July 2011
Neskaupstaður, Iceland
A peaceful village alongside a beautifully tranquil fjord
is the somewhat unlikely setting for some musical brutality; it’s fair to say
that despite a very varied bill this three day indoor festival is not a sedate
affair. Despite the presence of a few very classy international acts, the real
charm of Eistnaflug is that it serves as a showcase for the surprisingly
vibrant Icelandic rock and metal scene.
Iceland isn’t all that far away, but in terms of getting
there it feels a bit remote; for me the journey was from Fife to Edinburgh,
from there flying to Gatwick, from Gatwick to Reykjavik, then from the city
centre by bus to a smaller airfield, where, there was another flight to the other
side of the island. Then a bus journey to Neskaupstaður; the plus side of all this is of course that Iceland is
stunningly beautiful.
Having missed most of day one (the buzz being that Atrum
and Hamferð were among the
highlights), the festival atmosphere is immediately established by the
rapturous welcome for local heroes Sólstafir. With their fourth album about to
be released, the band (difficult to classify but extremely atmospheric psychedelic
metal with some black metal-ish elements) play an immense set that wouldn’t
have been out of place in a huge arena show and utterly destroys the medium
sized venue; no wonder around one in four festivalgoers are wearing a Sólstafir
shirt. They prove a slightly tough act to follow for Secrets of the Moon, who
are minus their usual bassist (Triptykon guitarist V. Santura stepping in) but still
end the night with a razor-sharp performance of thrash-edged BM to a sadly
not-quite capacity crowd; still, pretty triumphant for a Thursday night. SotM
benefit from a great sound and it’s notable that throughout the festival the
technical issues that seem to be endemic at these kind of events are notable by
their absence. On Friday the atmosphere really steps up a gear and the
afternoon starts with a blistering performance by the unfeasibly young-looking
local death metal band Offerings, who blast through the mellow alcoholic torpor
of the venue with aggression and enthusiasm. There is a definite blackened edge
to Offerings’ material, but the energy and aggression of their performance puts
them very much in the death metal camp and those who turn up are blown away. A
large part of the early evening drones and sludges pleasantly by with Plastic
Gods standing out from the crowd by virtue of their varying tempos and
memorable tunes. Celestine too are impressive, but a change of tone seems due
just as Skálmöld take to the stage to give one of the performances of the festival. From start to finish, they play a
high-spirited and utterly assured show, full of powerful Viking metal,
alternately melancholy and rousing, thankfully lacking both cheese and
humppa-style drinking songs. With their first album already successful at home
and about to be released internationally through Napalm Records, Skálmöld are
in high spirits and the crowd love them; a perfect festival band. Gone Postal
had the unenviable task of following them – and did a good job; their brand of
death metal with blackened edges is skilful and powerful, although a little
dour as a follow-up to Skálmöld.
The party mood
returns with a vengeance with the appearance of the godfather/grandfather of
Icelandic heavy metal, Eiríkur Hauksson (and half of Skálmöld in his band).
Hauksson is a singer in the classic Bruce Dickinson/Geoff Tate mould, and for
those not familiar with his greatest hits, he also sings covers of classics by
Judas Priest, Metallica and other such gods. His version of ‘For Whom The Bell Tolls’ would be completely
cheesy were it not for the immense happiness and goodwill he generates in the
crowd. His voice remains impressively clean and strong throughout a strenuous
hour long set. By complete contrast the opening fanfare of ‘Donald Where’s Your Trousers’(sic) – I do realise, as the singers
on the intro tape seemingly don’t, that it should of course be ‘troosers’) is
the only lighthearted moment of an immense and crushing performance by classy
Dutch death metallers The Monolith Deathcult. The sound is huge and
gut-wrenching and the band projects a very un-Dutch aura of claustrophobic intimidation.
They play with breathtaking power and precision and somehow manage to utterly
change the mood of the show without losing the crowd’s enthusiasm.
All I can say
about Dr Spock is I don’t get it; what seemed to me an unwelcome
clownish-yet-unfunny punk novelty act (complete with elephant masks, funny
clothes etc) was wholly embraced by an ecstatic crowd and is apparently
something of an institution in Iceland – fair enough. It’s at this point that
the 24 hour daylight and cool night air with beautiful misty fjord landscapes
becomes more than just a bonus. Walking out of the venue into the mass of
friendly, inebriated Icelandic youngsters is a unique festival experience that
should not be missed. By comparison with a British crowd the Icelandic
festivalgoers are incredibly pleasant, welcoming and peaceable, though just as
ready to go ballistic for a great band.
Day three has,
if anything, an even more varied bill, although the first few acts (beginning
at 3pm) had a tough time fighting through the hungover torpor of the crowd.
Icelandic newcomers Witches impressed with some promisingly non-shit female-fronted
gothic metal, but a later slot would have served them better. The same goes for
Chao, who were barely visible by candlelight (until anyone opened the outside
door) and played some excellent, completely non-innovative old-school black
metal with passion and disdain. Another too-early highlight is Beneath, who
play an energetic, charismatic set of brutal ‘what’s-not-to-like’ death metal with
some anthemic blackened moments (‘Sacrificial
Ritual’ standing out) and excellent musicianship. Just as the crowd started
to gather, the mood changed sharply with Mammút, a very likeable but not hugely
dynamic pop-rock band who seemed a little lacking in confidence in their heavy
surroundings. The next standout was a great set by Momentum, an extremely tight
and ambitious prog/psych metal band, alternatively soothing and riffy, their
vast music perfectly capturing the festival atmosphere. Later, Brain Police
played a feelgood set of stoner rock ‘n’ roll, marked by extremely good songs
(not necessarily a feature of lots of good stoner bands). Brain Police are
pretty well known in Iceland, but it’s hard to imagine their show not going
down well anywhere – a great performance and top-class, memorable material.
Before their show, there is a certain amount of trepidation regarding Triptykon
– although Tom G. is palpably excited to be in Iceland, a lot of the kids don’t
seem to be all that aware of their material or heritage and their set is placed
between two very popular Icelandic bands, Brain Police and Ham. Within seconds
of taking the stage, all doubts concerning the band are blown away. Triptykon
are visibly enjoying themselves(!) and play an immense, intense show, almost
equally divided between highlights of Eparistera
Daimones and classic Celtic Frost material. The band’s power and charisma (bassist Vanja Slahj is probably star of the festival for me)
effortlessly win over the crowd as they play masterful versions of epoch-making
metal anthems like ‘Dethroned Emperor’
and rarely does a crowd go as apeshit as Eistnaflug did for ‘Circle Of The Tyrants’. For
non-Icelanders it was the perfect end to a great festival. Local rock/metal legends
Ham actually brought proceedings to a spirited end, but without the benefit of
nostalgia their catchy music felt a little hollow after Triptykon. All that remained
was to drink beer and watch the crowd dancing at a fun but slightly desperate disco
where Slayer and G’n’R rubbed shoulders with Madonna and an Icelandic-language
version of Chubby Checker’s ‘Let’s Twist
Again’. Eistnaflug may seem like an out-of-the-way detour in your festival
diary, but it’s a unique experience – try it if you get the chance.
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