It was the Saturday of what has now become Ozzy Osbourne’s farewell performance, with Black Sabbath’s iconic reunion in Birmingham attracting metalheads from around the world to pay tribute to their immense influence on the world of headbanging genre-defying rock. While livestreams played everywhere (especially amid the MJB team), the three of us Stoomies went for an indirect celebration of Black Sabbath’s impact, inside the tight-knit stoner rock community of London.
Circus Cannon
Opening the day loud and clear were London’s Circus Cannon. Half teenage heartthrob soundtrack, half Terrence Malick epiphany montage, the vocals were sparse and merely hinting at the shapes of a soundscape rather than enforcing it. Mellowing into indie shoegaze while saving their strength for hard rock choruses, it was the perfect warm up for a packed Stoomfest day. They finally had me when they snuck in Beethoven’s Ode to Joy melody at the end of their set, making me laugh out loud, while also leaving my poor brain to sing along (with the Romanian lyrics mind you!) as the band layered riff after riff around it.
Novere
It was like a cold plunge. You count three, two and you go. Bass player Top Tarasin managed to keep his cap on for a miraculous one song. Fellow guitarist Matt Bianciotto seemed about ready to slice a man in two. Whenever you thought you understood the genre, they threw another one at you: punk, hardcore, prog metal, death metal, black metal, shamanic metal, doom, stoner, psychedelic. You could fill a t-shirt with all the elements, so masterfully concocted you could never predict where you’ll end up, in a bar fight or a loving climax, nor could you fear it. It felt so natural. As drummer Voi shared with us, the music is a journey, it takes them as far as it takes us and it’s intense, reliving what drove the music writing process in the first place. This was their only performance this year as band members navigate life changes and they made it count. People were left gaping and gasping by the end.
Erronaut
2025 straight up said “here, have all the heavy bass”. Desertfest discovery Erronaut were a last minute replacement for Red Sun Atacama, who had to pull out after their album recordings overran, and I’m honestly shocked they weren’t on the lineup already. They fit like your favourite comfort jumper on a rainy day, with their blend of shamanic bass riffs, impeccable shred moments and grungy vocals. It’s always really special to find a new favourite band at a festival, and having had Lost Cause on daily repeat since May, I was primed and ready to headbang my neck away to it. Pumping up the crowd with other great tracks off their debut album, like Per Contra and Way Down Below, Stoomfest was their biggest stage since Bloodstock 2021 and it sure as hell won’t be their last.
Slung
By all descriptions, a palette-cleanser. Brighton natives Slung may not take their band name too seriously (as bassist Vlad Matveikov explained “Back in the sixties or seventies, you could sit down and be like, Queen, is that taken? No. We’ll be Queen”, but nowadays there are less words available, so “we just wanted one punchy word […] and we thought we’ll sling a couple songs out, sling, slung” voilá), but their live performance blends a tight set with a fun attitude. From the fuzzy guitars of Ali Johnson to the hardcore drumming of Ravi Martin to vocalist Katie Oldham bringing punk power and expressive drama to the stage (“I love the theatre of it”) in a way not not reminiscent of Chapelle Roan’s style, theirs was by far the most different set of the day, in a way that clicked with everyone. Easy on the ears, fun to dance to, it came as no surprise that the earliest installment of the band formed in an Australian campsite.
Spaceslug
Floating by Maha Sohona and waving at fellow countrymen Moonstone, Wrocław’s trio Spaceslug are an experimental bunch. Subdued in their stage presence, their set took the trance-inducing low growls and vocals of shamanic metal and immersed them in a perilously tasty bass groove (like Bemused and Gone off their 2017 EP Mountains & Reminiscence). There is a hint of the sensual in a Deftones brush-of-the-hand fierce-eye-contact way on Tears of Antimatter, always balancing a heavy melancholy, the despair of watching the end coming closer and closer. Post rock warned of what’s on the other side of the tidal wave, but Spaceslug are not afraid. They’re looking heavenwards.
Wyatt E
The robe-clad quintet do not indulge in words; their garb, the fog and the orange lights set the scene for the welcomed traveller’s story. Stoomfest organiser Aitor Méndez called this the moment he knew this edition kicked ass. Face-melting doesn’t do them justice. This was the equivalent of a sandstorm engulfing you at full speed or a nuclear blast heat wave. You can only glimpse things, nothing is certain. Was that a hand rising from the spilling ground or just a cloud? The notes bounce off of ruins and marble faces, us the blind bats navigating by their guidance. Of course, it’s just guitars and drums and sound effects and vaguely Arabic-sounding scales, but how effectively used in their sparsity, how restrained until they aren’t and the ten thousand horses of watt and imagination are unleashed.
I’m just guessing. That’s the beauty.
Monkey3
It’s never a dull moment with Monkey3. I walk out of their sets not knowing what had just happened, like I’d tripped over a root, got sucked into a wormhole and spat out into my day job with no proof except a tremor in my hands and a slightly altered perception of time. They are evolution’s natural progression from Pink Floyd: technically jaw-dropping, with shred guru Boris on guitar and Jalil effortlessly slaying on bass, and that certain je ne sais quoi ambiance of the masterful psychedelic band, that breathless lift it does from down-to-the-floor grounded to the cosmic. They always feel just a step away from a techno breakdown. They also need no words for what they do.
Check out their latest project with Mars Red Sky, Monkeys on Mars, with an upcoming album out on October 17.
Valley Of The Sun
Nothing quite like a bit of Americana hard rock to plug you back in after a full day of festival. One of my personal discoveries were Cincinatti-based Valley of the Sun, promoting their 2024 album Quintessence, so high energy they merely graze the introspectiveness of stoner rock. Wow, were they long awaited! The crowd progressed from moshpits to holding up the very brave crowdsurfers ready to risk it all for some epic times to such gorgeously maddening pieces as Centaur Rodeo, both hyper-technical and super fun. What it is about a band that immediately makes you wanna stomp your feet and headbang remains a mystery to me, but they fell strongly into that category.
GAUPA
Ever since first seeing them in the Underworld at Desertfest 2023, I had not one doubt in my mind that GAUPA would make it big. Two years later, they’ve played Hellfest, freshly released a new EP FYR and have now headlined Stoomfest to a chomping-at-the-bit audience. The Swedish band, fronted by the whirlwind powerhouse in the person of Emma Näslund, went straight into their latest releases, like Ten of Twelve, more experimental, guitar-heavy and ear-stretchingly dissonant than fan-favourites Exoskeleton or RA. As tireless as ever, Emma kept disappearing from the stage and popping up on the rail, bidding the crowd to sing along (not that they needed any more incentive) and there were stray moshers everywhere.
I will die on this hill, that nothing (quote me!) nothing on stage looks as satisfying as a row of beautiful long-haired musicians headbanging in unison. It scratches a visceral itch, like peeling paint or watching a storm turn your car into a hyperdriven rocket. With the yearning calls of Febersvan as their encore, GAUPA ended an absolutely epic headline day for Stoomfest as one of the most exciting bands on the touring circuit today.
