Hard Rock Hell Minehead
9th - 11th November 2007 Review by Chris Davison and Strawb, photos
by Strawb
I've been to some right funny venues from time to time to see bands.
I've seen outfits performing in bars, pubs, schools and in one
memorable case, a living room (it's a long story, and the pay off
isn't really worth the story being told). I have to say though, that
I never thought I would be watching extreme metal and classic rock
bands play at a Butlins holiday camp. Firstly, some observations –
Minehead is miles away from anywhere. The Butlins there is a fairly
impressive complex, although I may be easily impressed. Secondly,
while much of the organisation of the festival was similarly well
run, the booking in procedure was a complete nightmare. After
getting our press passes, we were dispatched to our luxury
accommodation (with Strawbs and I playing the roles of Ted Bovis and
Spike from much-loved “Hi-De-Hi”), albeit they didn't actually
provide us with a key to the room. Ho hum. |
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Strawb travelled with his very expensive three and a half thousand
pound camera. Our friend Harry travelled with his extensive
collection of hair care products. I, as ace reporter and
chief-scribe of course didn't think to bring anything else with me,
relying on my own razor-sharp memory had to resort to scrounging a
note pad and biro from the nearest red-coat. Following settling down
into our room, it was time to settle down into an amusingly
wild-west themed bar to watch the “Young Blood” stage. It was round
about now that the first of the good points of being in an all
indoor venue came to mind. It's freezing as hell round those parts
in November, and you could have cut diamonds with my nipples due to
the not inconsiderable chill factor of the grim winds gusting in
from the sea. Luckily, the stage, despite looking like a stage set
from Bonanza, was well sheltered and had an all-too handy bar.
Nestled there, as we were, between the faux-bull horns and
wagon-wheel candelabra, the first band of the day sauntered on to
stage |
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Immanis were a perfect
opener for the festival. Exponents of self-professed “massive-core”,
they were bounding with enthusiasm and a sound chunkier than an HGV
trailer full of Yorkie bars. Their singer, looking most resplendent
in a rather fetching kilt, exhorted the crowd to participate, though
it must be said that the clear star of the band was their dexterous
and inventive guitar player. Their song composition clearly needs
further attention, and they could do with dropping the last
lingering influences of nu-metal, in particular the rap-lite vocal
delivery. Still, a promising start, and on a practical level, a good
move to have a back banner. For those bands that followed, how did
you expect late comers and drunkards (not mutually exclusive terms I
may add) to be able to tell you apart?
SKWAD were up later, and I had
the nagging doubt that I knew who they were from somewhere. As it
transpires, a couple of the band had previous stints in
Psycho-Squad, whom I had seen supporting Motorhead some time ago. I
think the most kind thing I could say about them is that they may
well have been appearing before the wrong crowd, while their brand
of post-indie rock meandered harmlessly past my lugs. Still, they
didn't disturb my beer drinking at all.
Sacred Mother Tongue, despite the utterly rubbish name,
were pleasing to the ears. Having one of the best vocal performers
of the entire weekend helped matters greatly, and another
enthusiastic stage presence by all concerned certainly broadened
their appeal. With a likable, if none too distinct line in thrashy
metal, I found myself nodding my head for positive reasons rather
than the onset of slumber. |
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Avenger
were nothing less than a Geordie revelation. Their dual guitar
infused, honest earthy and surprisingly catchy NWOBHM madness had me
wishing that I'd got my own cut off denim waistcoat. Superb guitar
heroics perfectly accompanied nonsensical fare such as the rousing
“Deathrace 2000”, while their singer, clearly loving his time on
stage, won round the entire crowd for the first time in the
festival. Their excellence not withstanding, as I was later to
discover, this was the same Avenger that had released a couple of
albums in the eighties – in name at least, and thus I was slightly
puzzled as to why they were appearing on the “Young Blood” stage.
Great stuff, and a name I encourage all discerning L4M readers to
research further. |
| Round about now, my inebriation levels were reaching “precarious”. A
steady diet of beer, both bought and ligged (with special mention to
fellow Wolves supporter Daryl on the free-bar), had meant that I was
now fully relaxed and in my prime for banging one off. The head that
is. Which is when the transferral to the next stage occurred. The
use of the Butlins main hall for a stage is again inspired, with the
really large bar and the graduated flooring allowing for the best of
views for all concerned. Amenti
were a breath of muscular, modern thrash-based air. With some
exceedingly muscular riffing, and a vocalist performance that owed
more than a little to The Haunted, further comparisons with their
sound circa, say, “Made me do it” are inevitable. That being said,
their sheer wall of sound was enough to make even the most hardened
of rivet heads to sit up and take notice. I managed to grab a few
words with Shaun and Ash (axe-slingers in chief), and asked them
about their recent journeys. Tours had been completed by the boys,
who met in that hotbed of all things metallic – Stoke on Trent – to
the far east of Europe, alongside such scene giants as Vader and
Krisiun. Despite having a drummer that looked like a young version
of Spock, their metallic credentials were plain to see, and more
than perhaps any other band which I hadn't heard before my
appearance at HRH, they are a band that are clearly destined to
greater things. Oh, and they do it “for the fans” - which for once I
think is a truism rather than a trite cliché. |
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Cthonic strode purposefully onto
the stage, and despite being a visual delight, what with their face
paint and rock-poses, the sound was another thing altogether. Their
T-shirts may have proclaimed them to be some sort of aural typhoon,
but on this showing, it seemed as if the storm may have blown itself
out. Thanks to the only apparent electrical gremlins of the
festival, for most of the set the PA wasn't pumping out any of the
guitars or bass, leaving us with drums, keyboards and shrieking
black-metal vocals. In the words of the eminent philosopher, they
“fucking sucked ass”. |
Zero Cipher
were at least an arresting visual sight, clad as they were in
matching red shirts and black trousers combo. They also had what
appeared to be a Klingon on the decks – which is a first as far as I
am concerned. However, if the thought of a heavy metal band with a
DJ fills you with dread (as it should), then they sounded just as
you imagine they would have done. Not awful, but far from “good.”
Tiamat have been fucking shit
ever since they found an old Sisters of Mercy tape in their
wardrobes and decided that this was the way of rock music, and not
that pathetic black metal stuff they had been peddling. If you
detect some minor sarcasm here, it's because I found them utterly
awful. Despite having Martin Powell guesting on keyboards, their
tedious navel gazing take on goth-rock seemed to have most of the
girlies all of a flutter. Alas, for I am not a girly.
(CD)
Angels & Demons category. So now we open the main stage. At last,
lighting. And first up, Spit Like This,
the band with one of the better websites I have visited recently.
And a slight overdose of attitude – yes, I feel that is fair. Plenty
in the crowd and they were fully entertained - more my sort of
music. And the evenings first hot chic – like her choice of
clothing, appropriate to the occasion. Entertaining and a great
opener. Didn’t see the full set as my photo commitments now meant 3
stages were active and needed covering. (S) |
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My Dying Bride were one of the
bands that I really, really wanted to see live. This was the first
time that I'd seen them since...Christ, it was a long time ago when
I was still at university over ten years ago. As their career has
rocketed back into action and into form since the semi-phoenix like
rise of “the light at the end of the world”. Their live performance
was much, much better than I had remembered, and although by now
deeply under the wings of Bacchus, I managed to resist shouting,
“play To Ride With Tyr” at Hamish Glencross. Combine their usual
moody theatrical approach to metal with a truly spine-tingling
rendition of “The Dreadful Hours”, and you were in the right place
for a truly memorable occasion.
I missed Nemhain, having had the
erm...pleasure of seeing them live at Bloodstock, I had more
important things to do – such as pick peanuts out of my own faeces.
Being the avowed aesthete that he is, Strawb braved another aural
disappointment and confirmed for me that yes, they were just as
awful at HRH as they were earlier in the year – though this time
with one less hottie on |
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Still, I suppose most people were there for the chance to ogle Morrigan Hel in a tight basque anyway.
(CD) |
Back to music next with Zodiac Mindwarp.
I am told these guys always provide a show and this appearance was
no exception. Female entertainers and the first appearance of the
angle grinders and sparks display. And the biggest I saw all
festival, bass that is. The music isn’t top drawer but great
entertainers and crowd pleasers. Had to leave the set earlier than I
may have wanted to get piccies of
Cradle of Filth (S)
Cradle of Filth are a band that
I steadfastly refuse to dislike, even given the huge weight of
opinion in the underground that they are variously “shit” or
“posers”. To be honest, I've long since thought that the nay-sayers
were arses, and as this was my baptism of live filth, I was
determined to enjoy it. Luckily, Dani and co. made it easier by
airing some really old tracks, such as the much-loved Principle of
Evil Made Flesh, and The Forest Whispers My Name. Dani was able to
belt out all the tracks with a strong voice, which again I had read
had been a problem – but the real star of the show was the frankly
thunderous drums of Martin Skaroupka. Providing a war battery to the
ensuing violence, his playing was exemplary. Oh, and seeing Mr.
Filth himself, face painted and PVC'd to the hilt stating “Good
Evening Butlins” was almost worth the admission price of itself.
(CD)
Now just the one stage active and crowd began to swell as |
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arrived from the other venues, and strategically these were the only
bars still open. Chris still with me [just] and ‘tiring’ fast.
Vixen. Came on stage to remind
me of a Dolly Parton tribute / convention, oh no these are women |
after all. But some BIG………..hair present. Real women, no longer at
their youngest but still lookers and well presented, as was their
music. The new album stuff was fresh and listenable, the older
tracks played with enthusiasm and well received by the crowd. And
they did Edge of a Broken Heart very well. (S)
Though I was indeed, erm...emotional by this point, in my defence,
Vixen were the sort of soft-rock nonsense that my bloody mum listens
to! (CD)
Girlschool. Now, I am of an age
where everyday in the squad someone had a GS fantasy. I am sure the
geeks would even go in on a Sunday to expand theirs. And spoiling
the continuity I met two of them. My fantasy fulfilled then.
Powerful opening and obviously had the crowd in the palm of their
hands [if only, eh chaps] Just up front rock and an ecstatic crowd.
Crucified Barbara – met them on their way in as I took a
break. Babes. Keen to get on there. They were as tight as hell and
the stage was theirs and the set included a second visit by the
angle grinder crowd. Blew an amp during the set. Audience thinned
out and some missed the 2 song encore which included a cover of the
Motorhead classic ‘Killed By Death’ - people should leave MH tunes
to Lemmy & co but it wasn’t bad. To end day 1, the final band were
Tokyo Dragons. Someone had to
close and it is a thankless task. No doubt the lack of bodacious
babes thinned the
uncommitted audience, meaning that when the band took the stage |
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the crowd were 2 deep. The bar queue was more densely populated, but
this soon reversed once TD began playing. The initial equipment
problems were soon overcome and enthusiasm abounded both to and from
the stage. A great time was had by those of us who made it to this
stage of the proceedings.
(S)
Day 2 - click
here |
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