Embarking on an evening of dark bewitchment, Rebellion Manchester hosts four enthralling metal bands with Romanian rockers Bucovina at the helm. The essence of the night is Folk Metal, with mystical melodics taking centrestage, charming medieval quirks, and the undeniable stench of the Scandinavian metal spirit, blackening the night.

The venue begins to resemble a Middle Age tavern, the earthy scent of beer clings in the air, with gentlemen reminiscent of extras on the set of Vikings, jolly and jeering, excited for the stacked show of full-throttle blackened folk. There’s a mysteriousness to the crowd, muttering in their own languages, clearly the European element of the lineup has brought forth its brethren. Poles, Swedes, a mighty Hungarian and German fans fill the smoky beer garden as soundcheck wraps up.

Countless Skies break to the stage first, a familiar troupe for any Bloodstock Festival attendee, and a guaranteed enriching experience for any fan of metal, with their copious and conspicuous inspirations. A truly captivating performance, with multi-layered instrumentals that almost felt enchanting, whilst frontman Ross King boasts an empowering vocal belts. The NWOBHM influence is starkly prevalent in this British band, no matter how deeply they delve into the Scandinavian melodic genre.

The band have had Paganistic themes throughout their albums, a harmonic addition to the lineup that really sets the tone for the evening. The ritualistic lyrical chanting lulls the crowd into a steady headbang. The craftsmanship of the tracks are ingenious, akin to the production quality of a modern era Devin Townsend song, swelling with orchestral crescendo, vocals clear and epic, taking you on a bespoke journey with their music.

Firtan are next up on the bill, swarming the stage like locusts, faces smeared with black paint and eyes wild. The band are energetic in contrast to their corpse-like attire, throwing their necks and reshuffling the stances so each side of the stage can witness the entrancing Klara Bachmair spinning around like a macabre marionette whilst making those violin strings squeal. The darkly whimsical performance is punctuated with forceful riffs, with a harsh blend of folk metal against extreme Germanic stylings.

Soaked in blood-red lightning, the German five piece storm through their set, forceful and eldrich, with ambient breaks in the barrage, allowing melancholic melodies to titillate the crowd, before brutal vocalist Phillip Thienger resumes his aggressive tirade of unrelenting screams. Demonstrating an awareness of showmanship and performance craft, the rest of the band vacate the stage for their final moments, yet again giving Klara centrestage as she makes her violin cry out the outro of their zestful performance.

Finsterforst, the first but not last of the bands on tonight with the name being a direct reference to the homeland of the members, exude a demanding Germanic pride as soon as they take to the stage. A dynamic and compelling ensemble, these hard-hitting heavies are very independent to their contemporaries, a motley assortment of rarer instruments with a broad spectrum of vocal styles and genre tricks they’ve picked up from their twenty year run.

Black metal is intricately interlaced with an eclectic performance, given the intense vocals from the chorus of musicians and the galloping guitars. Adopting the all too-familiar soundscape of classic heavy metal as a backdrop, Finsterforst stud their songs with groaning black metal vocals, severe, speedy drumming and a touch of whimsy with bagpipes and tin whistles in the backing tracks. The blend is alluringly delightful, entertaining yet powerfully raw.

The sound of Finsterforst is best summarised by their crowd-pleasing final track, ‘Mach Dich Frei!’. Announced in a bawling bellow, fans so eloquently sing the lyrics back to the band, clearly anticipating this thrilling anthem. Fists assault the smoke-fogged atmosphere churning on stage in an adoring final spur to send the band off with a passionate farewell.

Finsterforst quickly evacuated the stage in the wake of the crowd's obvious hunger for the Romanian juggernauts. Highly anticipated, the chants ring out "Bucovina”, the middle of the crowd parts in eager excitement for some brutalised black metal. Exploding onto the scene with the energy expected from seasoned performers, Jorge Augusto Coan really came out of the gate hot, the booming bassline loosening shoulders and hips as the pit begins to roil.

We are treated to enchanting guitar solos and harmonies from Bogdan Luparu, decorated with his harrowing vocals, blending seamlessly with Florin ‘Crivǎt’ Tibu’s gruff growls, plunging the room into the thralls of ghastly Romanian mythos. The crowd are feral, losing their t-shirts as they will soon their voices, pumping fists and thrashing their heads. A few dedicated fans hold up the Romanian flag, proud and enthused. The pit gets a little too rowdy, prompting Crivǎt to warn the crowd to “Chill. Let’s just enjoy some Metal.”

The devotion to their craft is palpable, and the overwhelming appreciation and passion from the band is infectious. The front row becomes a picket fence of raised fists and horns, the grooving bass the threadline of sustained energy from both the band and the crowd. Crivǎt’s frontman glory comes to a dazzling peak during the last couple songs, grasping hands with the devoted fans taking a break from the pummelling of the pit to gaze up against diffused blue lights at the grinning effigy of a warped Father Christmas in a black metal t-shirt.

Luparu and Coan take to the classic foot-on-amp stance to bring home the show, slapping bass, banging heads and roaring. The final squeals of the guitars ring out, and the thump of the drums dulls like a slowing heartbeat. Thunderous applause of a Midgardian magnitude erupts, and the band’s stoic faces split with exhilarated smiles. Bucovina thank us, remind us that this is the first time in our country since their inception over twenty years ago, and leave the brightening stage, handing out picks and handshakes to outstretched hands.

In true Rebellion fashion, the bands all gather at the merch tables, chests heaving from their energetic deliverance, but still smiling. Every band had time for the crowd, clearly appreciative of the support, and enjoying what is perhaps very new and exciting to many of the musicians tonight. Unlike most O2 gigs where the crowd are shooed away as soon as the show wraps, tonight’s fans are treated to sticking around after curfew, taking selfies and chatting with the bands.

Check the “In The Flesh” page for more photos!
Bucovina + Finsterforst + Firtan + Countless Skies