0

More than a week ago there was a countdown on this blog but by now it may seem that it was a countdown to...zero. Zero being nothing at all. Well, that isn't the case, we actually made it to the festival and we managed to experience a genuine British event. We saw how the pubs were outnumbered by the eating places, we learnt how pleasant is to wait for a bus that is a couple of meters away - or three couple of feet - but never comes while rain clouds are standing by as well, just in case. We witnessed the queues for drinks or for an opportunity to let that out in a toilet, even the queues to get in the queue.

           On the bright side: the big four was there, big four with benefits as in the smallest of the big thrash bands had a guitar player from the biggest "small" thrash band. To make this clear: replacing Anthrax's emblematic Scott Ian - who is on a pregnancy leave - was Andreas Kisser of Sepultura fame. The sound was incredible and the bands played really good as well, even Megadave showed signs of maturity. About time for that. Hats off for every performance, sadly it wasn't mind-blowing for me, no shivers down my back, no inexplicable flood of tears, in short, no catharsis. Maybe catharsis is something that most people think is reserved for theatre or opera or any other posh art but for me it only comes on metal concerts. Purify! While we crawled our ways outwards through a sea of people time flew by and by the time we've got back to London it was already dawn. So we didn't bother to go back for Saturday, so instead of three quarters of the old Sepultura we only saw one. We'll catch them later, when they decide there is time for a reunion. Anyway, on the sixth day we rested and went back on the rest day for some more rock'n'roll and we received exactly that from an aging but nevertheless energetic Motörhead. Before that we witnessed the wake-up call of Arch Enemy with a shamefully short set, only six songs, but hey, if 6 is a good start for the number of the beast who am I to complain. We witnessed the 2 minutes semi-silence for Paul Grady but that was all we’ve got from Slipknot, by the time everyone was poking his eyes and jumping the fuck up we where home watching the live stream over the internet.

Everything passes, that’s another dumb cliché that is true so here I am, more then a week later on my favourite night ship with the same religious fanatics surrounding me.

Maybe they saw some interest from my behalf, I don't know but the guy that's sitting next to me has an English book, this well could be an attempt to lure me in. They should print the book with larger fonts, as the only thing I can read is "Communion with God" and that's not enough. Not that it matters, it seems that nothing matters, I don't really understand the meaning of this blog either so I guess I'll do as the aforementioned Slipknot and go on a hiatus. Well, not exactly like them, they actually did something before they went on doing nothing. London doesn't stop here nor does metal, only the blabbering.

Until I see you again: good bye and don't forget:

Long live r'n'r from Diabolus Dei on Vimeo.