On a weekend so packed with big events you’d think London would run out of metalheads, here at the Garage, the stoner rock/doom metal community congregated in droves for the third edition and first day of the much beloved Stoomfest.
Flamebearer
And well, they sure chose the best band to start with. Oozing electricity and shedding pink boa feathers everywhere, Andy Valiant really brought the showman back to the show. Whether dancing in full bare-chested glory or yelling in full 70s glamour, his commitment to 100%-ing everything made you feel inadequate for standing still. It didn’t matter that it was only 7pm: a mosh pit could have formed, it was so engrossing a performance. Bringing members from multiple rock bands inspired by the 80s metal scene, Flamebearer catalyses the over-the-top-ness of that era into a sonic offering fit to bring the catatonic out of REM sleep.
Goat Major
Switching immediately into minor keys and lydian scales, Wales’ Goat Major dabbles into the occult, with riffs rolling and broiling like a witch’s cauldron. They are a classic doom act: bass cranked up to 11, vocals switching from hag-like to werewolf-feral, and a steady feel to the guitar-play that never dips into ostentatious, more like the living embodiment of the face you make when the riff comes back but slower. With their debut album Ritual out last year, there is much for them to look forward to. They make London’s own Green Lung proud.
Moonstone
Ascending as if from a deep undergrowth of mossy green, Kraków’s stoner rock quartet seem to come from a different planet. With an approach to the genre both patient and precise, both mysterious and down-in-the-dirt grounded, this was a set that had me equally swaying and violently headbanging. The willow tree calm of a piece like Bloom is quickly overwritten by the genre-bending awe of a track like Night, where particular praise must go to the drumming, as it swerved from the usual heavy handed doom into lithe sparkling-fast rolls and cymbal swells, almost a jazz take on shamanic rock. They sure felt like a discovery.
Sons Of Arrakis
It’s a good decade to be a band inspired by the Dune series. There is so much to play with: the political drama, the spiritual/religious overtones, the infinite scale of intergalactic empires at war. Montreal’s own Sons of Arrakis showcase their take on the Frank Herbert epic through the power of shredding. For sure the most technically complex set of the day, the guitar play here was as much a character as the lyrical storytelling, with book quotes peppered throughout.
“I found that I could write lyrics about personal feelings that I could then connect to Dune topics” as lead guitarist Frédéric Couture shared with us and this connection extended to the audience. For them, the mosh pit was finally driven to spin and didn’t slow down for the rest of the set. Equal parts melodic and frenzifying energetic, they’d make a badass backdrop to hitching a ride on a sandworm.
Mars Red Sky
Everyone we spoke to was waiting for this. The masters of space stoner rock, the Bordeaux trio come on stage most unassumingly and proceed to work out every last ounce of fuzz from the Orange amps. Slowly building a fresh new soundscape, the first 45 minutes of their set are spent navigating the trails they’ve laid down, through songs old and new. I’d never clocked that Julien Pras plays slide on many tracks, an essential piece of kit for obtaining the smooth transitions and swells that give their music such a visceral feel, like a hand smoothing over the creases in your brain.
A groan of delight escapes the whole crowd to the throat-shattering bass riff starting off Strong Reflection, the band’s most known piece off their eponymous debut album. You’d think a song they’ve played for over 12 years is at risk of becoming stale, but oh no. Not only do they deliver the rollercoaster lifts and drops, like skating over undulating hills, so satisfying to hear on the record, but then they pull one on us and they delay the release. Picture it: you’re pushed into the air by a massive wave beneath you, so strong you’re floating in the air. You expect to fall immediately, but the band won’t let you. You float there, on that precipice of gravity, hovering, almost almost falling, but not yet, not yet… And then you fall. Tumbling. Surfing.
It made me think of Earth and the equally breathless anticipation for release there, how they dragged at it like it was cotton candy. It was immensely effective, the crowd in unison being pulled forward and allowed back down by each bar of what is Mars Red Sky’s masterpiece.
End of the night came, the bass passed overhead like a sacrificial body or a crowdsurfer, and on their way out, people were still recreating that delayed collapse with their friends. That’s how you know, you had a good one.
That’s it for day 1 of Stoomfest! Tune in for Day 2 and GAUPA, rock’n’roll with Valley of the Sun, and a whole new batch of sludgey grungey doomy surprises.