One of the Arctangent's beauties is the way that the stages are scheduled. On one side of the site the Arc and Bixlar stages alternate, as do the Yokhai and PX3 stages on the other side. It's all exquisitely organised so that if you are suitably focused you can see around 15 bands in one day, without any clashes and without walking far at all. Our journey through Thursday starts with Traps on the PX3 stage. As they allegedly feature members of sludge overlords OHHMS we were expecting something low, dark and doomy. Instead, what we get is something distinctly sharper, precise and dare I say breezy. The distorted riffs have been swapped for searing angular ones. It's still all rather pleasurably scuzzy, but there is a level of urgency that you never found in their other band. Chainy Rabbit seems particularly to be enjoying the freedom that this new venture gives him. He is very much a dynamo this morning, clambering over and up any structure he can get his hands on. An intriguing collision of improvisation and rigid structure, Traps seem very happy in bringing their chaos to a genre that can be very rigid.

The interchanging stages mean I have no more than five steps to make to reach my next destination in Yokhai. It feels that The Hyena Kill have been around for a good while, this is probably because they've been kicking around the Manchester scene for several years. Theirs’ is an emotive take on alt-rock that feels equally inspired by grunge and post-hardcore. It very much feels like Stephen Dobb is battling his demons live on stage and letting us into his own private world of pain. Whilst his vocals do recall the Deftones in numerous places, his delivery is still unique enough to make this feel suitably different to anything else out there. Slow (in places lethargic) but also bristling with pathos and reflection, the point where their tracks really do come alive is when Sam Jones’ guitar kicks in. It almost feels like you have been dragged out of deep water and suddenly exposed to the open air. Passionate and vibrant, you very much get the feeling that they have left everything on that stage.

A quick shortcut through the Elephant in the Room tent (I do feel for the bands playing in there, as it operates more as a bypass than a venue) takes us to the other side of the site and the first visit to the main Arc stage for another up-and-coming Manc institution. With an ever-changing roster of members, Pijn is more a collective than a band. They take the post-metal/rock template and give it a much more organic feel. There are still soaring soundscapes aplenty, but the sound is more introspective and maudlin than others operating in the same sandbox. The added fiddle gives it a sombre and even morose element that juxtapositions the surging guitar. There is plenty of hair on the back of your neck moments, but it all feels grounded, like they want to reach orbit but are very much tethered to the earth below. Startling and sumptuous, there is something wonderfully Mancunian about their refrained take on a usually bombastic genre.

It goes without saying that DVNE had a stonker in 2021. At the start of the year, nobody knew who they were, but by the end, they had filled the room at Damnation faster than any other band before them, played a rapturously received tour with Bossk and had racked up plenty of album of the year plaudits. By comparison 2022 has been relatively quiet for them and it's fantastic to watch them emerge from hibernation. With DVNE there is so much depth to their material that you feel like you are watching them play three songs simultaneously. The synths provide the rhythmic backbone for what they're doing, which allows the drums and the bass to wander off and do their own things. This adds layers of intricate texture in which as a listener you become lost within. There is something sumptuous and almost luxurious about their sonic adventures. They allow space for the sound to grow, evolve and ultimately become one with the audience. It is all incredibly complex but, and this is the important point, it is produced with such ease that it doesn't feel that way. It was obviously difficult to produce it doesn't feel like difficult music. Instead, it comes across as accessible and, in many places, joyous. What they have created so far is nothing short of spectacular, but the most exciting thing is wondering what happens next.

AA Williams creates dark, heart-breaking music that may not be intrinsically metal, but certainly skirts around its borders. In many ways, it's goth reinvented for a more emotionally astute generation. It is one of those shows where you could, if you so wanted, hear a pin drop. The main Arc tent is packed to the gills but there is a reverential tone as we all stand listening with hushed intensity. Equally bewitching and ethereal, there is something deeply meditative about her material. It is built in such a way as it sweeps over you, allowing you to become engulfed by its evocative melodrama. It is deeply emotive but also in places very minimal. You always feel she's holding something back, restraining from fully revealing her soul. There is something deeply mysterious about it, is not confessional and you're not getting all the story but what we do experience is deeply compelling and affecting. 

Alex Williams is such a world builder that you do feel slightly discombobulated when you come back out blinking into the sunshine. In fact, hers is such a complete universe it feels distinctly at odds with the almost pop-like ascetics of Puppy. Kurt Cobain used to make a big thing about being a Cheap Trick fanboy but that adoration only really makes sense when seen through the prism of Puppy. You see what they do is take the crunch of grunge and combine it with pure bubblegum pop. This is two-part harmonies sitting in perfect alignment with fuzzy guitars. Like all good pop, this is all about the song and Puppy have nailed the art of three minutes wonders. Breezy, infectious but also carrying a considerable wallop, their material is clever but also insanely catchy. It's one of those sets you lose yourself in and when their time is up everybody (aside from the over-officious soundman) wants more. They strike into the final tune but are incredulously caught short as the plug is unceremoniously pulled on them. Boos that ring out show that the occupants of the tent are not impressed.

Arctangent is categorically not a metal festival though the metal is never far from hand. Cryptic Shift are probably one of the more traditionally "metal" bands on offer. They are a thrash band with added Dream Theater. The riffs are searing and scarring but in the middle of it are the sections that are almost lilting and reflective. It's all about contrast, the introspective interludes balancing with Xander Bradley’s harsh vocals. For a late addition to the bill they very much hold their own.

Imperial Triumphant are all about pomp and circumstance. They look terrific in massive gold masks, like some Inca Gods who have descended from the spiritual plane. Sadly, it all turns out to be a bit fur coat no knickers as their performance struggles to match the persona. Vocals are non-existent for most of the first track, and it is very obvious that there are more guitars in the mix than can be actually seen on stage. There is lots of ham acting but it never quite connects. What should be (pardon the pun) triumphant turns out to be rather a damp squib.

Apparently, Carpenter Brut received a distinctly cold reception when they played the last Arctangent before the blip. Well, what a difference two years make as Pertubator (James Kent, son of legendary NME journalist Nick Kent) is treated as a homecoming hero. I'm not sure whether the demographics of the festival have changed or whether in the intervening time Darkwave has been welcomed into our fraternity. The best way to describe what James is doing is essentially Underworld playing 80’s American TV themes. There is a rave element here, but in a very retro synth sort of way. In fact, they probably are more influenced by John Carpenter than by Kraftwerk. For a man just pressing buttons, he possesses an amazing stage presence and with the gigantic flashing pentagram, the whole thing becomes a visual feast. As a distinct right angle to anything else on offer, Pertubator still manages to go down at an absolute storm.

Alcest are quintessentially Arctangent material. Sonic soundscapes that launch themselves into the dusk. Even saying that tonight is stunning is doing them an injustice, because they are always stunning. They create music that is evocative and full of emotional resonance. Everything is just so beautifully rendered; the notes are perfect and the vocals spine-tinglingly ethereal. This is black metal completely deconstructed and re-rendered as a thing of immense beauty.

There is also beauty to what Amenra are doing but in a much more brutal and ugly way. This is pissed-off post-metal, with the waves of noise used to articulate the band’s dissatisfaction with modern life and society. It is an immense and rather disconcerting experience, the sonic equivalent of sticking your head into a food blender. That feeling of disconnection and disenfranchisement is ratcheted up by the fact that Colin H. van Eeckhout spends his entire time with his back to the audience. He screams his disquiet at the monochrome images flash up on the screen behind them and at times it feels more like performance-art than an actual band. However, for all those feelings of detachment, they are still utterly compelling. Enjoyment may well be stretching the point, but all the same, they produce a set that is very hard to forget.

There is much more buoyancy and, to be honest, joy to be found in the long-awaited reappearance of Maybeshewill. Arctangent 2020 was meant to be their triumphant return from enforced hiatus, however, the small matter of a global pandemic put paid to that. So, two years later this is a slight misnomer of a reunion as they've already been around the UK number of times. Having said that they are still very much treated as returning heroes. Maybeshewill’s brand post-rock is altogether happier and more optimistic than the variant provided by other purveyors of this art.

They create wave after wave of joyous sonic ecstasy. There is something wonderfully rapturous about how the music builds in both tempo and temperance. There are great crescendos of sparkling melodic highs that crash against the audience. What makes them so enthralling is the humility with which they do all this. They are creating great cathedrals of sound, but you can tell they are still rather chuffed that anybody has bothered to come to watch them. Maybeshewill obviously mean an awful lot to the people watching them (plenty of tears are shed, and not just by me) but the audience seems to also mean a huge amount to Maybeshewill. This is not a band taking anything for granted, they are as equally euphoric about the occasion as those stretched out in front of them and it is that euphoria that bleeds into the wonderfulness of the music created. By far the set of the day and maybe even the weekend.

But we have Cult of Luna to go and to prove that they deserve their headline status, they have pulled out all the stops production-wise. The band are silhouetted in an orange glow, shrouded in billows of smoke. They scream out of the traps with ‘Cold Burn’ from this year’s quite stunning “The Long Road North”. You can hardly see the band, but you can feel the shockwaves of power that tumble off the stage. This is one of those sets that immerses you in a quagmire of spiralling sound. They may be barely visible but you just can't take your eyes off them as they create these great chunks of harmonious distortion.

We are treated to a whistlestop tour through the last four albums (only putting aside sadly their astonishing collaboration with Julia Christmas). Whilst it is nearly 10 years since they released “Vertikal”, ‘I: The Weapon’ and ‘In Awe Of’ still sound unworldly and like products of their own unique universe. At the time I described them as deconstructed Death Metal and I still stand by this. The venom and the vitality of that genre runs through the tracks, but there is much more time and space for the riffs to breathe.

An hour and a half of our lives disappear in a heartbeat. It very much feels that no sooner have they started than we reach ‘Blood Upon Stone’ (the band deciding to finish the set where we started, namely their new record). Whilst every track seems to culminate in a crushing crescendo, for their final act everything is ratcheted up to way beyond eleven. As they bring things to a hurtling conclusion you can feel the pounding beats in your heart. An absolutely stunning way to round off an absolutely stunning day of music.