ROADBURN 2010 DAY ONE: UNEARTHING THE MEMORIES

Never has the phrase Portents Of Doom ever been so apt. We all know Roadburn is an earth-shattering event but coming off the plane (thank god we got the early one) in Eindhoven we didn't expect to get calls from friends asking if we'd made it. The Festibubble had already set in, I was miles from home, in another country, mentally preparing myself for 5 days of my favourite festival and we were getting word that the world was ending, that a volcano had erupted AND that Pete Steele had died (connection between the two not confirmed at time of writing). With no newspapers and no access to TV news, we stood, jaws on floor, taking in the craziness of the situation and then shrugged, settled in for a coffee at The Grass Co and planned what bands we would see over the 4 amazing days that Walter, Jurgen and the Roadburn crew had arranged for us.
It was only when we recovened to the strip, Tilburg's amazing row of bars, to sit in the sun and move onto something stronger that the impact of the Volcano started to dawn on us. I first got a call from Yvonne, Roadburn's PR and my most awesome friend, to tell me she'd be late to meet me for lunch as she was stressing about how some of the stranded bands would make it. Wow, now this is serious. Who was here? Who was stuck? This was the buzz around the bar, as we sat there with friends old and new from Greg and Steve from Sunn, Chris from Profound Lore, Enslaved. That's the best thing about Roadburn. That you can settle in for a bevvy and be sat in the same bar as your musical heroes - no distinction between artists and fans. No backstage egos.
I hooked up with my friend Bidi and Arve and Herbrand from Enslaved and headed over to the Midi Theatre, a new venue in Tilburg that had been added to the Roadburn experience. It was open for press and artists to grab a beer, some food and catch up before the madness started. We got word that Enslaved's manager, the amazing Tonje, as she will now be known, was running around ordering nightliners top travel all 20 hours to ensure bands like Trinicria and Sarke didn't miss their set, and we knew that most of the British acts were hiring cars and making it over somehow, anyhow.
With an early start and my mind full of volcano gloom I needed to have a serious wake-up call and that came thanks to Kylesa, first band of the weekend, and boy, it was spot on. They shook me awake and sent me hurling into the void that is Roadburn, where the rest of world no longer matters.
The worst thing about Roadburn are all the clashes, it's impossible to see everything and the best thing I learnt from previous years is not too plan a schedule. Wander into rooms and watch band you didn't expect to see, miss bands you really wanted to check out, just take it all in, and that's what I did this year. It's a shame I couldn't see Russian Circles and Ancestor as they played the same time as Kylesa, and I wanted to see Shining play over in the Midi Theatre but I got so transfixed by Jarboe that I couldn't move. Backed by Eric from Cobalt on drums I was taken away to some ancient Sumerian rite, she is a true Goddess.

I had to take some time to recover from that transcendant experience, which meant I was a bit late for The Wounded Kings and could hardly get in their room, it was totally rammed for the Dorset doom crew. Luckily I barged my way to the front to get a full-frontal assault of heavy riffage, just before weaving my way through Bong's room (trippy as fuck) to make it back into the main room for Yob. I'd just met Mike while chatting to Chris and Eric and promised I would check out his set as he'd promised some blissed out, mind-melting doom for part 1 of his Roadburn onslaught (part 2 of his set a few days later at The Midi was due to be the loudest, heaviest set ever!). He didn't disappoint.
At this point I needed to take 5 and soak in the crazy day thus far so Terrorizer writer Olivier and I grabbed some food with the TWK dudes and missed EyeHateGod, well most of it and managed to see just a bit of Eagle Twin and Magnus Pelander from Witchcraft's solo set before taking place, right at the front for Enslaved, the Artists In Residence, who would play 3 more times in different guises.


As always they didn't let us down and put me on the top of the world. Now buzzing off the vibe of this incredible fest I got lured into harmonica heaven to watch Goatsnake, flitted between rooms to check out Bill Steer's Firebird and ended up dancing my ass off at Orange Goblin's metal disco before staying up until 8am, something that would become a habit, at my friend Yvonne's house.