Photos by Eivind Nakken
Another year, another Easter. Not content with following the Norwegian tradition of trekking to the mountains for arduous skiing trips and gorging ourselves on chocolate, we once again set the course for Oslo. For every year since 2001, thousands of metalheads have converged on the Norwegian capital from all over the world to have their own Easter celebration, marked by brutal music and unholy amounts of alcohol. Welcome to the Inferno Festival!
While this year’s line-up in no way feels like the strongest Inferno has had to offer, there is a strong tendency towards showcasing Scandinavian bands of the extreme variety. Kicking off with a club-night centered around six different venues spread all over the city, the running order presents some difficult choices. Should we play it safe and consign ourselves to a single venue, guaranteeing a good spot and catching full sets? Or should we run across town between shows, catching the most interesting bands, but stressing out while seeing fragmented sets? We felt brave and decided on the latter.
Wednesday
After arriving at a completely packed venue for Norwegian Viking-favorites Cor Scorpii, our decision is already biting us in the ass. We cut our losses and head for Victoria Scene, arriving just in time for retro doom-rockers Devil (also Norwegian). Playing most of their debut album, Time to Repent, they also find time to premiere some new material. While their debut was lacking a certain energy that the live-arena should be able to provide, the band fail to elevate the already rickety material. The riffs are, admittedly, catchy as hell, but the frankly weak vocals and static presence of the singer are definitely doing the band a disservice. With a stronger set of pipes at the helm, Devil might yet become a proper force. As of now, their performance leaves much to be desired, though the new songs sound promising.
From the disappointing Devil-gig, we rush to the John Dee-venue in order to catch the ritualistic drone-coven of Altaar. While the band is around 20 minutes late on stage, the intervening time is well spent in the fumes of incense and burning candles, while a noise-track drones on in the background. The scene is set for an atmospheric experience. When the band finally comes on, they delve into the darkest depths with their sludgy, drawn out material. Trancelike, the show feels like one consistent body-high and we lose track of time. Altaar prove that they are capable of gargantuan performances, and this is definitely a show to be remembered by those lucky enough to witness it.
When the time comes to leave John Dee and head towards Helheim, the lingering fumes of the incense still has the mind reeling. Finding a seat by the bar, we recuperate while the progressive viking metal stalwarts do their thing. For a band that has always seemed to lurk in the shade of Enslaved, Helheim are still a solid live act. Plowing through material spanning their career, they bear the mark of real crowd-pleasers. This impression is solidified by a guest-appearance from Taake’s Hoest, as well as closing with a cover of “Ace of Spades”. After Helheim complete their set, it’s time for a few more beers before we withdraw to recharge for tomorrow’s debauchery.
Thursday
After spending most of the day recovering from the club night, the Maundy Thursday festivities are kicked off at Rockefeller scene. As opposed to the club night, the rest of the festival takes place only at this venue and the cellar venue John Dee, which means no overlapping bands and no long walks in the cold Oslo night. Representing northern Norway, melodic black metallers Iskald own the honor of opening the day. Draped in a blanket of frosty smoke and eerie blue lights, their melodic strain is a soft punch to cure a hangover. Unfortunately for the band, the show is plagued by a bad sound mix, with the drums almost completely drowning out the guitars. As we will see, this is going to be a recurring problem of the Rockefeller-venue throughout the festival. Iskald also see it fit to introduce a new, self-titled, song, and enlisting guest vocalist Normann (of the obscure band Skaur) to perfect the job. This tendency of Norwegian bands to intermingle on stage is a staple of Inferno, and helps keep the shows fresh and surprising. Despite the poor sound, Iskald put on a good show and get a hung-over crowd moving around with ease.
Due to social obligation and mingling, we end up forgetting the clock and miss the Swedish giants Dark Funeral. Luckily, the fuck-up is redeemed by next band Solstorm, who are bringing post-sludge to Inferno. Entering the stage with some soothing desert-vibes, they present one hell of a contrast to the blizzards of Iskald. What follows is a display of shameless-Neurosis and Isis-worship, with some damn heavy riffs and soaring crescendos. Solstorm obviously wear their influences on their sleeves, but they do a great job at it and absolutely crush the small stage of John Dee. This young band is definitely one to watch in the coming years.
Now the stage is set for the first headliner of the night, Norway’s great sons Taake. The anticipation is high, this is the kind of band Inferno was built around. As the theme from cult movie “Der Todesking” creeps in, the crowd explodes as not only Hoest takes the stage, but also Niklas Kvarforth of Shining and Jørn Inge Tunsberg of Hades Almighty. It’s the perfect blend of camaraderie and over-the-top performance that Inferno has made its trademark, and a great start to the show. As the concert goes on, this reviewer is disappointed that the material played is mostly drawn from the two last albums. However, Hoest is the quintessential black metal frontman, posing and grimacing without ever looking silly (infamous cock-pictures notwithstanding), simply giving 100% and being a joy to watch. When the show closes with a tribute to the late Trondr Nefas (Urgehal, Angst Skvadron, Kvist, Endezzma, Beastcraft, and so on), Endezzma-frontman Shax takes the stage, ending the gig with as much spectacle as which it started. The crowd is ecstatic, and the Inferno-folks have another fantastic gig to look back at.
Closing off the night, living legends Deicide are the first non-Norwegian band we decide to see this year. While Benton and company have a reputation for being no-shows, this time we get lucky and get a neck-shattering show of classic American death metal. The Deicide-boys are obviously veterans at their game, the show being tight as hell with a cavalcade of classics like “Dead by Dawn”, “Serpents of the Light”, and “They Are the Children of the Underworld”. Of course the way-past-drunk crowd are going nuts at this point, and as a result I expect many woke up with sore necks and bruised bodies the following morning. Nothing like some crushing death metal before scurrying off to various after-parties!
Friday
Still recovering after Taake and Deicide, Friday starts out a bit rough. However, bodily pain must be suppressed when Finnish devil-worshipers Behexen take the stage, at the satanic hour of 6:15 pm. Starting out with some unholy communion rites, the stage is all set for a very blasphemous Good Friday. After the consecration, the curse of bad sound once again befalls Rockefeller. While the band puts on one hell of a show, the pummeling bass-drum pretty much swallows every other sound in the room, and the frankly excellent songs on display are hardly done any justice. Very frustrating for a festival that prides itself on promoting black metal, then having major sound problems every time any band with a remotely raw sound are performing on the main stage.
Luckily, Witchcraft are another story entirely, and their 70s hard rock-flair proves perfectly suited to the sound-system of Rockefeller. Brought in as a last-minute replacement for countrymates Ghost, the band seems unfazed by the animosity a cancellation is bound to bring. Vocalist Magnus Pelander not only has a bloody great bluesy voice, he also seems to be having a blast on stage. While his flamboyant theatrics may seem downright silly in the usually somber-toned Inferno-venue, Witchcraft’s old-school psychedelia is a breath of fresh air in between the choking blast-beats. Mostly performing material from their excellent recent album Legend, with a few notable exceptions (“Wooden Cross” being a highlight), the crowd is taken by storm. Not bad for a band that would otherwise feel quite out-of-place at a festival like this!
Next band up are the Portuguese legends Moonspell. Bringing a female guest vocalist along for most of the songs, this is to be a legacy-show of sorts, spanning the band’s long career. While the band are obviously competent at what they do, their combination of operatic vocals and cheesy keyboards are more than a little overbearing. Fans of the band seem to be mesmerized by this headlining performance, but for those of us not so familiar with the material it all comes off as somewhat contrived. Numerous smokebreaks ensue.
Main headliners of the night are the American veterans Suffocation. I’ll be the first to admit that this particular brand of brutal death metal is not exactly my cup of tea, but you’ve got to acknowledge what a massive influence these guys have been. Like Deicide the night before, Suffocation are incredibly tight in a live atmosphere, and plow through the crowd with continuous eardrum-assaults. Vocalist Frank Mullen engages the crowd through a lot of between-song banter, amusingly coming off as a bit of a frat-boy despite being well into his 40s. The boys from New York put on a solid, albeit monotonous show that has the pit going crazy.
Saturday
Like Behexen on Friday, Baptism also play Finnish black metal, and they too suffer from Rockefeller’s bad sound. While Behexen got away with still retaining some atmosphere amid the unrelenting bass-drum, Baptism are more reliant on blackened roll-riffing and shredding solos, which are sadly barely audible at all. The tired crowd starts out rather sparse, but by the show’s end the venue is getting packed, which is a testament to the stage-presence of hooded main-man Lord Sarcofagian. Belting out blasphemies like it’s the end of the world, the band defies the sonic problems and still put on a stellar performance, swathed in what can only be described as a blood-red fog.
After Baptism walked off stage, we somehow ended up downstairs at John Dee, where the rather unknown American band Mos Generator were slated to play. Unfamiliar with the group, expectations were low and the crowd was very thin. What a surprise then, when the band went on to shred the shit out of every other band at the festival, bringing 70s hard rock to Inferno with a modern edge. Like Witchcraft, these bastards were out of their element with the typical Inferno crowd, but the abundance of energy and high-octane riffs were enough to get even the grimmest misanthrope tapping his feet. The three-piece proved that it ain’t gotta be black to be awesome in the Easter cold. Mos Generator were definitely the breakout surprise of the festival, hands down!
Missing most of Satyricon due to alcohol and socializing-related issues, we only catch their closing songs. There really isn’t much to be said about the duo of Frost and Satyr that hasn’t already been endlessly repeated. The sound is slick and the production values are good, but ultimately it all feels a bit too polished. It’s a good thing, then, that ultimate old-timers Saint Vitus are about to take the stage at John Dee. Starting out as Tyrant back in 1978, the mighty Vitus have been around for longer than most of the crowd have been alive, yet from the energy of Dave Chandler and company you’d hardly believe it. Playing songs spanning their career, from the recent “Let Them Fall”, to ultimate doom-anthem “Born Too Late”, they prove over and over that the old are still the best. It might be a small travesty that you can barely hear Wino’s snarls, yet the crowd is more than happy to supply the lyrics themselves. After 55-year old Chandler rushes into the crowd to get a small pit going, the only thing better to top off the festival would be an encore…and of course we get one. As Wino breaks into “Dying Inside”, the past days flash by: “Every time I wake up sick, I say never again / Then opportunity knocks and I’m wasted my friend”. Amen!
As the last beers are being emptied, necks are aching and feet are bleeding. We are left with a general consensus; while the line-up could have been better, Inferno never fails to entertain, bringing something for everyone. Whether you prefer standing cross-armed and scowling to buzz-saw guitars, throwing yourself headfirst into the pit, or just sitting at the bar meeting new and old acquaintances, Inferno’s got you covered. Besides the lackluster mix haunting the main venue, it’s hard to imagine why some choose skiing and chocolate over four crazy days of extreme music and extreme drinking. See you next year!
