Day 1

The excitement is palpable on the first day of Temples as the 2000 or so patrons eagerly await the delights of the truly impressive bill. The room for the Second Stage is packed as Flayed Disciple open up the second stage serving us some old school death-trash with effortless precision. Code’s new vocalist may just be settling in but melts effortlessly into the old sound only hindered by theatrical fluttering. The room turns distinctly black as northeastern beasts Wodensthrone unleash atmospheric layers of tremolo riffs with triumphant synths cut from the heart of heathen Britain itself. Winterfylleth fell victim to Friday’s sound issues, descending into a repetitive wall of noise, but luckily Desecration were ready to up the ante, running through neck-snapping family favorites such as ‘coffin smasher’ and ‘cunt full of maggots’. Mick Kenney may have been absent from the Anaal Nathrakh lineup for Temples, but his replacement is more than a match for their usual barrage of noise. As people pack to the main-stage, Gehenna’s old school blackened mass falls on just a few ears but those that remain are treated to cold dissonant blasts right out of ancient Norway.

Some niggling sound issues are present at the Main-stage, but it doesn’t make much difference to the likes of Moss and Jucifer who both do their best to blow out as many eardrums as possible with their devastatingly heavy sludge batterings. Blood Ceremony draw a large crowd and it isn’t just because of what vocalist Alia O’Brien can do with a flute; their brand of rural pagan doom has enough charm and Sabbath-ian groove to bewitch anyone watching. There’s a feeling of sadness in the air as grindcore veterans Brutal Truth take the stage for their last ever UK show, but the feeling soon dissipates as they proceed to level the venue with mini cluster bomb tracks from ‘Extreme Conditions…’ through to ‘End Time.’ Drummer Rich Hoak hits his snare so fast it’s a wonder his arms don’t fall off while rotund frontman Kevin Sharp grunts and bellows his way through the likes of ‘Fuck Cancer’ like a belligerent old dog refusing to admit his day has come. Electric Wizard’s headline set is characterised by bad vibes, sloppy playing and ear-splitting heaviness; just why we love them. The absence of the trademark visuals may lessen the atmosphere slightly but it doesn’t stop ‘Satanic Rites of Drugula’, ‘Dopethrone’ and a gloriously ramshackle ‘Funeralopolis’ from burying the audience in smoke in a gloriously downbeat closer to Day 1.

Day 2

There’s a few sleepy faces on Day 2 so what better wake-up call for the Second Stage than a blast of vicious metallic hardcore from local heroes True Valiance to brush away the cobwebs? Those expecting a Sabbath cover band are no doubt confused by Mob Rules and their disjointed hardcore which goes off in all directions, none of them particularly satisfying. Both Unkind and Vitamin X get their rage on in style with some impressive crowd participation but both of these acts are a mere forerunner to the triumphant return of D-Beat gods Wolfbrigade whose snarling, relentless set has bodies swaying and screaming along to cuts from as far back as the Wolfpack era. No one wants it to end yet as soon as old crusties Doom saunter on stage and set about reminding us that the 80s never really ended, all that matters is how utterly relevant they, and the likes of ‘Police Bastard’ still are.

 
Hangovers seemed plentiful on in the early afternoon as Mike Gallagher of ISIS fame entrances us with his post-rock side project MGR on the Main-Stage. Long intros and sparse notes dropping into shrieks show Bossk are on full form that evening, warming up for doom lords Conan who roll out a thundering wall of noise that make even the hardiest earplugs quake. Matching the intensity, Tombs heavy mass of sound is a dark moving mass of noise, twisting and turning through the set with deadly precision. Calling the masses back, Amenra captivate with bleak black and white visuals and Cult of Luna sound. The stark contrast of riffs and doomier chords combine perfectly to create an atmosphere of disembodied despair and pain. Neurosis said a massive fuck you to curfew and set times sailing through their billed time and treating fans to a massive 2-hour set. Their experience is evident as they break out solid grooves that ensnare even the most exhausted crowd members to the final note.

Day 3

One of the largest crowds of the festival turn out for the lighter fare of Beastmilk and it’s impossible to resist the pitch black post-apocalyptic party for anything longer than a few seconds. Smiles are soon wiped however by the blackened rage of Oathbreaker who attack their instruments with venom, laying waste to the assembled throng with their nihilistic fury. A weak guitar tone and frequent pauses renders The Secret an exercise in frustration although ‘Seven Billion Graves’ still cuts deep. Nothing can prepare however for the complete annihilation of Dragged Into Sunlight whose wall of fog and caustic noise is like being hit by a nuclear bomb while being butchered by the Manson family. Repulsion have no hope of matching such intensity but you can’t argue with their cheery demeanour and the bulk of “Horrified” going down in easily digestible rotting chunks.

An energetic start to Main-Stage as rock n roll band Lionize attempt to breathe life into a flagging audience with soaring vocals and classic riffing. Continuing on, stoner rock act Black Moth up the fuzz and hazy solos are offset by Hyde’s slow, haunting vocals. Herder up the energy, bursting on with a pure dosage of sludge on speed although it lacks the depth that Issac’s post-Taint band Hark brings to the stage. Crossover thrash masters SSS bring with them an infectious, relentless energy, pummeling out short sharp pulses of sound, rousing the crowd into masses of flailing bodies and limbs. Twin harmony riffing and vocal bellowing abound, its Doomriders consistent energy that ready the main room for the much-anticipated headliner that evening. Clutch’s dirty bluesy rock riffs are an undeniably catchy. Aptly opening on ‘The Mob Goes Wild,’ they break out enjoyable opening grooves but it quickly transforms into a distinctly slow end to an explosive weekend.

WORDS BY JAMES CONWAY & CAITLIN SMITH

PHOTOS BY STEVEN WATKINS