back and get writing, so I made my way through the crowd and out, down a busy Weirdo Canyon and back to the hotel. Tomorrow starts bright and early and ends dark and late, but promises plenty of incredible sights and sounds between. Fortunately I kept my wristband on this time.

More pics after the jump. Thanks for reading.

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04.15.16 – 00:16 — Hotel room, Tilburg

Already it seems like Roadburn is in full swing. There’s no sense of the outside world, only Roadburn, which always has and always will. Familiar faces abound, and new ones too. A lot of them. That build-out on the 013 allowed for more tickets sold, so inarguably Roadburn 2016 is the most crowded this event has ever been. That’s saying something. Mostly, it’s saying, “get there early if you want to get up front.”

I did just that what seems like a million hours ago for The Poisoned Glass starting the day — the first day; my god, it’s still the first day — at Het Patronaat, aka the church. The band is new, but the players involved were clearly known to the early crowd, vocalist/noisemaker Edgy59 and bassist G. Stuart Dahlquist both veterans of widely influential doom extremists Burning Witch. By astounding coincidence, their debut album, 10 Swords, came out this week via Ritual Productions, and they played the vast majority of it and then some, the volume of Dahlquist‘s bass loud enough to vibrate earplugs and dissuade any accusations of minimalism one might try to make.

With Edgy59 switching between harsh screaming rasps and cleaner vocals, it was entertaining to look around the room and see so many smiling faces among those in attendance. Yes, the music is unspeakably dark. Yes, it sounds like your soul in a trash compactor. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it. Their post-Khanate dystopian oppression found its audience for sure, and it was gripping to watch the seething intensity in Edgy59‘s performance particularly, his movements restless in comparison to the slow motion tempos of the material. They were as heavy in mood as in Dahlquist‘s tone, and inescapable in their rumbling churn. Perfect for the church.

As they were wrapping up, Inverloch were taking the stage in the redone Green Room. I tried to catch some of Mantra Machine, but already the Cul de Sac was full and it would remain so for the duration. I thought about running over to Extase, which is around the other side of the alley behind the Patronaat, to get a sample of Grafir, but wound up marauding through the merch section — like a fucking champ — and back at the church to catch Der Blutharsch and the Infinite Church of the Leading Hand, who, as it turns out, were exactly what I was looking for.

Later on, I’d go back to the merch area to pick up a full copy of their new record, The Wolvennest Sessions, which came out in December, and grabbing 2012’s The Story About the Digging of the Hole and the Hearing of the Sounds from Hell on a whim, basically because that’s how good Der Blutharsch and the Infinite Church of the Leading Hand Were, the Austrian experimentalists celebrating their 20th anniversary with a short tour in the winding-down stage. Their blend of classic krautrock and forward-thinking psychedelia was a joy to take in, and since their stuff is so far out, I didn’t really know what was coming. Anything would’ve been a surprise. With founder Albin Julius on synth and vocals, they spread their sound out over their hour-long set and seemed right at home in the flow.

There seems to be some threat that this is their last tour. Obviously, I don’t know if that’s true or not, and since they’re pretty prolific, I wouldn’t take that to mean they’re done overall — though one never knows — but even if it’s a year or a few years before they get out again, I felt fortunate to watch them play. It’s the kind of thing I’d never get to see anywhere but at Roadburn, something I didn’t even know how badly I wanted to watch, and though I checked out a little early to go catch The Skull on the Main Stage back at the 013, Der Blutharsch and the Infinite Church of the Leading Hand left one of the day’s most memorable impressions. Considering the course of the day, that’s saying something.

Yeah, I watched The Skull last night at the Hardrock Hideout (review here). It’s a fact. I thought this was their set of Trouble songs, and there were a few sprinkled in for good measure, of course — “R.I.P.,” “At the End of My Daze,” “Come Touch the Sky” and so on — but was awfully Skull-y for being the Trouble set, which as it turns out is late tomorrow night. Go figure. No harm done, of course. Let “A New Generation” and “The Longing” be the worst things that ever happen at Roadburn. They riffed on “I Want You/She’s so Heavy” and tossed “Till the Sun Turns Black” into the set, which was certainly welcome, and after the swinging “Send Judas Down,” which included a nod to “In-a-Gadda-Da-Vida,” it was once again the title-track from For Those Which are Asleep (review here) rounding out.

To see them on such a huge stage less than 24 hours after seeing them in a club that holds about 200 people was something of a trip, but The Skull were no less in command of the cavernous space than they were the tiny Cul de Sac, where New Keepers of the Water Towers were going on shortly. I ran over quickly to see if there was any room in the building. There was enough for me to buy a copy of their new album, Infernal Machine (review here), but by the time you walked to the bar in the much-longer-than-it-is-wide venue, there was basically no passage through the throng of humanity. Buying the record seemed like the least I could do for having made the attempt to see them and failed, and once I got it, I headed back to the Main Stage to watch The Skull finish and to wait for Hexvessel, who were one of my most anticipated bands for the entire fest, to take the Main Stage.

I said as much in today’s Weirdo Canyon Dispatch (issue here) but nature-worshiping Finnish outfit Hexvessel‘s new record, When We are Death (review here), stands among the best albums of 2016 so far. Before they went on, I ran over to the merch area — more of a waddle, really — and picked up the artbook edition of the album as well as a patch with a fish head on it. They also had owls and bears and several other wildlife options, but you don’t see a lot of fish in underground heavy, so I was all about it. No idea what I’ll do with the thing, not being the battle-vest type, but whatever. For three euro? Sold. Their set more than justified both purchases, focused heavily on the new album and a huge shift in dynamic from when they were here in 2012, having departed from their folkish roots on the strength of infectious, progressive and deeply nuanced songs like “Mushroom Spirit Doors,” a set highlight, and “Cosmic Truth,” which frontman Mat McNerney prefaced by saying it was about, “true love and spaceships.” Needless to say, right up my alley.

Quietly percussive, “Hunter’s Prayer” finished off what seemed to be Hexvessel‘s regular set, after “Cosmic Truth,” “Mushroom Spirit Doors,” “Transparent Eyeball,” “Teeth of the Mountain,” “Mirror Boy,” and “Sacred Marriage” and the earlier “Woods to Conjure” from 2012’s No Holier Temple, but the band did an encore of sorts with “Earth over Us” and “When I’m Dead” back to back, both maddeningly catchy, the former delivered with surprising heft from the stage, before closing with “Invocation Summoning” from their 2011 debut, Dawnbearer, McNerney encouraging the crowd to sing and clap along, which of course it did.

Timing worked out that as Hexvessel were finishing, Bang were starting in the Green Room, so I hobbled over there and waited for the Franks and Jake to follow-up their Hardrock Hideout set with another runthrough of their heavy ’70s lost classics. They did not disappoint, and their warm, laid back take on heavy rock continues to thrill. I’ve seen the band I don’t even know how many times at this point — let’s say circa 15 — but their vibe is always right on, and I don’t think I’ve heard bassist Frank Ferrara‘s tone sound as full and inviting as it has last night and tonight. He and guitarist Frankie Gilcken founded the band in 1969 and their self-titled debut was released two years later, and Ferrara remarked from the stage that their first European appearance — this one — was 46 years in the making. Time flies.

Much to their credit, they lived up to the occasion, and though he’s far from being an original member of the band, Jake Leger‘s drums have become essential to Bang‘s live presence. Maybe they’ll do another record, maybe they won’t, but with Leger swinging away behind, Gilcken and Ferrara are that much more able to nail that spirit every time out. “Lions, Christians” was a highlight, and of course “Our Home,” both from the self-titled, but in the live setting, the much newer “The Maze” is no less vintage-sounding. I think Leger is a big part of that. A third in the power trio, at very least. As they always do, Bang looked to be genuinely enjoying making their European debut, and a crowd that already knew their songs made it seem all the more overdue.

Back on the Main Stage, Converge were finishing up their set playing 2001’s Jane Doe in full: The album that launched 100,000 metalcore bands who were nowhere near as interesting as Converge ever were. Hard to hold that against it, I suppose. I caught the tail end of the set, which was as furious as it would have to be, and the four-piece of vocalist Jacob Bannon, guitarist Kurt Ballou, bassist Nate Newton and drummer Ben Koller brought out former bassist Stephen Brodsky (also Cave In) to join them on guitar and melodic vocals for the closing title-track from Jane Doe, its sweep well on the other side of epic. Not really my thing stylistically, but people were jammed into the Main Stage space for them, and I watched as dudes had to be helped out of the front for what I guess was a rare Roadburn pit — unless someone just stepped on that guy’s foot, which would be sadder somehow — so it was clear the room was making the connection to the off-genre elements Jane Doe brought to hardcore, or more likely, they made that connection 15 years ago. Either way.

My second failure at Cul de Sac came after Converge were done when I ran over to try to see the reunited Gomer Pyle. No luck. Same as with New Keepers: I bought a CD and that was about as close as I could get. Fair enough. By this time, I was reconciling myself to the fact that I’d probably not get in to see either Zone Six at Cul de Sac or CHRCH at Extase, both of which were bigtime mental bummers. Still, as consolation, Paradise Lost playing their defining 1991 opus, Gothic, in its entirety ain’t bad. That album turns 25 this year, has been reissued multiple times over, and its influence continues to spread, now feeding a new generation a blueprint of how to do death/doom so very, very right.

It would’ve been an event to see Paradise Lost play anything, but “Gothic,” “Shattered,” “Dead Emotion” — this is the stuff of which doom extremity is made. I stayed a while to pay my respects and then did decide after all to not be a defeatist jerk and see if I could get in for Zone Six after all. I could. The key was to be early as hell. That’s an old Roadburn trick. The German space jammers, who feature in their ranks Dave “Sula Bassana” Schmidt and Komet Lulu, both of Electric Moon, played as a trio with Rainer Neeff on guitar, which meant that synth specialist Modulfix was missing, but the jams were happening either way. I dug the gosh darn heck out of last year’s Love Monster (review here), and they were another act where the safer assumption probably would’ve been that I’d never get to watch them do a set save at Roadburn. I am very, very fortunate to be here.

Zone Six played in the dark. I mean it. Cul de Sac isn’t exactly bright to start with, and Lulu asked before they went on to have the lights turned down so it was like shooting a show in Boston in there. With Sula filling in on synth, their swirl was certainly colorful enough that it would’ve justified a bit of brightness, but I’ll take what I can get and the pictures can work themselves out. I got to see Zone Six. That’s a win. And since I had a hot streak going, I thought maybe I’d give Extase a shot for CHRCH to round out the night on a bludgeoning note of tonal mass, their Unanswered Hymns (review here) debut album on Battleground Records continuing to resonate as one of 2015’s best. As fate would have it, my luck held.

My two gotta-sees for today were Hexvessel and CHRCH. I wish I could say I stayed for the latter’s full set, but between the fact that it was getting on midnight and I had writing to do and the full-crowd press up against the stage in Extase bringing on a need for breathable air that smelled like something other than beer sweat, I indeed did not. Was enough to see them play “Unanswered Hymns” though to justify my anticipation. The Sacramento five-piece are touring to support the aforementioned first LP, and they’re doing numerous fests in the US as well as putting in this abroad road time, so it probably won’t be the last time in my life I run into them, but I was extraordinarily glad I did. Partially veiled frontwoman Eva played up a ritualistic sensibility with incense at the front of the stage, but really, so much of what they did was about absolutely crushing everything in their path — which is a kind of ritual, granted — that their primary impression was one of sheer impact. Switching between screams and cleaner croons, Eva shared vocal duties with guitarist Chris, whose growls underscored the death/doom aspects of CHRCH‘s sound, making them all the more crushing.

Listening to Unanswered Hymns, it was clear CHRCH (who were called Church at the time) were onto something that could be really special. After watching them bring that material to life, I feel no less vehement in my appreciation for just how on-the-right-path they absolutely are. Their second offering will be a big tell. I can’t wait to hear what it has to say.

When it was time to go, I fought my way through the wall of humans at Extase and eventually out into the street where some non-Roadburn-type tourists were taking their picture in front of the big cathedral. Dudes were plastered. I took their picture with one of their phones and told them to have a good night. Theirs might’ve just been beginning, and I suppose in a way mine was too, but with Day One of Roadburn 2016 down, I felt like something really substantial had been accomplished even as I looked at the schedule for tomorrow and Saturday and Sunday and knew that there remains so much more to come.

More pics after the jump. Thanks for reading.

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04.14.16 – 11:51AM – 013, office

Some issue with the printer in the office here at the 013. Doubt it’s anything major, but it’s just holding up the proof of the day’s issue of the Weirdo Canyon Dispatch. I’m not worried. It will work out. It’s hard to be worried with such a professional crew working here. Shaman Lee is on it as well, so while I have a couple changes to make in the copy, and the deadline is/was noon to start printing, we’ll get there.

In the interim, I got to catch a minute of Paradise Lost’s soundcheck. The new Main Stage space is huge — holds 3,000 people — and I expect it will be full. When I showed up to the loading dock (also suitably cavernous) this morning, I got a tour of the redone 013. There’s a photo pit in the new Jupiler Stage (former Green Room), which makes me feel like the universe is doing me personal favors, and space downstairs for the panels and this and that. I don’t know of anything in the US that compares to it. It’s a big country, I’m sure there’s something in a similar class somewhere, anywhere, but nothing I’ve ever seen. That was true before it was redone as well, and now it’s brand new.

And of course the sound is incredible. The space is both familiar and not, and I expect it’ll take some getting used to going from room to room, then down the way to Extase or Cul de Sac — I’m already nervous about missing CHRCH later tonight owing to the crowd; they’re among the most anticipated bands for the fest from people here and playing the smallest space — but it’s Roadburn. Everything will be fine. It’s so good to be here again. I saw Walter and Becky and Miranda and Gijs and a bunch of other familiar faces from the 013 crew, and it’s been nothing but warm feelings since I walked in. I even met the general manager of the 013, who is responsible for bringing me over again to do the WCD. I felt like I should’ve brought him a gift basket. Here sir, please take these fruits and cheeses as a minimal token of my appreciation. Would be hilarious to try to get that through customs, standing like a dope on the non-EU passports line.

Just a couple hours now until the start. We’ll get the margins for the ‘zine sorted and then get to folding, and maybe I’ll have some more coffee before the day begins in earnest, or that tea that I put in the office fridge to cool off, and then take a deep breath before the big plunge. Definitely felt like it after last night, but Roadburn 2016 starts now.

Check out the first issue of Weirdo Canyon Dispatch here

For the last couple years, the Hardrock Hideout has served as both a precursor to Roadburn proper and a showcase for a different side of the fest’s scope: namely thrash. Clearly Roadburn is changing the script somewhat in 2016, however, since this year’s Hardrock Hideout lineup worked in a range of styles and expanded its bill from two to three acts. To the best of my knowledge, Jucifer was on board first, but either The Skull or Bang is worth making room for, despite the fact that they’ll both also play as part of Roadburn itself, which starts tomorrow. In the case of The Skull, twice.

The Hardrock Hideout also made for a handy reminder of one other thing: Just how unbelievably crowded this weekend is going to be. I got to the Cul de Sac — located right in the heart of Weirdo Canyon — about half an hour before Bang went on and still there were other people up front. It’s only Wednesday! I’m willing to wager that a good portion of the people attending this weekend aren’t even in town yet. Absolute madness.

I’d slept for about 40 minutes beforehand, but that didn’t stop the show from being killer front to back. Here’s how it went down:

Bang

It’s been about a year and a half since the last time I saw Bang (review here), and that interim has clearly had some effect on guitarist Frankie Gilcken and bassist/vocalist Frank Ferrara and drummer Jake Leger in an expanded setlist with cuts like “Come with Me” and “Future Shock” from their 1971 self-titled debut, which has been newly reissued via Svart Records. They had copies of that and the concurrent Mother reissue, but I didn’t see Death of a Country or Music, though to be fair, I couldn’t just missed it. Either way, it would’ve been hard to find a better-suited opener for Roadburn‘s festivities than Bang. Their sound is so laid back and classic in its tone and execution that it gave The Skull and Jucifer a foundation from which to expand with their own sets, at the same time, providing Bang with a fantastic European debut. That’s right. In the band’s 40-plus-year history, this was the first time they ever gigged in Europe. Talk about setting high standards. Of course, “Our Home” was a highlight, and they closed out with “Questions,” leaving the crowd shouting for more when they were done.

The Skull

Feels a little like tattling to say so, but Eric Wagner smoked three cigarettes on stage tonight. Three. It may have been smelly, but it didn’t stop the band from going full-force into Trouble classics like “R.I.P.,” “At the End of My Daze” and “Bastards Will Pay,” which showed up early and was among the most welcome inclusions in the set. As noted, The Skull — Eric Wagner (ex-Trouble), guitarists Lothar Keller and Rob Wrong (also Witch Mountain), bassist Ron Holzner (ex-Trouble) and drummer Sean Saley (ex-Pentagram) — will play two more sets this weekend. One will be comprised of Trouble material, the other The Skull originals from their 2014 Tee Pee Records debut, For Those Which are Asleep (review here), and presumably some newer material as well. To that end, they included the new song “The Longing” from their recent tour EP (streamed here), and “Until the Sun Turns Black” from the full-length, and after pushing toward the end with a couple Trouble standards, it seemed especially telling that they closed with the title-track from For Those Which are Asleep, which was, it’s well worth noting, more than up to the task, Saley hammering the heavy groove of its choruses while Rob Wrong — a relatively recent addition to a seemingly perpetually fluid lineup around Keller, Wagner and Holzner — shredded out solos in trade with Keller on the other side of the stage. Wagner, on his third butt by then, joked about having just come through Tilburg a month ago and played Little Devil, but he and the entire band seemed glad to be back, and if Tilburg was showing any sign of The Skull fatigue, I certainly couldn’t see it.

Jucifer

From thunderous, plodding doom to teeth-gnashing grindcore — often in the span of a measure or less — Jucifer have a reputation for onslaught that is well earned. The long-running two-piece of guitarist/vocalist Gazelle Amber Valentine and drummer Edgar Livengood seemed to have some technical trouble as they were setting up Valentine’s two guitar half-stacks (one for each side of the stage) and bass rig, and also early in the set, but it would’ve taken heavy industrial/construction equipment and trained professionals to derail their momentum. Their sound a force of extremity in its purpose and its sheer sense of attack, they were quickly off and running, Livengood reaching up to hit his high crash cymbals with twirling sticks and a primal joy in his work that one occasionally sees in drummers truly born to do what they’re doing, which I’d argue Livengood is. This was my first time seeing Jucifer, I’ll confess. It should’ve been much sooner. Valentine‘s vocals were a little low in the mix, buried under the immense slab of weight that was her guitar tone, but one would be hard pressed to say they didn’t get their point across. By then, the Cul de Sac was packed beyond the point of being able to move through the crowd, and standing in front of Valentine and Livengood was like being able to watch the gleeful steamroller about to flatten you into pavement and being able to do nothing about it. Far worse ways to go. They’re of course known for their stylized wall of cabinets that they take on tour with them — they’re pretty much constantly touring; a few years ago there was word they were fully nomadic, living out of their camper, but I’ve no idea if that’s still the case — but even without that imposing wall of speakers, Jucifer were loud enough to vibrate earplugs in the ear and they gave Roadburn the riotous start it deserves.

—

It’s after one in the morning, local time. Tomorrow I need to be up to finalize the Weirdo Canyon Dispatch issue, so I’ll cut it there and just say thanks for reading and there’s much more to come.

Tomorrow begins Roadburn 2016.

More pics after the jump.

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04.13.16 — 16:47 CET — Hotel room, Tilburg, NL

Got in a little bit ago. I am unshowered. I am unslept, unfed, dehydrated, decaffeinated. Upon landing at Schiphol Airport, I decided against coffee because I thought I’d come to the hotel and go to sleep before the Hardrock Hideout kicks off Roadburn 2016 in a couple hours. I’m starting to feel like that was the wrong decision. Shaman Lee, with whom I’m sharing a hotel room, showed up with some powdered cappuccino and I had one of those, which helped, but I could use something to eat and a few hours shuteye. Not gonna happen.

This is me shocking myself into Roadburn mode. The next four days are going to be nonstop. I know this well, and it’ll be coffee and adrenaline carrying me through it, as always, I just need to get into that space mentally and physically. The Hardrock Hideout is the stretching session before the marathon. By Friday I won’t remember my name. Existence will be a haze of tonal weight and the impulse to type. Obliterated. Living the dream.

The Netherlands is still beautiful. The architecture, the spaces, even the sound barriers they put on the side of the highway look like art. It’s an amazing place. I’m lucky to be back. The hotel room looks out around the corner to Weirdo Canyon, which is about all one can possibly ask of a vantage point.

I already lost my sunglasses. Took no time whatsoever. I took a shuttle from the airport with the artist Kim Holm and the 11 people apparently operating under the banner of Misþyrming for the fest, left my sunglasses in the back of the van. My only excuse is I’m about a quarter conscious. They were my backup pair anyway, so no great loss, but it doesn’t bode well for my over-the-head pillow, which I brought along against my better judgment, knowing I left another pillow here three or four years ago. Tried to have the hotel mail it and everything. They did not.

What the hell was I saying? Roadburn mode. I’ll get there. A shower will help, so I’m gonna get to work on that and get some of this plane-funk off my skin. More later.

04.12.16 — 6:35PM Eastern — Boston Logan Intl. — At the gate

The flight before my flight, or maybe the flight before the flight before my flight — one does like to get to the airport early — seems to be running late, so the place is packed. A constant murmur bleeding through the quiet moments of the Spotlights album, which, despite that, is pretty good. Whenever my time comes, I’ll board the plane and fly redeye-style to Reykavik, which may be the coolest thing I ever get to say in my life: “Yeah, it was a redeye to Reykjavik.” No big deal. I do it all the time.

Nothing, of course, could be farther from the truth. This doesn’t happen all the time. This happens once a year. After connecting in Reykjavik, I head on to Amsterdam and then — maybe a car, maybe a train?; not sure yet — to Tilburg for what will be my eighth attendance the Roadburn Festival, third as editor of the Weirdo Canyon Dispatch daily ‘zine. I am no longer able to convey how special this time of year is for me, nor can I accurately describe the clawing I’ve done through the last several weeks to get to this point. Last year, I walked onto the loading dock behind the 013 venue, where Roadburn is held or at very least based, and said out loud it was good to be home. That space has been redone in the interim — so have I, to an extent — but I know once I get there and figure out where the stages are it will be the same feeling.

An ultimate escape from real life, and right now particularly, one sorely needed. Having gone back to work full-time has drained me past a comfortable point of the parts of me that I consider myself, and as I’ve been squirming in my seat for I don’t even know how long, this is precisely the kind of okay-go-play I need to make me feel alive again, like I’m something more than a commuter with short hair or the office weirdo who always takes his shoes off at his desk. I need to not be that, I think probably even more than I realize I need it.

If you’ve read this site’s Roadburn coverage in previous years, then you know how it goes. Each night, after the day’s events are over, I will update with a wrap up of that day. It’s not quite live-blogging, which would be me tweeting that Neurosis are awesome while Neurosis are playing and offers in my view precious little substance (though I will probably post some stuff on Instagram as well), but I hope to capture a fraction of the vibrant, creative mania that drives this event and, in my view and my experience, makes it different from everything else out there and, yes, special as fuck.

Let’s say each day’s review will be up before the next day starts, at the latest. But unless a piano falls on my head, that means late-night posts all the way.

Hours to go before I leave, and from what I hear I have a middle seat on the flight — of the exit row, but still — so I don’t expect too many favors from the universe on this one, but at the end of this slog is Roadburn, and if Roadburn is anything at all, it’s worth getting to. This is the start of my calendar, a retreat for mind and what in my pitiful case passes for a spirit, and I can’t wait to be surrounded by the music, the people and to be in the place itself. There isn’t a doubt in my mind it will be incredible. Not one.

Thanks in advance for reading if you do and for being a part of this.

Every year, without fail, there comes a point at which one is forced to wonder if Roadburn has lost its damn mind. So it is today as the news hits the inbox of Roadburn 2016 “rounding out its lineup” with more bands than most festivals manage to host in a weekend. Unbefuckinglievable.

Over 30 acts have joined the bill for Roadburn 2016, which I’m thrilled and proud to say I’ll be attending and covering while also editing the Weirdo Canyon Dispatch daily ‘zine once again, including Scott Kelly and Sanford Parker‘s Mirrors for Psychic Warfare, Buried at Sea (also featuring Parker), New Keepers of the Water Towers, Usnea, Death Alley, Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell, Beastmaker, Gomer Pyle, Carousel, Zone Six, The Progerians (who have a new video out that’s getting posted in just a bit, Menhir and of course many others.

Oh yeah, and Jucifer are playing the pre-show. Pure madness.

I can’t wait:

Final additions to the Roadburn bill, including full Cul de Sac line up

New additions to the bill include BURIED AT SEA, MIRRORS FOR PSYCHIC WARFARE, INVERLOCH, CULT OF OCCULT, CHVE, and USNEA.
Full line up for Cul de Sac venue announced, including ‘Roadburn Introduces…’
JUCIFER announced for the Hard Rock Hide Out pre-Roadburn part

BURIED AT SEA

From the beginning surge of feedback through the last filth-caked rumble, BURIED AT SEA’s sound is a monument to the notion of tone as weight. Abrasive in the extreme and matched in aural largesse only by the sway of its rhythm, it surrounds completely and oppresses mercilessly. Here at Roadburn Festival HQ, we are beyond excited to announce BURIED AT SEA will bring their one-of-a-kind dirges to Roadburn 2016 on Sunday, April 17 at the 013 venue in Tilburg, The Netherlands.

MIRRORS FOR PSYCHIC WARFARE

We always knew they were unusually talented musicians, but in the last few years Scott Kelly and Sanford Parker have also become remarkably prolific, showing a wonderfully multi-faceted aspect to their artistic expression throughout a multitude of projects. They now appear as the sole members of this latest endeavour, MIRRORS FOR PSYCHIC WARFARE. A sort of reverse side of the coin to the unfettered, confrontational aggression of Corrections House, the five songs on their self-titled debut, are more insidious. MIRRORS FOR PSYCHIC WARFARE perform on Sunday, April 17 in the Green Room.

For more information about the above bands click here.

FURTHER ADDITIONS TO THE BILL

In addition to the above, the following bands have also been added to the Roadburn 2016 line up.

CHVE – click here for more info

SIR ADMIRAL CLOUDSESLEY SHOVEL (part of Lee Dorrian’s curated event)
BEASTMAKER (part of Lee Dorrian’s curated event)
CAROUSEL
click here for more info on these bands

CULT OF OCCULT
DANIEL PAYNE
HELL
INVERLOCH
USNEA
click here for more info on these bands

CUL DE SAC LINE UP

Once again, Roadburn Festival is very happy to be hosting our fifth at the Cul de Sac in collaboration with Never Mind The Hype, an independent Dutch music platform (think: rock meets alternative, or stoner rock meets psych). At Cul de Sac, we will focus on showcasing promising Dutch and Belgian bands, plus some acts from further afield. Positioned just around the corner from the 013 venue, the intimate surroundings of the Cul de Sac mean you can get up close and personal with some of the best up and coming bands we could get our hands on.

Once again we have picked one band to showcase under the Roadburn Introduces… banner, and in association with Nevermind The Hype, we’re pleased to announce that the showcase band for 2016 is DOOL. Hailing from Rotterdam, DOOL will lure us into their spiraling netherworld, and connect with the international Roadburn community during an intimate show at the Cul de Sac on Saturday April 16 in Tilburg,The Netherlands. DOOL starts at 2 pm. Click here to read more about DOOL.

Thursday April 14
MOLOKEN
NEW KEEPERS OF THE WATER TOWERS
ZONE SIX
DEAD NEANDERTHALS
GOMER PYLE
MANTRA MACHINE
Click here for more info

Friday April 15
HERDER
ALKERDEEL FEATURING GNAW THEIR TONGUES
COCAINE PISS
NOCTUM
OBESE
CONCATENATUS
Click here for more info

Just as we did last year, Roadburn will focus on Belgium, and in collaboration with one of the country’s foremost bookings agencies, RuffStuff Music, we welcome some fantastic bands hailing from just next door in Belgium – bands that embodied the spirit of Roadburn. Together we will host some exciting, cutting edge bands, alongside Roadburn’s established acts, for the second year in a row.

Saturday April 16
HEMELBESTORMER (click here for more info)
GRIMMSONS
PARTISAN
THE PROGERIANS
WE’REWOLVES
VVOVNDS
Click here for more info

Sunday April 17
SYNDROME
CHAOS ECHOES
MENHIR
WITCH TRAIL
And finish your Roadburn experience with DEATH ALLEY
Click here for more info

HARD ROCK HIDE OUT

In keeping with what has become Roadburn tradition, we’ll be welcoming keen Roadburners to Tilburg on Wednesday, April 13 with a party at Cul de Sac. Whilst newcomers get their bearings, return visitors will slip straight back into old habits. Welcoming Roadburners to Tilburg this year will be none other than our our favourite pair of highly-amplified nomads – JUCIFER. They will park up at the Cul de Sac for the evening and rip through their harsh, thrashy, sludgy, doomy, downright massive tunes.

TICKETS

Day tickets for Thursday and Friday remain on sale, but all other ticketing options are now SOLD OUT. For a full rundown of the line up and to view the line up posters, please click HERE.

Buried at Sea, Ghost (2007)