Hammerfest III Anticipation doesn't even come close as the journey unfolded towards the first festival of the year. It may not have been under canvas, but yours truly and uber-tog Gobi were like school kids at the prospect of what was to come. Alcoholic oblivion? Rhetorical question. The finest that metal had to offer? Oh yes, and then some... uncharacteristically blue skies were overhead as we arrived. Check in was swift and cheery, and Roman soldiers and ladies in togas had got to be a result. Enough said – add whatever witticism you feel appropriate... Enough of the pre-amble, to the bands...


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Bonecrusher Another year, another Bonecrusher. Would it live up to its name, or would it fall in an embarrassing heap on its metal arse? Kicking off the night were Angelus Apatrida an old school thrash band from the land of the current football World Cup champions. Thrash from Spain? Are you mad? Well, actually, no. Their efforts were diminished by one of the sludgiest, bass-heavy, sounds heard in a long time. Thrash relies on crispness and crunch, and so much that they could have wished to achieve was lost instantly. The relentless double bass drum onslaught boomed alarmingly and negated any bite that the guitars may have had. Don't get me wrong they were still entertaining, with all the prerequisite thrash components being firmly in place, but you couldn't help but wonder how murderous they could be with everything in their favour. Bearing in mind the early start, the pit erupted into life midway through their second track at about 6.25pm so clearly they were doing something right. One to keep an eye on for the next time they visit these shores...


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