The big review: Download 2026 - Sunday

It's Download day three! Tired? Probably, but there's still a stupid amount of bands and bants to get stuck into. From the return of Linkin Park to Donington Park, to the debut festival visit from Spitting Glass, it's stacked. Here's what went down...

It's not clear what most of the mass of rubberneckers assembled for Dogstar expect, but judging by the mumbles of confusion when they actually go on, it's not this. Hollywood megastar Keanu Reeves is indeed up onstage, but rather than a starring role, he's in the supporting cast today, as the greying, bearded (albeit still devastatingly handsome) bassist in a Los Angeles alt. rock collective with far more in common with Pearl Jam, Queens Of The Stone Age or Bush than Wyld Stallyns. They're still pretty good, though. Fresh from last night's show at the London Roundhouse,,and just a few weeks on from the release of fourth album All In Now, there's a cool confidence about Runway and All In Now that works perfectly on a tired Sunday afternoon. And although the strange combination of an unholy crowd squeeze and general disinterest in the music itself does undercut the atmosphere somewhat, these Dogstars' day is far from done. (SL)

If you can conquer Miss World Chile, Download should be piss easy right? Vocalist Ignacia Fernández went viral late last year for bringing death metal to the beauty pageant which she won, but now she's turning her attention to producing some truly ugly sounds from her throat with Decessus. Her larynx-shredding gutturals are woven through textures that are gravity-defying, elegant and ferocious all at once, glinting with grandiosity, yet it still commands plenty of moshing (and much hair-swishing from Decessus themselves). It's pretty awesome, and it's easy to imagine it metamorphosing into an even bigger spectacle. (EW)

"I think it's time we take the throne," sings Wolfgang Van Halen on Another Celebration At The End Of The World. Two songs into Mammoth's packed-out Opus stage demolition, it sounds like the son of one of rock's greatest ever guitarists might actually be ready to pick up where his father Eddie left off. No talentless nepo baby, Wolfgang has always been a virtuoso in his own right, contributing across Mammoth's layered multi-instrumental compositions and providing vocals to boot. But where, in the past, he's lacked the swagger to go with his skill, today he actually feels like a star. It doesn't hurt that his like-minded bandmates seem as hungry to get their teeth into Same Old Song and Like A Pastime as he is, and that this big audience have let those bangers under their skin, but pivotal is the frontman's willingness to be the star of the show. "We're just a band who likes to play loud rock and roll!" he shrugs. That's all Donington has ever needed. (SL)

Matt Honeycutt talks to Download like a Texan gent, all “Yes ma’am.” Running on three hours of sleep and a 2am McDonald’s, Kublai Khan TX are still fired up and bringing plenty of swagger as Darwinism gets brains rattling. Their chunky rhythms and guitar squeelies are accompanied by Matt thumping his chest as he looks over the festival that has become their temporary kingdom. His sweet talking works its magic over the Apex field, with Theory Of Mind still making for a colossal closer that feels just as brutal even in the early afternoon. (RR)

The artist otherwise known as Matthew Cullen, Zero 9:36 lands on the Avalanche Stage like a stick of dynamite. Billed in some press as a rap-rocker, the Pennsylvanian hellraiser initially deals more in gleaming alt. metal today. His chest-caving Make Me Feel is legitimately one of the most powerful openers all weekend, and new single One To Create You comes on like Thornhill or Bad Omens overdosing on muscle drugs. "I haven't eaten yet," big Matt radiates a weirdly dusty charisma. "I've not slept in two days!" Witnessing the tight-wound mania that powers Chasing Shadows, you believe it. It's a visceral experience, with impressive levels of push-and-shove throughout, dozens of crowdsurfers, and even defiant demands for a wall of death on unhinged highlight System ("I don't give a fuck if you end up in the churro stand!"). Sensuality and soulfulness bleed in with the anthemic adrenaline, but they're blown away by cataclysmic final destination The End. "How many of you guys have never heard of us before?" Matthew asks. "How many just wandered into this bitch?" After today, count on every one of them to rush back. (SL)

“When the world screams at you to be anything but yourself, who are you?” a disembodied voice asks the thick throng of people who have assembled for Catch Your Breath. This is one such gem from an excessive number of faux-deep interludes deployed throughout their set that come over like Siri reading Instagram poetry, and the Texans' music doesn't do a great deal of heavy lifting, either. There's a wave of enthusiasm from the crowd that prompts healthy sing-alongs to 21 Gun Salute and Dial Tone, but they sound watery and a bit synthetic, with the band not exactly throwing a ton of enthusiasm into their performance. It feels frustrating when they had the capacity and the eyes on them to deliver so much more. (EW)

The ascendancy of Sleep Token and President has taught us that mystery is magnetic. Give away nothing, and the fans want to know everything. A year on from the inaugural President rally that was destined to become one of the festival’s biggest talking points, Download have repeated the trick by slapping a band on the poster that at the time of announcement had no music out whatsoever.

That band is Spitting Glass, a transatlantic group fronted by Fit For An Autopsy’s Joe Bad with longtime players in British heavy music. This, however, isn't a total rinse and repeat situation when they have a level of biography and history those previous groups don't - at least on a name and face basis. They also are capable of a kind of cartilage-tearing heaviness that President simply do not have...

Read the full review: Ready to break: What happened at Spitting Glass' Download debut

If you stand close enough and listen out before unpeople hit the stage, you’ll hear them before you see them. They crack their live synergy open like a glow stick with chants and screams from some place behind their beady-eyed banner. It’s a ritual that clearly works well, as they’re on yet another main stage following their ace Slam Dunk set last month. “Wakey wakey!” screams a suited and booted Jake Crawford. Fresh off the announcement of their debut album, lead single clouds is sung back to them like it’s been around for years. Not complete without a trip to the garden, Em Lodge brings chugging bass and Download brings the energy. A group that’s bubbling up to be more than a band, but a movement. (RR)

Bangovers are thumping on Sunday morning, but not half as hard as Ego Kill Talent. Boasting two drummers and perhaps the widest range of percussion instruments ever seen at Donington, the São Paulo rockers deliver a remarkably feelgood beatdown, sort of like classic Sepultura with the blood, fire and death swapped out for cocktails on the beach. Vocalist Emmily Barreto is a fizzing livewire, too, alternating between melodic highs and unhinged breakaways oddly reminiscent of Suicidal Tendencies' Institutionalized. "We Came all the way from Brazil," she greets the early risers. "Dance with us. Be weird." Faced with the torrent of brilliant, mostly unreleased new material blasting out of the PA, there's no other choice, really. Muito excellente! (SL)