On the first day of Brutal Assault, I was watching a band perform from the “VIP” section that overlooked the grounds of the two main stages when a guy next to me set his beer down. He said something like, “My beer is here, so don’t knock it over!” Then he said, “You know, beer is like women. One day it’s here and the next day it’s gone. I should know – I’m divorced.” He then asked me where I’m from.

“The United States,” I responded.
He said, “You’re not Republican, are you?”
I laughed and said, “No.”

Come to find out that this guy was from Croatia and we got into a conversation about Croatia and Croatian politics. It’s these types of interactions in which I’m put in awe of how much metal is a unifying force that can bring people from all over the world together. I had this feeling again and again over the course of attending all three metal festivals as I met people from Italy, Peru, Chile, France, Germany, and elsewhere.

People from all over the world, and especially Europe, gathered in Jaromer, Czech Republic for another iteration of Brutal Assault. While Obscene Extreme takes place on the grounds of a battlefield, Brutal Assault takes place within a fucking fortress. On top of the walls of the fortress, the vegetation is overgrown. Every once in a while, I could spot sheep grazing on top of the walls. I once saw one of the stagehands (who had been a security guard at Obscene Extreme) running on top of the wall. I looked behind him to see a flock of sheep running after him. I thought for a second that the stagehand was being jocular, but once he frantically jumped over a fence, ensuring his safe harbor from the oncoming horde, I knew immediately that he had been sincerely scared for his personal safety. I wish I could use this as some kind of metaphor for Brutal Assault, but, nah – it was just really funny.

The vast grounds of the fortress ensured that Brutal Assault could be several times larger than the other two festivals I attended this summer (Obscene Extreme and Beyond the Gates) in terms of the number of bands, attendees, staff, stages, vendors, etc. And, indeed it was. After attending all three festivals this summer, I feel as though there is just something that is lost when festivals are as large as Brutal Assault. Ultimately, I think it’s just different aspects or degrees of intimacy. Obscene Extreme felt very communal, in part because of the anarchist and leftist politics represented by organizers, the bands, and seemingly most of the fans. Additionally, the reputation that Obscene Extreme as being a “freak-friendly” festival felt like it was more open and accepting. With Beyond the Gates, it was not just a shared love of black metal but also the fact that the musicians were interacting with the fans quite a lot, as I mentioned in the post about that festival. But Brutal Assault was just too large for any of that. At the same time, it wasn’t too large to not be enjoyable. But it does make me wary about attending festivals any larger than Brutal Assault, like Wacken or Hell Fest.

The large number of well-known and high-quality acts meant that I faced some tough choices. For one, Pallbearer was scheduled to play Sorrow and Extinction all the way through at the same time that At The Gates was scheduled to play Slaughter of the Soul all the way through. Considering that I have seen Pallbearer perform before and had never seen At The Gates play (and I’ve been listening to them for around 20 years), you can be damn sure which band I chose. Though I did stay long enough to see Pallbearer play “Foreigner”. Another hard choice was between Asphyx and Conjurer. I like Asphyx alright but Conjurer‘s new album Páthos is easily one of my favorites of 2022 thus far, so I elected to see the latter. Bloodbath or Misery Index? C’mon, I have a much higher chance of seeing Misery Index in the future, being that they are from the US. What I’m trying to illustrate here is that there were a lot of excellent bands, and now, just a few months later, I almost forget that I saw some of the bands that I did. A lot of it was just a blur.

But there were certainly bands that stood out from the blur. After making yet another tough choice to see Hangman’s Chair over Dark Funeral, I knew I had made the right decision within the first few minutes of the former’s performance. Hangman Chair was one of my favorite discoveries of the last few years with the masterful gothic doom of their 2018 effort Banlieue triste and the equally as good A Loner from this year. Three-quarters of the band’s set were culled from the latter. The relative simplicity of their down-tuned dirges allowed their aural force to concentrate as a pounding inside my chest. But their songs about depression, drug abuse, and general hopelessness also strike the same parts. The general drudgery of their songs contrasted with the onstage presence of guitarist Julien Rour Chanut and bassist Clément Hanvic. They seemed to be playing for a hardcore band as stomped their feet and held out their arms open as if to ask, “What the fuck do you want?” Well, I for one certainly got what I wanted out of their performance.

Although I had seen them twice before, seeing Melt-Banana again was a personal highlight for me. And not necessarily just because I like their music. What was almost equally as entertaining was seeing the confused expressions on the faces of audience members unfamiliar with Melt-Banana and their particular brand of chaotic noise punk. By far the best response was that of one of the security guards in front of the stage. I imagine the zaniness of the music in addition to the high-pitched chirps of Yasuko were what started it, but he was barely keeping himself from laughing. I thought he was going to completely start cracking up after Yasuko announced that they would play nine short songs consecutively. Each song was under a minute (some well under a minute) and after each song, Yasuko would say, “Thank you! Next song is called…” in her typical high-pitched voice. Even I was just dying laughing with tears rolling down my cheeks, but this security guard’s face was turning red from keeping himself from laughing.

Sweden’s God Mother is a band I’ve listened to since first hearing 2015’s Maktbehov. They’ve been fairly quiet for the last few years until the release of this year’s excellent Obeveklig EP. Vocalist Sebastian Campbell was clearly disappointed in the crowd’s energy at the beginning of the performance, and he mentioned as much. But then he launched himself into the crowd with microphone in hand as he was held aloft by audience members and eventually transported to the mosh pit where a game of limbo started. Needless to say, this put the crowd into a circle pit frenzy. He made his way back to the stage at some point with a broken microphone that he was trying to fix. He told the crowd that his mom had tried to dissuade him from continuing the band, and at the end of the band’s set, he was holding back tears as the crowd cheered and he exited the stage with the band. It was the most touching moment of the entire festival.

It started to rain during the early evening of the last day. Certainly not ideal. There came a point when there were not any bands that I just had to see, so I decided to see Arcturus as I presumed that their performances are rare occurrences. It was…an odd experience to say the least. During Arcturus‘ set, there was a woman who was clearly on some love drugs. She was fluttering from one guy to the next and, from what I could gather, asking them to use their phones since every guy took out his phone once she started talking to them. One guy seemed to reject her but then she just started making out with another guy after he got his phone out…and this clearly made the guy uncomfortable. Her touchy-feely body language and blissful facial expressions couldn’t seem to win anyone over. In addition to this scene, ICS Vortex seemed to be having a bad night. Not only was his singing off, but he was cursing and complaining during his onstage banter between songs. Considering the fact that he was slurring his words and drinking on stage, it seemed more than likely his performance was hampered by the hooch.

By late Sunday night, I was exhausted. I was watching Mayhem play for the second time in two weeks, but I was sitting down watching them on TV somewhere inside the fortress surrounded by other attendees whose baggy eyes and vacant stares indicated that they were as bone-weary as I was. It was raining outside and I was nodding off in my chair. I knew I had to stay awake for Oranssi Pazuzu, the last band of the night and of the festival, but it was certainly a struggle. Oranssi Pazuzu has been another one of my favorite bands of the last few years, with their 2016 effort Värähtelijä being my second favorite of that year and their 2020 effort Mestarin kynsi being my number one album of that year. Their unique mix of psychedelic rock, krautrock, and black metal sound like no one else. The lights were low as I stood at the front of the stage. Then, the foreboding, slightly nauseating synths from “Ilmestys” started to emanate from the speakers as the members of the band came out but appeared as nothing but shadows from the backlit pulsating lights. There was no better performance to be under the influence of psychedelics than Oranssi Pazuzu‘s. The repetitive odd-metered guitar lines and hypnotic drumming patterns lulled the audience before being punctuated by loud bursts of psychedelic freakouts. During these freakouts, guitarist Niko Lehdontie flailed violently about the stage as if he were a video recording played in reverse. His hair seemed to fling in the opposite direction his body was moving in an inhuman fashion, as if he were possessed by a drug-fueled demon as bassist and vocalist Toni Hietamäki croaked incantations as he held out his hand in a variety of contortions as if attempting to wrestle the demon out not of Niko but of the audience. Another incredible performance at Brutal Assault.

There were so many other memorable performances, it’s difficult to choose which ones to highlight:

• Alcest performing the ethereal mix of post-black metal and shoegaze as the sun was setting
• Seeing Voivod for the first time and deriving joy not only from the music but also from seeing how much fun they were having on stage
• Watching Frontierer‘s guitarist Dan Stevenson climb the rafters as I was jumping up and down in front of the stage like a teenaged pop-punk fan
• Witnessing Ad Nauseam, bathed in blood-red lighting, play an instrumental set in the rain since guitarist Andrea Petucco’s vocals were shot from being ill

One thing I wrote in a group chat with some friends back home about being at these metal festivals is that I often felt much more “present” than I had in a while. Sure, I was often planning my day by looking at the schedule of bands and thereby deciding what stages to go to and when. But while attending the performances, I was often totally in the moment. Granted, it’s easy to be in the present when you have grown men yelling at you and the rest of the band is playing at a decibel level that practically guarantees hearing damage. Nonetheless, I credit these festivals with helping me come down and recenter myself after leaving a work and living situation that I was no longer happy with. Attending these metal festivals also renewed my faith in metal and made me feel nearly the same amount of excitement I had for the genre when I first started listening as a teenager. It felt like such a gift to my teenage self to be able to attend these festivals. I only hope that I’ll be able to attend more in the future!