And so onto the extra day, essentially a heavy metal take on the leap year. Thursday is a full additional twenty four hours of metal on all stages bar the main one. The lack of big big draws means that the day is one of exploration as we are given the opportunity to try and test many of the exceptional home grown talent that haunt small venues across the breadth of the country. Sophie Lancaster tent opener Mother Vulture turn out not to be Mother Vulture at all and instead much fancied West Midlander’s Fury (though not the Chris and Luke Appleton fronted Fury UK). They capture the rampant need to sing along and punch the air and provide half an hour of melodic heavy rock that majors on massive choruses and soaring riffs. Yes there is nothing original or boundary breaking here, but it so well delivered that you forgive them any level of plagiarism.

There is such a buzz around Tortured Demon that getting within the same postcode of the Jägermeister stage is a mission. There are expectant bodies as far as the eye can see. At the core of this human ant hill are three mid-teens playing blistering thrash metal. What they produce is vibrant pounding riff driven metal that combines groove with brutal intensity. If the band were a bunch of grizzled old pros that had been round the block a dozen odd times we would be singing the praises to the heavens. But they are not. They are a bunch of secondary school kids. I hadn’t mastered how to tie my own shoe laces at that age, let alone worked out how to turn a guitar into a weapon of mass destruction. 

They are simply and unequivocally sensational. If they are this good now, when essentially only a few years ago they thought CBeebies was the height of sophistication, imagine what they will be like in ten years, five years, even two years’ time. They have a raw untamed talent that just burns off the stage and everyone rammed into the tent knows that they are witnessing something very very special. When they headline Download, we will be able tell the kids in their Tortured Demon t-shirts “I remember when they opened the smallest stage at Bloodstock”.

Back to the Sophie for Ashen Crown who are harsh and shouty. There is not a lot of subtlety to what they do but they do it well. Luna’s Call bring the sophistication in buckets. They may all be in their early teens but if you shut your eyes and let the waves of luscious prog wash over you, they sound like a band that has been at this for decades. Musically, this is a magical endeavour in the power of juxtaposition. There is brittle coarse vocals and crushing buzz saw guitars but they give way to gorgeous fragile passages that just make your heart weep. Sumptuous and stunning in equal measures. Urne keep up the originality. They have managed to find a sweet spot in heaviness that combines melody with power. Their material retains metal’s driving force interlaced with the most awe inspiring level of accessibility. It feels ambitious and other worldly, like they have decided that there is more to this than just being loud and unruly. Talking about loud and unruly, Seething Akira bring the techniccolour anarchy to Bloodstock. Like the bastard child of Scooter and Carcass, they are a head rush of pulsating dance and grinding guitars. Their biggest asset is that they are SO MUCH FUN. It is bounce city from start to finish, its like someone has spiked the ale with a ecstasy tablet whose effects only last for the duration of Seething Akira’s set.

It' is back to business, sort as normal for Forlorn World. They are Josh McMorran’s of Bloodshot Dawn’s other band however due to Covid and other boring reasons they seem to include all the current incumbent Bloodshot Dawn members. Josh knows what is what with melodic death metal and we get a masterclass in big choruses and blinding guitars. It all feels anthemic and widescreen and in its wake Famyne just feel all rather  dull (sorry guys). I love stoner, I love doom and I love every other influence that they are trying to chuck in the pot. It just all seems to cancel each other out and we end up with a band that sounds, frankly, a little dreary. The Crawling however are anything but dull. They bring the fire (they have obviously raided the pyro box that says Devin Townsend only), they bring the stage presence and they bring the tunes. Whereas Famyne felt monotone (sorry lads), The Crawling create music that has great contours and sprawling plains. It just all feels gigantic and epic. Yes there is a doom element here, but it very much stadium doom. Over in the New Blood stage Ghosts of Men are jumping up and down on expectations and single handily decimate any envelope that they can find. This is alt metal, this is none metal and this is full on bloodthirsty metal. All at the same bloody time.  Mind bending, genre destroying and just plain awesome.

I return to the Sophie stage to find that I a) cant get in and that b) someone is on stage doing a cover of Offspring covering “Let It Go” from Frozen. Yes, it’s supersub Punk Rock Party. The heaving tent seems to enjoy the very single daft cover but from outside the tent it all feels all a little pointless. And so to the headliner, Oh Crickey it’s Lawnmower Deth. Branded a one trick pony back in the late eighties, thirty years later they are still here, still having a laugh and (whisper this) have actually got some cracking new tunes to boot. The great thing about Lawnmower Deth is that they aren’t taking the piss out of music (like other parody bands we could mention). They love thrash and that love comes through in spades. However they are using that love to be silly and that silliness is infectious. If you told me beforehand I would sit through an hour and a half Lawnmower Deth headline set, I would have laughed, chuckling that forty minutes at download was my fill. But their sheer love of life pulls it through. This is a band loving what they do and that makes the whole thing work.