Which side of me will win?

Metalcamp 2011: “Wurr-ek…”

My friend (and frontman of one of my favourite bands, Electric Eel Shock) Aki loves Death Angel. Many times I’ve seen him wearing a Death Angel T-shirt and when he’s wearing a Death Angel T-shirt he will often point to the Death Angel logo and nod sagely. That’s all the recommendation I need.

So after Airbourne we stick around for Death Angel, and I for one very much enjoy their set. Ash says they’re good but very generic, not realising that they’ve been around since 1982 and therefore helped shape the thrash metal genre as we know it. I sometimes wonder if he knows anything about metal at all.

I should point out in the interests of fairness though that Ash did not actually wear his earplugs through any of the three sets we saw tonight, so maybe there’s hope for his overall metalness yet.

On our way out of the arena we’re chatting about, y’know, whatever and a guy walking in front of us turns around, looks at us and says, “Are you… English?” We admit that we are and, whaddya know, he is too. His name is Tim and he keeps apologising for being a knobhead, even though he’s not. He’s quite out of it though and seems at one point to be under the assumption that we’re camped with some other English people he knows. We’re not. Our neighbours are Slovenian and Croatian.

Tim says he’s having a great time and that Metalcamp is the best festival ever – I’m telling you, nobody there ever says anything different – then he bids us farewell. I then give Nina a ring and she tells me she’s at the Irish camp. At this point I know that the Irish camp is one of the many places we went looking for Nick the previous night, but I don’t know which one. Nina describes it until I’m pretty sure I know which one. It’s the one deep in the forest, so we head back to our tents to get torches.

So, we follow the track that leads to the campsite beach then walk right past where the Irish camp actually is and head into the forest. It’s not long before we’re plunged into total silence and darkness. There’s a really steep bit with an uneven, narrow, zig-zagging path that leads down to the edge of the river. One of us, I can’t remember which, nearly stumbles into certain death here. When we get to the bottom we turn our torches off and start pissing about pretending we’re in the Blair Witch Project.

“I am so scared! I don’t know what’s out there! We are going to die out here! I am so scared!”

Then we continue along the path and from the darkness ahead of us we hear,


A few more paces and there’s a stationary lone figure caught in the beam of my torch. It’s shirtless, it’s bearded, it’s wearing a Canadian flag and it says,


It’s Nick.

“Hey Nick” I say chirpily.

“Wurr-ek…” says Nick, not so chirpily.

We carry on past him until we reach what I thought was the Irish camp. There’s only a few people here and I don’t really know any of them.

“Is this the Irish camp?” I enquire.

“No,” says a Canadian.
“Yes,” says an Irishman.
“I don’t know… maybe,” says a very drunk Slovene.

“Wurr-ek…” says a voice from the darkness behind us.

We’ve made a mistake, which is to say I have. These guys invite us to stay for a beer anyway, but we politely decline and head back the way we came. Just as we’re leaving, Nick appears, having finished throwing up on the footpath.

“I took a shit!” he announces. “It’s okay, it was to the side.”

I keep my torch beam on the floor right in front of me on the way back, just in case.


Filed under: Metalcamp, , , , , , , , , , ,

One Response

  1. Peter says:

    Brutal Assault is better

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: