Loud Park 10 – 16/10/10 - Saitama Super Arena, Tokyo, Japan [PART 1]
5/5
By: James Faherty
Loud Park has become known as the last of the big summer festivals: where everywhere else in the festival world it’s cold and drizzly, in Tokyo, Japan it’s sunny and a pleasant 22˚C. The leaves are starting to turn a deep crimson, but their vibrancy is being blotted out by a dark storm cloud on the horizon: swathes of metallers clad in black, swarming Tokyo’s ubiquitous noodle soup of intertwining train lines, all making their way towards the gargantuan Saitama Super Arena for this year’s two-day metal-fest.
Past years have seen the biggest names in metal headline here, and upon arrival it becomes clear why: the arena is huge and labyrinthine but there is an army of staff to politely usher you in the right direction (often where language fails, sign language works just as well!); all the action is concentrated in the centre of the arena, on two stages side by side, separated by a wall with the world’s biggest HD plasma screen on it, broadcasting all the close-up action live throughout the festival (Yes! Thank you Japan for your wanton application of technical savvy).
The bands alternate from stage to stage, i.e. when one band is performing on one stage, the next band is gearing up and surreptitiously soundchecking on the other, meaning that the wait between seeing bands is rarely more than 5 minutes. In a world where we are being taught more & more to cut back on waste, Japan (or at the very least Saitama Super Arena) is at the forefront of excellent time management. There are dozens of food & drink stalls dotted around the arena, and due to Japan’s ruthless recycling policy, absolutely every scrap of waste has its own recycling bin: lids, cups, straws, wooden skewers, leftover meat… hell, even ice cubes get their own bin (though I’m not sure how exactly one ‘recycles’ an ice cube).
The two stages, Ultimate Stage and Big Rock Stage aren’t overly massive, and are certainly smaller than some of the headline acts are used to playing, but they are perfect for the arena. From every seat in the hall you get a decent view of both, and of course, for the diehard fans who like to get up close & personal, there is a sweaty mosh pit in front of each stage.
[CHTHONIC]
The Japanese social culture is rather paradoxical, in that while they may appear to be the most humble, polite and courteous race in the world, give them a medium (or a mosh pit) to vent their spleen and they will go absolutely barmy from start to finish. Even at lunchtime on an otherwise sleepy Saturday, shortly after Taiwanese black-metallers Chthonic take the stage, the Japanese fans are busy creating indoor whirlwinds with a circle-pit that has the power of one of those bagless Dyson vacuum cleaners. I manage to avoid being sucked into the centrifugal vortex and am surprised to see just four members onstage: on record Chthonic (pronounced ‘thonic’, as in gin & thoni… oh wait, no) have a belligerent, symphonic sound which live is recreated using backing tapes. I look around for keyboardists, strings sections etc but find nothing. I guess the recession must’ve hit their ‘Session Musician Fund’ as hard as it hit the banks in the West. The band have come under scrutiny for being mere Asian Cradle of Filth clones (which, to be brutally honest, they are) but the one thing that differentiates them from the British hellraisers is the use of traditional Taiwanese and Chinese instrumentation, namely the erhu, a type of two-stringed Chinese violin. Sure enough, vocalist Freddy ‘Left Face of Maradou’ (!) Lim whips it out on ’49 Theurgy Chains’ and has a fiddle. Mutual appreciation of minxy pint-sized bassist Doris ‘Thunder Tears’ is also palpable. After shrieking through ‘Bloody Gaya Fulfilled’, ‘Eye of Retribution’ and closing with a storming ‘Quasi-Putrefaction’, I am thoroughly put off my lunch and need a break.
[AMON AMARTH]
No such luck, as a few minutes later, the Ultimate Stage is covered in hair, which means Viking metallers Amon Amarth have anchored up. The band thunder into ‘Twilight of the Thunder God’ (how appropriate), and any under-14s in the arena have probably shat themselves in fear of frontman Johan Hegg immense size, booming voice and truly feral facial hair. For a band that is mostly beard they make a good racket, melding wholesome slabs of riff, well-placed solos and ancient tales of Viking folklore. The band’s fanbase seems just as enthralled by the inherent fantasy elements as the music itself, which is indicative of the escapist tendencies of the Japanese. Outside of heavy metal there are people who become grossly obsessed with manga comics, kooky fashion, computer games etc and the attraction of fantasy-themed heavy music is no different. The band plough beard-first into ‘Runestones To My Memory’ and ‘The City of the Black Birds’, and all too soon it’s over, and time for Edguy‘s turn.
[EDGUY]
If Loud Park was a party (which it kind of is), then German speed-metallers Edguy would be the platter of sausage rolls, breadsticks and plenty of cheese on a stick (pineapple optional). They are old hands on the Japan scene, and within minutes whip the crowd up into a frenzied but friendly shouting match from side to side. The band look totally at ease on stage, and their professionalism cannot be faulted, even though most of the band members are starting to look like Rick Wakeman. Belting out old faves ‘Mysterious’ and ‘Superheroes’, even the stodgiest of fans can’t help but nod their heads… Edguy are so dynamic… so upbeat… so continento-metal! One question needs to be asked though… is air guitaring with the mic stand still cool? Whatever, Tobias Sammet does it anyway!
[RATT]
From middle-aged metal to truly prehistoric rock, it’s a wonder to see RATT onstage without wheelchairs or Zimmer frames. It’s been about 20 years since they played in Japan, and they state their intent with ‘Back For More’, although where they’re back from nobody seems to know or care, except for a handful of crusty-lovers squidged up at the front. Truth be told, RATT have a very solid fan base, as advertising and subsequent sales of their recent comeback album ‘Infestation’ have shown. But the live arena is a different beast to tame, and lead singer Stephen Pearcy’s voice is not strong enough to carry the rest of the band, and they fall into a bit of a mousetrap. Also, men over a certain age should not wear eyeliner. It does not make you any less ugly.
Back-to-back fogies (with RATT); it’s more Euro-metal with Accept. But where RATT sounded redundant, Accept sound raucous; where RATT was paunchy, Accept are punchy. Accept love playing heavy metal. You can see it positively beaming from their faces all throughout the show. The highly-charged band thrash their way through a meaty set, with no time to chat to the crowd, relative newcomer vocalist Mark Tornillo instead content with stalking the stage looking like a sweaty Crocodile Dundee in spray-on leather trousers. He sounds like one of those annoying internet hamsters circa 1996 (yes, the memories still haunt me today) but oddly it works. During ‘Metal Heart’ the spotlight shifts and both guitarists are given a chance to noodle all over the stage – this is a band who clearly feed off each others’ energy and as far as live shows go, they push it to the max. When they finally unveil their classic ‘Balls To The Wall’, the crowd erupt in nostalgic ecstasy. A winning combo.
Unfortunately I went to get a sushi roll when Stone Sour came onstage so I didn’t get to see Corey Taylor looking like a fat Patrick Kielty jumping around the stage like an angry chav, or hear his cringeworthy and patronising stage-banter, but down the hallway I could hear the echoes of songs off their new album ‘Audio Secrecy’ and it sounded like the same stale old shit, so I made no rush to get back. Wasabi!
[HALFORD]
Just after tea-time, it’s time for a bit of a legend to perform. Just a few years ago, Rob Halford used to be known as ‘that guy who used to be in Judas Priest’, but since then he has been busy touring as Halford, putting out some solo material which has proved just as popular as stuff from the Priest days. Their sound is pure heavy metal from the roots, and the band interlace old Judas Priest songs with Halford’s own stuff, material from even earlier incarnations, and even some cheeky covers (‘Diamonds in Lust’). Despite having the oddest shaped head in metal, Rob Halford exudes a British charm and affability that is hard to resist. Mr Halford selects for us a hand-picked setlist, including super-old ‘Fire & Ice’, crowd-pleaser ‘Nailed To The Gun’, but omitting Priest’s most recognisable song, ‘Breaking the Law’. Amidst the beer bellies and crummy tattoos, there is an awesome rock band who were arguably the first to put British metal on top. A true jewel in the metal crown.
KoRn was the first ‘big band’ I ever went to see. They played at Wembley Arena, with P.O.D. in support, I seem to remember having a chain around my neck and black nail varnish on, and I bought an overpriced fake t-shirt from a dodgy dealer outside after the show. The year was 1998, I was 12 years old (so you can forgive the nail varnish). Back then heavy metal was just starting a new cyclical phase not to last more than a few intense, popular but ultimately brief years: nu-metal. KoRn are the undisputed forefathers, creators, harbingers of this plague-like atrocity on the world. And for all the tens, perhaps hundreds of bands who have fallen off the nu-metal radar, KoRn, remarkably, have managed to stay afloat, not just that but gain in popularity with each consecutive release. So actually it’s no surprise that they’ve been chosen to headline this year’s Loud Park festival, with (judging by the number of ‘KoRn’ t-shirts anyway) a massive Japanese fan base. For me personally, it’s a chance to revisit that momentous night in 1998; to compare and contrast a band who had just hit the peak of their initial popularity and fame, to a band who are still riding high on the plateau of mainstream success.
[KORN]
By the time the lights dim and the eerie rumble of the intro tape kicks in, the arena is almost completely watertight with black t-shirts, black jeans and black hair (naturally, except for the handful of honkies dotted around, or the daring few Japanese who bleached their mops). A huge roar erupts as Munky and Fieldy, both dressed in rather dapper white suits, adorned with white face paint, slowly wander on stage. The band break into ‘This Broken Soul’ and just before his voice is needed, Jonathan Davis creeps onstage in his trademark Adidas tracksuit, as if he’d literally come straight from the trailer park. I remember seeing KoRn on telly all tubby and blinged up in that grotesque ‘Mtv Cribs’ way that so often happens to our dear beloved rock stars of today, but tonight’s KoRn is a leaner, meaner reincarnation; a band with the spit, bile & groove of the early days. The perpetually twitching, scowling Davis swaggers across the stage with a demonic schizophrenic demeanour. If I was his mum I’d be quite concerned and probably double check the dosage of Calpol he was getting. Old and new songs get an airing: ‘Need To’, ‘Did My Time’, a great re-working of ‘Falling Away From Me’ with soft piano intro and slow-mo ending. Since founding guitarist Brian ‘Head’ Welch’s most public departing from the band, then drummer David Silveria soon after, the band have yet to find a full-time replacement guitarist. Tonight however, there is a second guitarist, although he is kept strictly in shadow for the entire show. Whether this is to protect his identity, or merely give madcap drummer Ray Luzier more spotlight is beyond me, but if it’s the latter then it’s hardly needed. Throughout the entire show he fizzles like a firecracker, tongue darting in and out of this mouth during fills, mad eyes unable to fix on one point. He fits the band’s schizophrenic persona perfectly and you can’t help but wonder where he’d been hiding since KoRn’s inception. After a truly unnecessary bass solo (we love you Fieldy, but you’re a hopeless bassist) and corresponding drum solo, I’m left wondering if this is still the same KoRn I saw all those years ago… solos, costume changes… I’m half expecting the drum kit to ascend on a riser and Jonathan Davis to fly, Gene Simmons-style over the heads of the audience. Fortunately it doesn’t happen. After a similarly unnecessary Pink Floyd cover of ‘The Wall’, we hear that familiar ting-ting-ting-ting intro, cemented by Davis’ guttural “Aaarrre youuu rrrready??!”, and at once the entire arena is jumping up and down. For the encore Davis returns wearing his clan kilt, squeezing a fat bagpipe (the instrument, not a groupie) which means it’s time to hear the twisted nursery rhyme of ‘Shoots & Ladders’ which segues into a killer cover of Metallica’s ‘One’. We are left with an incendiary ‘Clown’ and some truly heartfelt words from Davis who by this point has tears of genuine emotion in his eyes (public catharsis really takes it out of you… so does public bagpipe playing apparently). Well KoRn, I doubted you, and I was foolish. You’ve still got it, every vitriol-filled vein of it.
Artists in this article: Chthonic, Amon Amarth, Edguy, RATT, Accept, Halford, Korn
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