In The Pit

I went to Hanover for Amenra and returned with grievances. Several of them. There was good music, bad organisation, worse manners, unexpected kindness and one increasingly irritated woman trying very hard to call this journalism.

Day Two involved selling merch, borrowing an artist pass, talking my way backstage and actually talking to people. It ended with Gallowbraid’s first-ever live show, a blue moon over Scarborough and the certainty that I would be back.

Back at Fortress Festival in Scarborough for twelve hours of black metal, camera-related despair, unexpected cosmic joy and one headlining set that reduced my notes to "Omg".

Back to England, back to Scarborough, back to Fortress. Before the music, there was Heathrow chaos, Google betrayal, sea-view swooning, beans on toast, sunburn, Whitby crowds, dog-hair beer, and a Dracula purchase that was absolutely necessary.

Friday night in Billstedt began with basil lemonade that tasted suspiciously of pesto and ended with me asking a drummer for a picture of his white cowboy boots. I had a fantastic time.

I was at Atmospheric Arts Festival in Speyer last weekend. Here’s the field report. It includes a poncho, a bathrobe, singing bowls, Riesling Schorle, a bat t-shirt, an emotional breakdown courtesy of a Canadian post-black metal band and the phrase "Hansi Kürsch of depressive black metal". So yes. I had a good day.