Friday, June 11th

If the weather had been acceptable the day before, it was on full ‘fuck you’-mode on Friday. Cold, strong wind combined with hard rain made me question my ability to read weather by looking outside of the window. For a moment, I contemplated the jacket I could have taken, but didn’t and soon warmed myself by the thought of entering the festival area. And enter I did. Late. Again. In my inability to move my body early enough, I missed Parasite City (whom had been signed to fill the gap left by the cancellation of Ratt) and Glamour of the Kill. My Jedi Mind Tricks told me that, in reality, I hadn’t missed a thing.

DEATH ANGEL being all serious.

Whitechapel were wrapping it up as I got to the second stage, so it was up to Death Angel to start my day. And start they did, on the main stage. The San Francisco locals seemed energized and Mark Osegueda was able to inject some warmth into the audience. New bass player, Damien Sisson, seemed to be more than comfortable as the new guy. The set, starting with new and ending in old, more than made up for the fact that I had missed the band live a few years earlier. I also have to ask: Those who’ve seen Mr. Sisson play live… is he Cliff Burton’s long lost twin, or something?

BhhhhOOOORRRiiIInNGGGHHhhR!

Deathcore, metalcore, whatever. Poison the Well and even Killswitch Engage probably did it better ten years ago than August Burns Red today. The kids seemed to be amazed by the band and quite frankly, I couldn’t figure out why. Sure, the band performed well and somewhat energetic, but that goes without saying as everyone in the scene has read the same book about ‘How to act on stage, the ABC’ like it’s goddamn Sun Tzu. Musically, there wasn’t anything to set ABR apart from the gazillion of other bands in the genre. It’s sad that I never got to see Finland’s Down My Throat live. That was a damn good band.

“Fuck it” I cheered and went to get my first beer. As if I needed any more soaking up due to the goddamned weather.

The Hietala Brothers.

When Nightwish sleeps, Marco Hietala’s Tarot does not. Being one of the oldest metal bands in Finland, it’s no wonder that they’re able to put out a decent show without too much of a thought. Concentrating on their more recent creations, the band started out with “Pyre of the Gods”, thus giving me what I wanted early.

Lips from ANVIL taking a shower. The man’s out of control!

I admit it. I had never heard about Anvil before seeing them live on Conan O’Brien’s show a year or two back. They sounded horrible, but bands often did on Conan’s shitty stage. It wasn’t until I saw the documentary “The Story of Anvil” that I realized, that, maybe the band did have some reason to exist.

In that light and even if the band’s rendition of heavy metal doesn’t necessarily grab me by the balls, it was quite heart warming to see the band on stage, doing what they had always wanted to do. And not sucking. Judging by Lips’ wide grin, from ear to ear, Anvil seemed genuinely happy to be where they were: Playing in front of a very welcoming audience. Metal on Metal seemed to be the key and a dildo does make an excellent guitar pick.

To combat the rain and the wind, at some point I had exchanged my liver for a condom; a throwaway raincoat. Of course, being the dumb asshole that I am, I expected Friday’s headliner, Danzig, to take stage on time and removed myself from the over-sized birth control device. After all, this was supposed to be the show for me during the three days of Sauna Open Air.

Granted, every band had been running around 15 minutes late, but after the delay was nearing 40 minutes—the weather being what it was—the crowd was getting agitated and began to shout obscenities and other insults. Since there was a photo ban in place as well, parts of the mainstream media took potshots at the 50-year old rocker the next day, wondering if the reason was the bald spot at the back of Glen’s head. With all due respect, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think the same.

This could be DANZIG. But it isn’t. It’s DEATH ANGEL.

Rockstar or not, once Glenn and the band took stage and, after the intro (“Wotan’s Procession”), hit the play button to “Skincarver”, all seemed to be, and was, forgiven. The man was seriously acting against his age, fiercely throwing himself around the stage, almost slipping at one point. That much was to be expected. What surprised me that after the first few songs, the guy’s pipes seemed to open up and, believe it or not, Mr. Glenn Danzig sounded extremely good in his singing, becoming a force to be reckoned with.

A 60-minute set for Danzig is a travesty, considering how many classic songs were cut out. Yet, definite highlights for me were “Thirteen” and “How the Gods Kill”. Aside from certain hits like “Mother” and “Tired of Being Alive” and “Twist of Cain”, Danzig, also played “Hammer of the Gods” and “On a Wicked Night” from the band’s latest album, Deth Red Sabaoth. The new cuts didn’t sound too bad, to be honest – then again, 2004’s Circle of Snakes was actually a good album, too.

Glenn Danzig in the middle, with Tommy Victor and Steve Zing.

It took a far too long time to Danzig hit the stage, and the man and the band left it far too soon, after an encore that was “Long Way Back from Hell”. A bittersweet gig, but still, a testament to the fact that the dude has what it takes. Still. The show needs to be transferred to an indoor environment though, even if the bone-scraping cold and piss pouring from the sky did create a somewhat appropriate backdrop for the whole masquerade.