Which side of me will win?

Metalcamp 2012: Screaming myself horse

After a long, luxurious, relaxing afternoon at the river, we return to camp to find our enclosure filling out with new arrivals; some of them friends, some of them friends of friends, some of them friends of friends of friends. I think. They’re all from the same region of Slovenia, Koroška, I think, and more or less vaguely know each other. I’ve met some of them before, including Matic (haha… every time…), who I met at Metal Mania a few weeks previously, but never heard speak.

That day he’d been sat slumped on a camping chair in total silence for several hours, moving only to drink from a bottle of water to his right, or to heave up a mouthful of gooey, biley puke to his left. Read the rest of this entry »


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Metalcamp 2012: Pizza Mind

The next day it’s hot. Perfect weather for walking a mile into town to get pizza. It’s not though, of course, but that’s what we do anyway. I sweat even more than I had done the previous day. I’m nearly drowning in it. Ah well, it’ll be river time soon.

I soon learn from my friends that ‘going for pizza’ is a euphemism for ‘taking a big shit’. We do go to a pizzeria, but the pizza is a little secondary bonus really, compared to the main event: the opportunity to sit on a proper flushing toilet for ten minutes and relax. I don’t take a big shit – alas, it wouldn’t be rushed – but I still take a turn sitting on the proper flushing toilet for ten minutes and relaxing. Read the rest of this entry »

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Metalcamp 2012: Bed of nails

Continuing with the theme of being sweaty, and it really was a prevailing theme at this year’s Metalcamp, one thing that made me really perspire was discovering, after pitching my tent, that the spot I had selected was something of a natural bed of nails.

I chose to make my Metalcamp home in a Slovenian camp – with the aforementioned Kat and Marko as well as, eventually, about 15 more Slovenes – because the ground looked softer and more comfortable than at my other option, the very stony, rooty, slopey looking Irish camp inhabited by the aforementioned Matty, Adrian, Tzafi, Dorian and a whole bunch of other people who are either Irish, or spend the whole week going ’round pretending to be (sure). Read the rest of this entry »

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Metalcamp 2012: Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?

I sweat a lot. There’s no point denying it, making excuses for it or even politely ignoring it. It happens. I sweat like a pig… no, more than that… I sweat like a rapist… no, more than that… I sweat like a pig rapist. That’s a rather distasteful way to put it, but I sweat a rather distasteful amount, so deal with it.

“But… but she said she wanted it… I swear!”

During Metalcamp 2012 I will get soaked in my own sweat on countless occasions. It’ll pour off my forehead, it’ll drip off my nose, ears and chin, it’ll dribble into my eyes (yeah, good job eyebrows), it’ll make the back of my shirt stick to me, it’ll make odd shapes on the front of my shirt that, if you look at them for a long time, start to look like things (like when you look at clouds), it’ll make my thighs all slippery and, ultimately, it’ll make we write sentences that are far too long, far too complicated and have far too many commas in them. Deal with it. Read the rest of this entry »

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Metalcamp 2012: Pee in my glass

“Hey Gavin, make me famous. Put me in your blog.”
“Hey Gavin, do you have any good stories for your blog yet?”
“Hey Gavin, now can we play The Poo Game?”

I didn’t realise when I wrote a series of Metalcamp 2011 blogs last year what pressure I would be putting myself under when Metalcamp 2012 rolled around. Suddenly I felt like I was on a journalistic assignment. Like I had to seek out the wildest and wackiest stories Metalcamp 2012 had to offer and dutifully report them to the 17 people hardcore enough to have read every single episode of last year’s series.

Yes, that’s how famous Adrian Acton wants to be. He wants at least 17 people to see his name on their screens. 17 people who probably all have his name in the contacts list of their phones. Read the rest of this entry »

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Metalcamp 2011: Blind Guardian are fucking awful

Ash, my Metalcamp companion (that’s him up there), is my friend. I like him, he likes me. We get along.

For this reason it’s with a heavy heart and melancholy spirit that I must signal a permanent end to our friendship. Once he reads this post, that’s it… all over. He’ll never speak to me again. But it’s no good, I have to say what I feel.

There’s a long gap of several hours between the end of Powerwolf and the beginning of today’s headline set from Blind Guardian, and during that long wait, Ash gets in a bit of a mood. He’s sullen, distant and crotchety, and I know exactly what he’s going through. Blind Guardian is the band he’s here for and now the time is close, it feel like it’s taking forever. I was in a similar state on the day Manowar played here last year. Read the rest of this entry »

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Metalcamp 2011: HU! HA!

Powerwolf are one band that both Ash want to see. Neither of us knows much about them though. The main draw, for me at least, is their name. It has everything you could want from a metal band name – power and wolves. That’s kind of like the band naming equivalent of a meal of bacon and ham.

We head for the main stage about fifteen minutes before they’re due on and it doesn’t seem like many Metalcampers are as interested as we are. Maybe they’re no good? I do see an encouraging sign though – among the people that are here waiting for Powerwolf the ratio of Manowar T-shirts is noticeably high.

I also spot a couple of people wearing Powerwolf T-shirts, emblazoned on the back with the slogan ‘METAL IS RELIGION’. Brilliant. I have the feeling I’m going to enjoy this… and I’m right. Read the rest of this entry »

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Metalcamp 2011: The calm before the storm

After several hours of side-splitting hilarity, The Poo Game finally winds down to a close and, as a reward for staying up all night laughing at the word ‘poo’, dawn brings us the still, serene vista pictured above. I bid my metal chums farewell and giggle my way back to camp to snatch a few hours sleep before it gets too hot, but actually it doesn’t get that hot because today is something I’ve never seen at Metalcamp before – a cloudy day.

I don’t sleep for long anyway, and when I get up I am greeted by a sight that’s nearly as funny as The Poo Game. You remember Nick, right? You know, Captain Canada. Yeah, him. Well, I see him running.

Now, we’re camped on a slope at the edge of the camp site so we get a good vantage point from which we can see much of the campsite, and I spot Nick running along the main track towards the main festival area from some distance away. What’s funny is that he’s now wearing not just one, but two capes – his original Captain Canada cape and a Lasko beer flag he’s probably stolen from somewhere – and that he runs exactly like 13:52 in this video… Read the rest of this entry »

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Metalcamp 2011: The Poo Game

SPOILER ALERT: The following article is about how I played The Poo Game with my friends at the Metalcamp Beach Bar after Slayer, Watain and Milking The Goat Machine. The Poo Game is very funny (the pic above is of Will and Peter literally collapsing with laughter from playing it), but it can only really be played properly once in a lifetime. If you wish to play The Poo Game in its purest form, read the section marked ‘Poo Game Instructions’ below then wait to play it until you are in the company of drunk friends before playing it. Do not continue beyond that section if you wish to discover The Poo Game’s delights for yourself. Read the rest of this entry »

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Metalcamp 2011: Point is where all die

When I returned to work after Metalcamp, the moment I walked through the office door my boss came right up to me and said, “Gav, show me your eyes.” I just stood there while he looked at them. Why did he want to see my eyes?

Ash had arrived at work before me and when everyone had seen his black eye, they’d decided we must have had a fight at some point during our holiday – there may even have been wagers riding on it. But my eyes were fine. And it wasn’t me that gave Ash a black eye…

It was Slayer. Read the rest of this entry »

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