(Below you’ll find Daniel Barkasi’s extensive report on the first day of Fortress Festival 2026 in England, accompanied by his great own photos. His report on Day Two lies ahead.)
Intro:
When one has an incredible experience, it’s only natural to chase that down to re-experience it again. My experience at Fortress Festival last year without doubt qualifies – a festival that was built from the ground up to provide something unique, and now in its fourth iteration, Fortress has become a destination for many that they simply can’t miss. Yours truly obviously can be tossed into that categorization, as here we are, ready for our second helping of black metal insanity.
With this mind-boggling lineup, how could we not come back?
This go-around, planning the logistics felt much easier, other than the increased flight cost. Despite that, the meticulous planning from last time certainly gave a modicum of experience to reference, though no festival and all of the logistics therein will ever be exactly the same. For example, the lovely hotel we booked last year wasn’t available for all days, so we had to go with something different. But, new experiences, right?
The Journey
Since moving from the stage of the infamous Florida Man to the remote woods of West Virginia, the flight path actually is quite simplified. This time, we were able to book direct flights in both directions, without having to do a connection – or unlike last time, book on two different carriers due to price and hope to not have a massive delay that kiboshed my clever plan.
That part worked out well. However, when needing to anticipate how much time one will need to catch a four-hour-plus train ride after said flight, the answer will never be definitive. I gave myself a 3-½ hour timeframe from anticipated arrival at LHR, to take the Heathrow Express (highly recommended, and book in advance to save significant coin) and the London Underground to King’s Cross station, where a ton of the more long-distance trains were available, which typically takes about 40 minutes or so in total. You’d think that’s enough, right?
Well, thankfully, it was, but only by a razor-thin margin this time.
First, the flight was delayed by about an hour, which these days is commonplace. The landing was further delayed due to an emergency on another flight that prioritized their landing before ours (totally sensible, and I hope everything turned out ok). Once we did land, there were buses to take passengers to the international terminal. This took much longer than reasonable, which put me on a tight clock. Like Jerry said on Seinfeld, but substitute train for plane:
Hauling ass through Paddington station wasn’t on my bingo card, but we can scratch that off the list. Last time, I got a ride to Scarborough, so this was also the first time doing the train journey in this direction. But, with plenty of dumb luck I’m certain, we made it in time to catch that LNER train to York, and then on to Scarborough. I read that others weren’t so lucky, and somebody even got pickpocketed at King’s Cross, which is just awful. My paranoia of something like that occurring drives my need to overdo it in taking precautions, but still, such a circumstance shouldn’t happen. The Fortress organizers went above and beyond to help this person out, so kudos to them for stepping up.
Sadly, there were also train delays for the connection to Scarborough, which put me behind on even considering making the pre-fest show with Wode, Andracca, and Blood Countess, as the strict 150-person capacity simply wasn’t in my favor. Luckily, I was able to get credentials sorted, do a festival merch pickup, get settled at the hotel, and grab dinner with some truly awesome people. Thanks for putting up with my blathering about our farm filled with critters!
Speaking of the hotel, we stayed at the Grand Scarborough Hotel, which is a gorgeous building that overlooks the beachfront and the venue, which is still the Scarborough Spa. The walk to and from is picturesque while also being incredibly straightforward, making the logistical factor a breeze. The room itself is basic and barebones, which is what I expected, and I had way more space than expected. Had no idea I’d have three beds, but hey, it gave some room to spread out a bit. Some reviews of the hotel aren’t so kind, but we didn’t see any of that, thank goodness.
Collapsing onto the relatively stiff mattress was in order, and we’d need to rest up – the first day beckons.
Saturday, Day 1
It was a gorgeous morning, and the weather in Scarborough for this entire weekend ended up being all that could be hoped for. A good night of sleep was much needed, and while the jet lag hit me somewhat, I ended up getting plenty of rest, and a luxurious breakfast of leftover pizza got me ready to go. We headed down to the Spa a little after 10am or so. The stroll is plenty gorgeous, especially on a clear day such as this. Even though doors were at 11, we wanted to get the lay of the land, say hello to a few folks, and get prepared for the long grind ahead.
The pedestrian bridge by the hotel, which leads directly to the Scarborough Spa
The town of Scarborough, with the Grand Hotel on the left and the castle way off to the right*
Groza
Kicking off the day on the main stage was Groza and their direct, powerful form of post-black metal. Having seen them once on a bill with Panzerfaust back home, we knew what they’re capable of, and we were looking forward to what they could bring to Fortress. Immediately recognizable was an upgrade to the overall main stage presentation, with new vertical digital screens adorning each side of the stage in addition to the large one serving as the backdrop, all showcasing the incredible artwork created for the festival, while also allowing bands to utilize them for added effect. Groza took advantage, with their logo and imagery morphing through their performance to fit each track.
Opening a festival such as this certainly is a difficult request, needing to immediately set the tone for the weekend. To no surprise of this observer, they were more than up for the task. Adorned in hoods and coordinated black leather vests, they had the visual to match their fiery, contentious musical offerings.
As such, Groza wasted no time pummeling the eager crowd with the opener of their latest Nadir in “Asbest.” Vocalist/bassist P.G. is an intimidating and powerful presence, and he captivated the packed room from the front to the very back almost instantaneously; the hooded foursome shook the hall by way of their vicious affront.
“Ouroboros” followed, harkening from their debut Unified in Void, giving a melodic turn that landed exceedingly well. Not to leave out The Redemptive End, the anthemic title track was a choice entry that increased the crowd’s engagement even further.
Groza’s music is undeniably aggressive, as previoiusly established, but also esoteric and emotive, with Mgła being an obvious comparison. Crucially, they possess enough of their own flavor that comes out in the details, most notably with a balanced dosage of post-black seeping through, especially on their latest and most complete effort, Nadir. “Equal. Silent. Cold.” embodies their best selves, translating to their live show seamlessly, melding the band’s post-black sensibilities without jettisoning the all-important antagonism.
Their momentum built stirringly as they moved forward, much to the excitement of the very full room. Their ability to include more ethereal material while maintaining their powerful, combative stance was key to not losing steam, and they roared through their time with much aplomb.
The last piece “Daffodils” – a heartfelt dedication to their fallen bassist Mike, who sadly passed away in 2023 – invoked a highly impassioned and powerful finale that moved the crowd with blunt force and deft skill. Just like on record, Groza continue to tighten their abilities as they move forward, and we urge them to keep traversing this path, as it has paid valuable dividends.
Black Cilice
The Ocean Room’s queue was lengthy, and with good cause – the mysterious Black Cilice was kicking off affairs in that locale, having been one of the most talked about bands in the lead-up. Upon entering, a dense fog permeated the air – a fitting atmosphere for these proprietors of raw black metal.
The photo policy was a bit different this year for this room, with access to the photo pit reserved for house photographers, and with the dense fog, clear pictures for this set (as you can plainly see) were a tad challenging. Hell, seeing the band was near impossible from most vantage points. Reminds me of a Worm show, and if anyone reading this has seen them, you know what we mean. No excuses, however – sorry for the lousy visuals for this one!
This set in particular was wild, since the thick clouds filled the entire room to the point where the cloaked, shadowy figures appeared through the mist, ultimately cultivating a mystical atmosphere which worked for what they were attempting to portray. Word has it, the band specifically requested as much fog as they could get, and they certainly got their wish.
In such an environment, the sound was going to make or break the show, as the visuals weren’t going to carry them fully. That crucial element, thankfully, was searing and full of malice. Additionally, the feeling of being in the room was that of being part of an occult ritual of sorts; the guitars and drums combined to invoke an overwhelming wall of sounds, with the vocals having a deep, reverberating echo, adding further to the chilling aura. From the chatter, some folks thought the fog level was a bit much, but many repeated the consensus of it manifesting the desired cryptic effect.
Performance-wise, Black Cilice was dialed-in, ominously stomping through their allotted 45 minutes. Their records are a mainly low-fi experience, but not to the point where it’s overdone and unlistenable, whereas in the flesh, they maintain that overall sonic approach, but with an added robustness that played to their advantage. This is music that should be felt, and they made sure that was achieved.
Black Cilice opened the Ocean Room in an unsettling manner, giving the onlookers a taste of the many varieties of black metal that were upcoming. A rare opportunity, as well, as we don’t believe they play a whole lot of shows, and it was one we’re glad we took, as the Portuguese plied their wares in the most appropriate of ways.
Mesarthim
The spacey atmospheric black metal stylings of Mesarthim were a major curiosity for yours truly. Their smooth combination of electronics and blackened tones is an intriguing, singular listen, and after hearing plenty about their rare live presentations, we weren’t about to miss these unnamed Australian cosmic black metal purveyors.
The visual aspect is indeed a large portion of Mesarthim’s allure. Their unidentified vocalist sports a light-up mask depicting a spinning vortex, while other members are adorned with fluorescent paint and hoods. Fitting symbolism for their space-aged sonic profile.
“Osteopenia” from their seminal debut Isolate served us a grandiose start, swathed with thick keyboards and the right measure of coarseness via moody guitar rhythms and hair-raising screams provided by that mysterious spiral of madness. A record that stands up ten years later, and selecting a top cut was a prudent decision.
An element that Mesarthim executes particularly well is conjuring an overwhelming, expansive tonality that more than does justice to their ambient, otherworldly soundscapes. Music such as this walks a fine line between memorability and taking things too much in a strange direction, and to their credit, they walk it with the finesse of a tightrope-walking expert.
The ambitious entry “The Great Filter” was a pleasant surprise, with Mesarthim weaving through this massive production with poise and precision, putting on a visual and audio extravaganza that the engaged crowd won’t soon forget.
Acts that aren’t easy to see are what makes a festival, and Mesarthim is one of many on this billing that undoubtedly delivered on what was expected, and then some. We hope to take in these Aussies again in the future.
Aeon Winds
A band which we’ve enjoyed from afar is Slovakian outfit Aeon Winds. The vision of vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Svarthen, the project has been crafting bombastic black metal that investigates Slovak lore amongst their subjects, bringing plenty of cultural significance to the mix. To be fair, they’re not a band we go back to regularly, but also one that hasn’t steered us askew.
We anticipated a positive outcome from Aeon Winds, and on that notion, they certainly delivered, with energy to burn and a level of furor that exceeded what was expected. An ingrained purpose was obvious to all, adding significant weight their songs.
Svarthen’s passion is worn on his sleeve, and that important factor brings an authenticity to Aeon Winds that makes me appreciate the music more than before witnessing their live presentation. The rest of the band met his spirit, putting forward a vibrant-yet-frenzied performance that gave the music plenty of life, which the enthused crowd was absolutely there for.
As an added bonus, an appearance from Midnight Odyssey’s Dis Pater added a cool, exclusive touch – he’s collaborated with the band frequently over the years. The kind of special instance that a festival such as this can often provide and ultimately deliver in spades.
What we witnessed was definitely worth our time, and we’d gladly take in another set if presented the opportunity. Aeon Winds fills a specific niche, and they do so with craft and vehemence. An example of the keen ability of Fortress to show the many purviews of the genre via high-quality acts that are both a challenge to see and are made for this arena.
Ossaert
Ossaert is the project of P., aka Peter Myatezhnik, who also has been a part of Dödsrit since 2025 (who played a fantastic show at Fortress last year) and Dodswens since 2024. The strictly one-time-only nature of their single live appearance at Roadburn 2023 seemed very much a closed book, due to the stated “burden of grief that this music carries” being too much to repeat in person at that time. We don’t know what Gary did to convince them to sign up for this second and exclusive showing, but bravo – that effort goes to show how special Fortress has become in such a short period of time.
Playing a visceral yet hypnotic sort of black metal, opener “De geest en de Vervoering” from 2021’s Pelgrimsoord proved to be an apt selection to allure the eager crowd; off-putting organs setting the table before drowning the hapless audience with a wave of cutting, blistering affronts.
Most notable is the infectiously untamed zeal put forth, like a magnetism making one unable to look away. The extreme scarcity of the performance absolutely added to the occasion, but their application and fury were that of a band who had played hundreds of shows, not just on their second.
Continuing with another track from their second full-length in “De dag en de Verschijning,” the groove injected by the somewhat bouncy bass line can be deceiving, as psychedelic guitar leads enter the fray, spinning an alluring yarn. The song soon delves into darker, more violent depths, which is where the proceedings fully immersed this onlooker, traversing through a variety of gnarled, engaging twists throughout.
Ambient pieces were utilized as interludes to set up subsequent bludgeonings; to some, they may have been a little indulgent, but to these ears, they served the feel that Ossaert was after quite well, adding an ear for theatrics to the menace that was the rest of their set.
Ossaert is P.’s most personal creative endeavor. His electric and moving performance on this day laid that out for all to embrace. The supporting cast was also excellent – the drums were precise and explosive, and the bass was audible and thumping, giving Ossaert the punch that puts these songs and their live interpretation over the top. The crowd lapped up every morsel, and with good reason. A standout of this first day.
Midnight Odyssey
The eclectic talents of Dis Pater are undeniable. He’s contributed to a lot of notable bands and releases – Cattle Decapitation’s Death Atlas and Terrasite, for instance – and his main project, Midnight Odyssey, is a cornerstone of the ambient black metal genre.
We’ve spoken about plenty of rare appearances at this festival, and this can be counted as yet another. This isn’t a project that appears in person often, and if a fan of the astrologically charged, ethereal compositions that Dis Pater consistently puts out, this was another that cannot be skipped.
My relationship with ambient music is somewhat contentious, at least in a live setting. There are acts who make solid music, but fall short when performing live, usually down to either the mood of the music or backing tracks instead of live musicians leaving a barren, lifeless affair. The biggest question that we had was Midnight Odyssey’s lack of a drummer, and to be fair, there was a particular lack of dynamics. It wasn’t bad, but it had an impact.
There was also a mishap where a click track was audible to the audience, when it very obviously was not intended. A minor snafu that the band joked about post-set; it was cool to see them have such a light-hearted and humorous response. They recovered in kind and played a set that many were very much enchanted by.
Despite the mentioned issues, what we saw was very good – Dis Pater has an obvious connection with the audience, and those in attendance were taken aback by this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Their sound was lush and full, helping soothe the now incredibly sweaty Ocean Room. At that point, I wish I’d had a hammock so I could kick back and take in Midnight Odyssey’s swirling soundscapes in maximum comfort!
Professionally working through the technical issues, what we saw of Midnight Odyssey (we weren’t able to stay for the entire set) was well worth catching. As previously stated, they don’t exactly play out often, so who knows if another chance will come in the future, though if one arose, we’d absolutely take it.
Akercocke
A band infamous for white shirts and ties, cunningly fierce black/death metal, and unabashed Satanic themes, Ackercocke has been an elusive one to catch. Sadly and somewhat embarrassingly, the opportunity hasn’t presented itself to me to see them perform, despite being a huge admirer of their one-of-a-kind discography, as well as several of the members’ other projects (The Antichrist Imperium especially). When it was announced that the band would play Fortress, it was another reason that we had to be there, but the fact that they’d be playing Choronzon in its entirety felt almost too good to be true.
Not long before the festival, the band announced that they’d be bringing a limited run of the famous Choronzon shirt that was designed by drummer David Gray. We made sure to acquire one of these as soon as we saw them on sale, of course. With merch in hand, our hope was that they’d possess the same fire in the belly they had when this landmark record dropped, and maybe bring back the old dress code for the occasion.
We got both.
Adorning their classic snappy attire, the band entered the stage with devilish purpose. Displaying the origin video for the intro of opening track “Praise the Name of Satan” – the Hammer House of Horror episode Guardian of the Abyss – deliciously set the tone. Keyboardist Sam Loynes raised his hand to give the signal to go, with the band erupting like a long-dormant volcano. Magma was spewed everywhere as Jason Mendonça spit out those trademark unearthly screams and snarls, in which we were fully immersed. The pure explosiveness of the entire band put every attendee on notice – they were about to witness something special.
The riff-forward, dizzying monstrosity “Leviathan” is a creepy entry, and it was played with pinpoint precision at the Spa. Though I’m not sure as to the reason for Paul Scanlan’s absence, live guitarist Quinton Lucion was an absolute maniac on stage – his presence was off the scale, bringing plenty of enthusiasm to an already bombastic lineup.
From the overt uneasiness of “Bathykolpian Avatar” to the punishing “Scapegoat,” and everything in between, the band was playing like they had something to prove. Drummer David Gray is a master of his craft, underrated and ever so crucial to all bands he’s a part of. He battered the skins like a man possessed, which fits considering the record being presented.
The maniacal “Son of the Morning” was dedicated to Federico Benini, their ex-bassist who tragically passed away a few weeks prior. He was an enormous talent who was part of many top-tier acts, and the song was a fitting tribute to their fallen friend.
One of the most impressive aspects of Akercocke on this night was their seemingly limitless moxie and potency. Several stated that this was the best they’ve seen the band in a while, and with that sentiment, I’m especially ecstatic to have been able to witness this monumental return to the stage.
As if playing what is, in my view at least, their best record live wasn’t enough, they added the proverbial cherry on top by playing “Verdelet” from Words That Go Unspoken, Deeds That Go Undone. Immense, punishing, and whatever other descriptive word we can toss out – getting this song as the finale wasn’t expected, but oh so welcomed. We literally couldn’t ask for anything more – Akercocke gave everything, and it’s a memory that’ll be forever burned into my brain.
Ironically, not long after the festival concluded, it was announced that Akercocke will be appearing at Maryland Deathfest in 2027… to play Choronzon in full. Bring on round two.
Totenwache
Coming down to earth from the high that was Akercocke, whoever was following had a tall task. That would be Totenwache, the German throwback who have some similarities to Délétère, but are more bought into that straight back-to-the-’90s blackened feel.
The trio came prepared, supporting a new album only released a couple of months prior in Der Thron der Uralten, which was listened to several times in preparation for the fest, and we very much dug what they were slinging. With that, we came in excited for what was a difficult slot.
Entering with a cold and precise attack, the band nailed the details via tracks such as “Der Thron der Uralten” and “Monolith der Finsternis” – both from their latest LP. Vocalist/bassist Animatrum has a confident poise that translates into the band’s execution, with his croaks and screams hitting the mark, whilst guitarist Host of Cinder blazed forth with frigid, steely tremolos to drive the band’s grim tones and occasional melodic turns.
Also dipping into their debut full-length Der schwarze Hort, “Urteil: Niedergang” especially hit the spot, boasting sharp leads and slick drum work courtesy of Valfor. The band have a medieval “storm the castle” sort of vibe, but don’t take it to the point of overt cheesiness – a restraint that’s most appreciated by this fellow.
All-in-all, a fine example of classic black metal performed with passion and vibrant riffs. What’s not to like? Thinking about it now, a palate cleanse of sorts after the mania that was Akercocke, and the surreal madness that was to come.
Dødheimsgard
Considering their wholly singular stylings, we had no clue as to what to expect from Dødheimsgard, except the unexpected, of course. Charismatic creator and now frontman Vicotnik’s level of imagination and creativity is reached by few, and with a special run through of their most recent tapestry Black Medium Current on the agenda, our curiosity was running wild.
Entering the stage with a veil and a fistful of incense, Vicotnik immediately set a transcendent mood. Never one to shy away from the abstract of the grandiose, the reflective-yet-pulsating “Et smelter” fully engaged the curious and excited crowd. The spectacle and capturing of the complex, layered soundscapes present on Black Medium Current was an inspiring scene.
A near sensory overload was a constant as the album progressed. The solemnity of “Tankespinnerens smerte” is entrancing, and the infectious space-jazz fusion of “Interstellar Nexus” transitioning to the lounge-esque, trippy “It Does Not Follow” is outright intoxicating. The presentation at hand allows an already stellar achievement of a record to expand to new dimensions, comparable to an awakening of an undiscovered, uncomfortable area of your consciousness. Not to get too philosophical, but this was a true experience that has no real equal.
“Halow” is another personal favorite, itself being somewhat mournful in feel while also being punchy and stern in moments. A dazzling piece that again was presented in a thoughtful, inspiring way.
What a cast Vicotnik has assembled to make his vision come to life. Guitarist Tommy Thunberg has proven a phenomenal addition, providing poise and laser focus. The backing singers, violinist, etc., the massive drum work – each plays a pivotal role in bringing this record to life.
Odd, quirky, and absolutely themselves. A visual and audible extravaganza that draws one into their clutches and dazzles you with its siren charms. To see Dødheimsgard is to be a part of Dødheimsgard, at least for an hour or so. To see an album that will go down in history as a signature achievement was utterly sublime. Another that was worth the trip alone.
Whoredom Rife
From artful, mind-bending pageantry to pure, filthy anger and abhorrence, it was time for the mighty Whoredom Rife. George Costanza would call this the opposite to what we had seen from their fellow countrymates. This is a band that we’ve admired since their self-titled debut EP in 2016, and now a decade later, we finally get the opportunity to see them live. That circumstance is a theme for Fortress, both this year and last. As somone based in the US, bands who simply don’t come here are a huge draw, and these Norwegians were one of the main reasons lineup-wise that we made the trek.
We also knew that they’d be an attractive band for most attending, so we got into the Ocean Room as quickly as we could to make sure we could get a halfway decent sightline. Fortress is a mostly chill and tame crowd, but Whoredom Rife are one of those black metal bands known to inspire some crowd movement, so also protecting the ole camera was also a consideration.
Entering to the tune of “Curse of the Moon” from Winds of Wrath is just the ferocious, blood-thirsty track to get proceedings moving figuratively and literally. The excitable audience responded in turn, creating a cyclone of bodies and whipping hair. Even at this late hour, there was enough piss and vinegar left to get a pit going, with the right band to incite it. Whoredom Rife are so vehemently pissed-off and in-your-face that it’s difficult to resist. Alas, with camera in hand and long past mosh retirement, we refrained, but also enjoyed watching the chaos unfold.
A fellow photographer in the audience warned me that vocalist K.R. has a historically contentious relationship with microphone stands – in other words, watch for a spear-like projectile if the mood strikes right. He didn’t go quite that far, but the mic stand certainly felt his wrath a time or two. The unfettered rage and hostility was brought to a fever pitch as the band tore through heavy hitters such as the maniacal “Cursing the Storm to Come” from Dommedagskvad and the title track from their most recent incursion, “Den vrede makt.”
Creative mastermind V. Einride cleaved all in his path with noxious riffs and nasty, shearing lead work that every soul in that room felt in their bones. Whoredom Rife’s overall sound was as it needs to be – coarse, filthy, dense, and punishing. Many black metal bands both young and established can learn plenty from their no nonsense approach to all aspects of their brutish offerings.
Somehow, the crowd maintained their fervent energy. Personally, my dogs were barking, and it was an absolute sweatbox of humanity in that room. That said, we were hooked and couldn’t muster pulling away, despite the weight of the upcoming main stage headliner.
Whoredom Rife closed the Ocean Room for a reason. Being amongst the most pestilent, impetuous black metal bands going, and despite possessing enough sheer pedigree to have nothing to prove, they played like they needed to win over every set of ears. That’s a difference-maker between the pretenders and the upper echelon. A masterclass on how to perform defiant, explosive black metal.
Old Man’s Child
You don’t often see the same band twice within less than a week. Certainly not one such as Old Man’s Child. That’s the lucky circumstance that we experienced, however, and the setting difference couldn’t be more drastic. At MDF, their set was outside during a torrential downpour, or Wet Man’s Child, if you will. Here, they’re headlining the thankfully indoor main room, so for this evening, they’ll be known as Dry Man’s Child. Hey, you should expect this brand of low-level pun from this guy.
Since departing Dimmu Borgir, Galder has been full steam ahead with his re-formed band. His ability as a frontman has been honed, asserting a firm grasp on how to captivate every set of eyes present. Their aforementioned show in the rain was exciting, being the first opportunity to see them in the corpse-painted flesh. Here, we know to expect at minimum a great show by proxy, and we got a shining example of how to execute black metal.
A roaring crowd greeted Galder and company, as the band settled in to open with the whimsical-yet-steely “Towards Eternity” from their 1998 record Ill-Natured Spiritual Invasion. The word epic is a blatantly overused term in metal, but it’s an apt description here – Old Man’s Child were over the top and big. The obvious comparisons between Galder’s other now former band are bound to come up, but remember, he was at it with this project long before his stint over there.
Going for the throat with “King of the Dark Ages” was a wise choice, building momentum towards frigid second-wave Norwegian black metal that they often do so well. When they let loose and let the guitars do the talking, Old Man’s Child knows how to kick their sound into the next gear.
Galder’s embrace of being a top-level frontman was evident by his complete control of the audience, as well as his banter. He spoke of the uniqueness of the festival and the castle just up the street before blasting into the medieval-sounding “Hominis Nocturna” to the delight of all.
Old Man’s Child bleeds that ’90s wild, often cheesy, but utterly infectious symphonic black metal sound, but they also know how to get down to downright nastiness. They did so while invoking that Pagan spirit that the band so well embrace by way of the roaring “Doommaker” and “Soul Possessed” from The Pagan Prosperity; my personal favorite OMC record, so it was cool to hear it being well represented here at Fortress.
Not to be overlooked, Galder has assembled a fine group for his live lineup, consisting of the rhythm section of drummer Tjodalv and bassist Elvorn from doomsters Abyssic, along with Insidious Disease guitarist Cyrus. Furthermore, all three are members of Susperia, so there’s plenty of familiarity between these members, and their chemistry shows.
Galder teased that they’ll be playing a “new” song, at least for them, by way of “Twilight Damnation” – which is about 16-years-old at this point. A song that was given its live debut at Maryland Deathfest just under a week prior, but it was nice to hear it without getting drenched by nature.
The whole set went by in a flash, with other standouts such as “God of Impiety” leaving an impression, and the finale “The Millennium King” to leaving the exhausted attendees foaming at the mouth for more, despite the long day of tiring musical bliss.
Seeing Old Man’s Child twice in such a short duration was incredibly cool, and not something we’re likely to be able to claim ever again, so the moment was surely not lost on me.
After saying goodbye to a few folks, it was time to make the walk back to the hotel, which feels so much longer at the end of the day than it does at the beginning. We were a sweaty mess, so time to shower and get as much sleep as possible, for day two awaits, and it’s a crazy busy one. You’ll hear all about it soon enough!
Links:
https://www.fortressfestival.co.uk/
https://www.facebook.com/fortressfestival/
https://www.instagram.com/reaperagencyuk