Saturday 1st October
Inhalo from the host country started proceedings on this rainy Saturday afternoon. The funky sound of an American tv drama theme struck up. The Netherlands is a factory for great and usually unknown prog bands, and here was another one. The band got into their stride with a punchy rhythm. The singer’s voice was clear and transmitted feeling. He went up in my estimation when he mentioned that he’d played here before with A Liquid Landscape, one of my favourite ever ProgPower acts. On the sartorial side of things, beanie hats are evidently the thing this year. After the guitarist from Von Hertzen Brothers who sported a red beanie, Inhalo’s singer wore a purple one. The bassist meanwhile had the look and gestures of an ageing rocker, flexing his knees at the prescribed angle, and making slow and deliberate movements in the pursuit of total coolness. But it’s the music that counts, and here was heavy, swaying prog metal.
Drama poured forth without being laboured. The singer explained that the set consisted of the whole of the 2022 “Sever” album from start to finish, and that was fine with me as I hadn’t heard it anyway. “Sisyphean” was great, thundering on dynamically but with moments of tension and mystery. The following song ended with the bassist’s arm in a dramatic right-angled pose above his head. Some things cannot be explained. The highlight of this dynamic set of smooth and forceful musical image was “Eventide”. Eastern mists surrounded us. A tribal beat added potency. The song was hypnotising and mesmerised us as it became heavier. The five-piece projected themselves well and the vocalist engaged in a little light banter. When playfully questioning the advice to wear a coat at an indoor festival, he should have added “but don’t forget to wear a beanie, the must have item”. That would have been good marketing. “The Mirror Door” had all the qualities I was beginning to appreciate about this band: it was smooth, heavy, dark, soothing and pungently heavy. It worked so well. It was amazing to think that that the dark vocals came from the gracious and softly spoken vocalist.
Progress was fluent. “The Last Vestige” ended the set. It was the edgy and powerful prog to which we had become accustomed. We dreamt again. It finished with a pulsating passage. Inhalo are masters of mood and sophistication. Once again the Netherlands and the ProgPower organisers triumphed with a great band from the home country. I bought the album and noticed while at the merch stand that the band was selling beanie hats. Inhalo had warmed us up with their performance so maybe we didn’t need the hat after all.
From the land of Schlotterbeck and Müller comes Smalltape. This collective comprised five people, two of whom were multi-instrumentalists including the highly visible leader Mr Smalltape whose job was to play, preach, supervise his flock and address the evils of the world. We audience members got our orders later. I’m still wavering over the idea of whether the kaleidoscope of styles we had here was a good thing or a bad thing and of course it’s neither, but overall I didn’t like it.
The wispy sound of the saxophone added sinister weight to the combinations of dark electro and heavy rock. The drums were solid and whilst I enjoyed the dark electro and trip hop moments, Mr S’s aim seemed to be to send us in all directions with this obscure and jazzy experimental fare. “Colours” was a song of messages, and prompted a mid-song rant but as a piece of music I liked the fact that it had the air of the night about it. Occasional passages got me interested but all in all I sensed that Mr S was appreciating his own efforts far more than I did.
Vertical light poles and a flower-bedecked mic stand marked out the presence of Feather Mountain from Denmark. The band opened up with a melodic prog opener with clean and growled vocals. This pattern remained for the duration of the set. From dreaminess it would explode into life with screams and served as a wake up call. The visual performance amounted to some loving glances from the guitarist and the throwing back of his impressively long locks with the added potential hazard of them getting caught in his guitar strings. The singer had little to say and seemed on a mission to avoid interaction with the audience. His invitation to make a party was so lacking in enthusiasm that I’m guessing he must have meant a political party. He did explain that there were songs from “To Exit a Maelstrom” but as the set went on, I sensed that we’d already exited it and the vocalist in particular was in pain for some reason. The songs were solidly prog, and whilst there was nothing wrong technically or vocally, it all seemed cliché-ridden, and was short on excitement as the band went through the motions of completing their set.
“Good evening” was the greeting from the stage in a distinctly Welsh voice. Godsticks were here to play. And play they did, starting with the punchy melody of “Denigrate”. It soon became evident that there was a comforting solidity about these songs. “Belief” was another chunky driving force. There was nothing pretentious about this, and this is something that I liked. Lyrics shone through – “I’m the victim” went one line, but in common with the songs there was no space for self-pity.
There was an evident Godsticks formula – the solidly technical rock rhythm and a classic song structure. “We’re going to do something quiet whether you like it or not” announced the singer-guitarist who was an all-round good laugh. The formula was the same whether it was faster or slower. Even with the heavy beat, emotion could still stand out. I detected a little bit of Mercenary in some of the riffs but basically this band didn’t mess about, banged out some tunes, some more technical than others, and it was all very pleasing to the ear. Godsticks rocked, literally.
A small man in a white winter hooded anorak entered the stage. Sensibly he had heeded the advice to come to the concert in a coat. This was Iotunn from Denmark and the Faroe Islands according to the lead yeti in the anorak. All hell broke loose as he growled at us before switching to a clean power voice in this fantasy world of blizzards and scary monsters. It was relentlessly epic and loud, like the storm of winter, which provided the logic for the yeti man wearing his thick coat. The mic had a search light – very handy indeed in these conditions. His hood was additionally useful for effective head banging. The bulky mean and metal-looking guitarists looked like twins – I later found out from one of them that they are brothers. The bassist with the designer haircut and frock coat with a turtleneck thrust his head band in an unnatural position. How very metal. I could hear words like “emptiness” but the scene that was being depicted was clear as we were being taken epically to some extra-terrestrial world. You got a lot of posturing for your metal here. Iotunn were recreating a ball of fury and gargantuan storms with their relentless intensity. I’m not sure whether we were (a) going into battle, (b) fighting enemies or (c) dealing with adverse weather. Ah, cliché alert: “Just stay strong”. Good, sensible advice.
The overwhelming firepower continued. There was no conversational interface from the band with us earthlings but this was ok. They had more important things to be worrying about. Cost of living, price of petrol – pah, Iotunn had bigger fish to fry. The yeti man employed his search light. The wall of sound blasted on through the imaginary ice and snow. Impressive power vocals and growls alternated. The search light shone onto the ceiling. Not sure what they were going to find there. Ah, double cliché time: “prepare to die” and “the endless night”. Blimey, another one: “See the Stars”. They’re coming thick and fast. Great guitar work accompanied all this mayhem. Finally in this war of attrition there was a mellow section. There was still the same expanse of sound, mind. This lot weren’t going to sacrifice harshness, intensity or epic soundscapes. For once the yeti man spoke and put on his ET voice. He played his part well with his slow, mystical movements. The yeti man croaked out that we were going to have a short one to finish. I didn’t check my watch but I reckon “Laihen’s Golden Pits” went on for about 15 minutes. It was one final piece of epic fare. The guitar work was sublime, and it all made for an unremittingly majestic finale. It was utterly ridiculous really but Iotunn’s show was magnificent, heavy and spellbinding.
Radio 1 has a slot called unpopular opinions. “My favourite airline is Ryanair” is one that I like. Well in recent times I lost empathy with Green Carnation. I used to be obsessed with them, especially when the album “A Blessing in Disguise” (2003) was out. I don’t know if it’s some reaching out thing, taking themselves too seriously, or commercialism to get their music out there, which I do understand, but prior to the 2020 album “Leaves of Yesteryear” there was a lot of fanfare about the band reforming and a number of in-depth interviews. Drama, drama. And although I liked some of it, I didn’t personally think it was that great an album, or at least it didn’t touch me that much. For me Green Carnation are a marmite band: I absolutely love what they do or I can’t get it at all. But I cannot deny that these Norwegians are great musicians and are emphatically good at melancholy. Oh, and having last time round at ProgPower branded in my ramblings a US band whose identity has passed into the mists of my fading memory as Norwegians, I am delighted to report that Green Carnation are actual Norwegians.
The start was mysterious. The sound built up. The avuncular Kjetil with his white beard and steely eyes appeared and sang with great power and authority. Without prevarication we were into the gloom of “My Dark Reflections of Life and Death”. I braced myself for 90 minutes of morbid gloom, especially as “The World without a View” followed. But I did appreciate the heavy instrumental work which swept up the melancholy. But this was music to burst into tears to. And then things changed. The melancholy remained of course. The thing about Green Carnation is that they present statements in an articulate way and with the mood set by the instrumentalists and the delivery of Kjetil who speaks to every one of us individually, it seems, it’s as if we would be missing out on something important if we didn’t listen. The recovery, at least in my eyes. began with “Sweet Leaf” off “The Acoustic Verses”. The drum pumped out the rhythm to this heart-warming song. The band then seduced me with “Byron and Cole” from my favourite “Blessing in Disguise” album. As well as being an old favourite, it’s a great live song and powerful in every way.
We passed through the delicate melancholy of “Leaves of Yesteryear”. It tears at the heart strings. The drum pounded and the guitars were progressively heavy. Kjetil was imposing. The chorus is anthemic. “Lullaby in Winter” was a perfectly crafted song with Kjetil giving us all his personal attention. The sound was subtle like autumnal leaves rustling in a tree. But it’s highlight was a mesmerising bouzouki section by the youthful-looking guitarist who looked as if he was in hypnosis when playing it. “It rained on the day I fell asleep. I never returned” pronounced Kjetil chillingly. As on the albums, Kjetil captivated us with every word, and did so in “Rain”. They have a lot of that in Norway, I understand. Here it’s imbued with dark meaning. It occurred to me as I listened to “Sentinels” and then ”Pile of Doubt” that the timings and transitions of Green Carnation’s music are so immaculate.
“Pile of Doubt” is typical in the lyrics are almost childish but there is nothing childish in the message. Kjetil, who was gracious and humble throughout in his presentations, offered us a deal of two songs as an encore. This was gladly accepted. “Hounds” has a powerful, headbang-friendly build-up, yet also sent shivers through my spine. Its total power invaded my soul. The end came with “I Was You”. Lush, dreamy, deep and soulful, the words “I was you, you were blind” haunt me as I write. Deep mists fell. Kjetil sang from the heavens. The atmosphere was magical. The end was huge. Green Carnation are unique. They are special. This was a wonderful experience, and all I wanted to do was go back and drink in all their albums again.
Review: Andrew Doherty
Photos: Alex Blokdijk
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