The big review: Wacken 2026

You never know who you’re going to bump into at Wacken Open Air. Last year at the continent’s biggest metal shindig, K! were rubbing shoulders with astronauts from the European Space Agency. This year, it’s Jackass legend Chris ‘Party Boy’ Pontius, who’s here with Norwegian legends Vreid.

“What makes Wacken Open Air so special?” he ponders. “This is my first time here, but what stands out immediately is how there are metalheads from all over the world. Mexico, Japan, everywhere! It’s like a gathering of barbarian tribes.

“And it’s got this incredible vibe. Like, I’ve never seen a mosh pit full of crowd surfers before, being violent in the friendliest way. Plus, there are so many metal legends. My wife loves Judas Priest and when I told her that we were setting up with Rob Halford’s motorcycle behind us, she was like ‘You’ve got to get a picture with that!”

“It’s ‘The Holy Ground’,” Chris’ good friend, Wacken veteran, and Vreid frontman Jarle Kvåle cuts in. “It’s the OG, and it’s been so consistently dedicated to metal. In the 1990s, when it seemed that no-one cared about metal, there would still be a massive crowd of tens of thousands at Wacken. And, for the new generation coming through, it’s still the place to be!”

Indeed, with the sun gods once again smiling on northern Germany after last year’s heavy rain, and some 100,000 metalheads waving flags from right around Planet Earth, the week-long get-together in Germany feels like even more of a destination than ever before.

In one area, you’ll find the Medieval-themed Wackinger village full of craft stalls, mead bars and a whole bull being spit-roasted on open flames. Walk a minute or two and you’re in the Mad Max-alike Wasteland compound, surrounded by pyro stacks and actors brandishing post-apocalyptic weaponry. And that’s not even counting the fringe events which spill out into Wacken village itself, from the ‘Metal Church’ to a local petrol station converted into a beer garden.

Oh, and there's an absolutely stacked line-up. Here's what went down as the noise came to Wacken's 35th birthday bash...

"Wacken, we have dreamt of this day," smiles LOVEBITES vocalist Asami, following the ceremonial opening of the main arena and business properly gets started. "Eight years since we were last at heavy metal's Holy Land, we have returned!"

Dressed all in white and, for the most part, moving with the finesse of classical virtuosos, the Japanese collective may seem like an odd choice in this slot at first. But, overloaded with power metal cheese, face-melting shred and a few surprisingly quirky basslines, big hitters Judgement Day and When Destinies Align certainly sound the part. "Make some noise," they command. "Raise some hell!" Wacken duly delivers. (SL)

By the end of this weekend, Electric Callboy will be confirmed as headliners for Wacken 2027. They‘ll have to move Heaven and Earth to top what they bring tonight as alter-egos Electric Bassboy. With live vocals, guitar and percussion, the ‘DJ set’ tag might feel like a somewhat of a stretch, but there’s an unhinged glee in how they rampage through 25-odd remixed covers and originals without pausing for breath. One minute, they’re morphing Slipknot’s Wait And Bleed into a gabba banger. The next, they’re leading a synth-enhanced sing-along of My Chemical Romance’s The Black Parade that feels like 2am at your local rock club on steroids. It’s an otherworldly good time – especially in their native Deutschland – full of brash, bonkers brilliance and larger-than-life charisma. Pray to the rave-rock gods they bring this show to the UK sooner rather than later. (SL)

In stark contrast to Electric Bassboy's electronic carnage, Crypt Sermon's epic true doom hymns feel even more earthy and carved from wood than usual. Especially when the golden hour sun is casting the Philly fivesome in appropriately atmospheric light, making the already huge likes of God Is Dead feel even more grandstanding than usual. But in any situation, their excellent, Candlemass-y riffs are a treat, and those gathered get a humdinging display of doom from one of the very best bands in the underground. Even their satisfied smiles can't bring up the heavy mood. Amen! (NR)

“We played our first show at Wacken all the way back in 1998,” Cristina Scabbia tells Lacuna Coil's massive audience in front of Wednesday’s setting sun. “They were one of the first festivals to give us a chance. We won’t forget that.” Wearing Joker-like prosthetic face scars and black devil horns, the singer looks a million Euros this evening, like some comic book anti-heroine, and they put in a performance to match. Having mentioned their near-30-year history with the festival, it is a bit odd there’s nothing from their first couple of albums in the set list, but there’s no shortage of classics, with a sweeping Our Truth and fine-tuned versions of Swamped and Heaven’s A Lie finding the mark. A strikingly dark, infernally alluring showcase. (SL)

Aus-rock legends Rose Tattoo are old favourites at Wacken, and the festival turns out in force for what’s billed as ‘One Last Ride’. If anyone expects an ounce of sentimentality from Angry Anderson and the lads on their farewell run, though, they’ve got another thing coming. Hitting like a beer bottle over the head in some lairy outback bar, Manzil Madness, Astra Wally and Sidewalk Sally only seem to have grown gnarlier and more grizzled with age. And with booze flowing freely as the clock ticks towards midnight, they’re right at home in this field in Germany, too. Nice boys don’t play rock ‘n’ roll, as the song goes. Certainly not like this. (SL)

Need the most ‘Wacken’ set imaginable? Mambo Kurt might still be too Wacken. The German comedy mainstay has been promoted, over the decades, from a speciality sideshow in the festival’s old biergartens to effectively closing out this first night with a crowd of more than 10,000. The atmosphere is, frankly, through the roof for his one-man-and-a-synthesiser versions of Rage Against The Machine’s Killing In The Name (silliness, with circle pits) and Depeche Mode’s Just Can’t Get Enough (surprisingly true to the original). Bringing a gang of sozzled fans to dance onstage and leading some of the most emphatic sing-songs of the whole festival, it’s stupidly good fun. (SL)

"Mein Deutsch ist Scheiße," admits Andy Cairns, reaching the limit of his local chat. "But I'm from Ireland, so my English is shit as well." Somewhat less theatrical and more stripped down onstage than, say, Sabaton they may be, but Therapy? feel particularly at home at Wacken. That's partly down to bangers like Nowhere, Poundland Of Hope And Glory and their stonking cover of Joy Division's Isolation never missing, but equally because they seem to be having such a ruddy good time. For drummer Neil Cooper's birthday, they add a snippet of Sabbath's Iron Man and a drum solo into Potato Junkie, while Knives (dedicated to Brit doomsters Witchsorrow) is filled with a jubilant aggression here. Their German may be Scheiße, but that's all that is. (NR)

There's a lot of good guitarists at Wacken. A bunch of truly great ones as well. But none of them are Uli Jon Roth. Looking like a stoned wizard, the one-time Scorpions legend weaves a very unique magic from the get-go, not always the flashiest of guitarists, but someone who plays the instrument like the coolest man you've ever seen. Today, he's brought friends with him, including Kreator's Mille Petrozza for Pictured Life, Inglorious' Nathan James, and Lucifer's Johanna Sadonis for an epic rendition of Scorpions mystical Sails Of Charon. A Hendrix-worthy rendition of All Along The Watchtower closes the party, and you're left thinking every other six-stringer should go home after this masterclass from a true sorcerer. (NR)

Black metal in the blazing sunshine is one of those odd Wacken ubiquities, but few outfits do it better than Swedish nightmares Craft. Backed by flaming sigils and tearing through the speakers with infernal intent and soul-scourging power, they make this sunbeaten field feel like the very depths of Hell. Titles like Fuck The Universe and I Want To Commit Murder demand a certain level of sonic evil and it’s satisfied in full. Proceedings end somewhat abruptly, but even just having the band turn their backs and walk away after 45 minutes of sheer terror feels aptly misanthropic. (SL)

“Yngwie who?” beg a smattering of iconic t-shirts throughout the crowd on Thursday afternoon. “Yngwie fucking Malmsteen!” As if anyone here would need to ask. Appearing back-to-back with fellow six-string great Uli Jon Roth, fans of fretboard-flashing fingerwork are in Heaven as the another of the GOATs ramps up the heroics with Rising Force and Now All Your Ships Are Burned. There is the sense that he might be taking the piss somewhat when his virtuoso band roll out a cover of Deep Purple’s guitar-novice staple Smoke On The Water, but even that culminates with one of the most dazzling solos you’ll ever hear. (SL)

A Diabolic Thirst, you say? Pretty much everyone at Wacken's got one. While the bars deal with that, Canadian black metallers Spectral Wound deliver a fittingly evil soundtrack to the suds. As with Craft, the unusual sight of such a shadowy band in full daylight is unusual at first, but being able to see the mania in frontman Jonah Campbell's eyes has an intensity all of its own. He looks like a zombie, slumping around in his leather jacket and corpsepaint, hunched over until it's time to release his fearsome screams, when he bursts into, uh, life. They're aided by a sound that brings out both the scything chill and powerful beef of their noise perfectly, once again doing nothing to beat those 'best current black metal band' accusations that some have started laying at their door. (NR)

“I know the weather at Wacken can be pretty hit or miss,” Wytch Hazel frontman Colin Hendra grins, cheekily. “But the elements have been kind to us today. So here’s… Elements!” The Lancaster metallers’ clothy Medieval aesthetic and Christian themes might be an especially weird match for the industrial rust and ruin of Wacken’s Wasteland Stage – particularly given there is an actual church hosting bands in the village – but they more than make up for it with cheesy banter and big tunes. Leaning on classic influences Wishbone Ash and Jethro Tull, with just a little tongue in cheek, the chiming guitars and soaring vocals of The Citadel and Healing Power get the field singing their praises. (SL)

Savatage know all about Wacken Open Air. Initially reforming at Germany’s ‘Holy Ground’ back in 2015, having played here previously in 1998 and 2002, the Florida gang celebrated that moment with a compilation called Return To Wacken, which confused many due to featuring studio rather than live recordings. There’s absolutely no muddiness his evening, though, as they romp through with a headline-worthy performance bursting with nostalgia and vitality. Sort of like Queensrÿche with bigger riffs and less conceptual messing about, Dead Winter Dead, Jesus Saves and Lights Out thrill older fans and captivate countless new ones. There are tears in eyes as original lead vocalist Jon Olivia – now struggling with health issues – appears by video link to introduce mega-power ballad Believe. The absurdly OTT parting salvo of Power Of The Night and Hall Of The Mountain King, meanwhile, is as massive as any at the festival. Unforgettable stuff. (SL)

Legendary as they are in UK extreme metal, it appears that with melodic classic rock dominating the main stages a whole bunch of those with an appetite for brutality are checking out Anaal Nathrakh for the first time in this corner of Germany. Safe to say they won’t forget the name. There’s a muted response, and slightly patchy sound for normally-terrifying opener In The Constellation Of The Black Widow, but when Dave Hunt and co. break the glass and fire into Forward! early on, proceedings hit the levels of chaos you’d expect. Dave knowingly teases that they’re not legally allowed to request a wall of death for cataclysmic closer Submission Is For The Weak but, really, that madness is just the cherry on top of another classic lesson in violence. (SM)

After days of impolite heat, the sky opens just as Turbonegro hit the stage. The short downpour is almost as welcome as the Norwegian death punks and their innuendo, make-up, horsing around and denim-clad cheekiness. Somewhere between alluring and threatening, they sum up rock 'n' roll's danger just as much as its sexy side, as well as its ability to tap into your primal instinct to party.

Tony Sylvester has become a hulking bear of a frontman, leading the charge with magnetic, muscular camp. Clashing with Def Leppard, it's hard to decide using the 'Who's got more bangers?' method, coming up at something of a draw. Back To Dungaree High, Rendezvous With Anus and Hot For Nietzsche are thrillingly sleazy rockers that come on like Alice Cooper's bratty nephew, while We Will Rock You-rip-off City Of Satan is a massive sing-along, and Boys From Nowhere is remarkably sentimental. As ever, All My Friends Are Dead is hilarious in its fun-ness, but that's Turbonegro all over. Death punk forever! (NR)

In terms of album sales, aside from maybe Iron Maiden, Def Leppard are the biggest band Wacken have ever booked. Unfortunately, commercial success does not translate to metal cred, and the crowd for Joe Elliot and the boys is a shade smaller and damper than they really deserve. Not that it affects their ageless performance. Wreathed in sequins, shiny waistcoats and a million-dollar production honed for five decades in arenas around the world, the early run of Animal, Let’s Get Rocked and a slinky cover of Depeche Mode’s Personal Jesus sets the tone. Guitarists Phil Collen and Vivian Campbell, bassist Rick Savage and legendary drummer Rick Allen are on fine form bringing Promises and Armageddon It to life. And as much as Rock Of Ages and Photograph make for a mighty conclusion to the main set, they’re upstaged by the swaggering encore of When Love And Hate Collide, Hysteria and Pour Some Sugar On Me. Assured stuff from all time greats whose names have (deservedly) long been written into the history books. (SL)

Looking for some shitty metal? Gutulax have you covered. We're not being mean, they're obsessed with turds. And toilets. And "The most beautiful part of the body, which is of course butthole". There's two toilets onstage, they arrive in hazmat suits and throw bog brushes into the crowd, have a song about a majestic figure called Diarrhero (Oscar Wilde must be kicking himself in his grave), and another called You Are What You Shit (again...). The Czech grinders are oddly loveable with all this, and they get an entire field starting the day with a nice, big, enjoyable movement. Good shit. (NR)

With many fans having been here since last weekend, bangovers have set in big time by Friday lunchtime, but Employed To Serve are in no mood to take it easy. Having played Slovenia, Hungary, Turkey and Romania in the last week of an epic summer festival run, the Woking crew are razor sharp and fired up, battering through Atonement, Force Fed and Treachery as vocalists Justine Jones and Sammy Urwin call for bigger pits and more crowdsurfers despite a dust-cloud beginning to envelop the arena. "Did I give you permission to stop moving?" bellows Justine at one point when energy dips below less than nuclear. The ability to leave out a banger as mighty as Mark Of The Grave without too much disappointment says a lot about the strength of their arsenal at this stage, and by the time they hit an almighty Whose Side Are You On?, everyone here is Team ETS. (SL)

Though he's been out with them for a minute, and a conversation with him quickly shows he knows his black metal onions, it's still a surprising moment to see Chris Pontius taking to the stage with Norwegian black metal mainstays Vreid alongside singer Djerv to play guitar on Loving The Dead. It is less of a surprise that he's down to his pants by the end, but whatevs. Anyway, fun as all this is, even without it Vreid are on fire today. Their uniforms give them a somewhat sci-fi vibe, but the coldness of Pitch Black and the thrashing From These Woods has a gloriously ancient feel. Even on this massive stage, they feel hulking as well, filling the space with imperious power. Horsing about or not, Vreid are vreally good. (NR)

Germany might have dropped out of the World Cup guttingly early a few weeks ago, but there’s no such disappointment as Berlin rockers Future Palace reward a big home country support by smashing the back of the net. Vocalist Maria Lessing is the star of the show, alternating between megawatt charisma, siren-song seduction and understated vulnerability, often in the space of single songs like Supernova and Resurge. Her band lifts it to another level, echoing superstar influences Architects and Spiritbox on Tidal Waves, Dead Inside and the climactic Malphas, all while maintaining a sound that remains undeniably their own. (SL)

Paradise Lost just wouldn't be Paradise Lost without the laffs. "Ladies and gentlemen, on the piano, Mr. Elton John!" announces Nick Holmes as a tape plays the plinky intro to One Second. "Last time we were here was 2018," he later recalls, "I hope this isn't... The Last Time." There is, of course, nothing lighthearted about the song, or any of the Halifax doomsters' numbers, however. Powerful, yes (a storming Hallowed Land), occasionally surprising (a cover of Bronski Beat's Small Town Boy), anthemic (The Enemy), and sometimes just plain old miserable (Silence Like The Grave). They're on absolutely belting form today, and it feels almost appropriate that as they exit, rain begins to fall. (NR)

Over the last decade or so, Wacken has found a little space for shining modernity and soft edges. Mantar care not for any of that nonsense. Instead, the Bremen duo deal in big riffs, faint psychedelia and pummelling their audience into the dirt. Appearing for the first time this year, just a few hours from home, today’s set is supercharged by pent-up energy and an odd back-and-forth banter with the crowd that sees one punter on the front row begging to be allowed to take over on drums. Songs like Age Of The Absurd and Cosmic Abortion may not be the most complex on offer at Wacken this year, but they’re still among the biggest. (SL)

Deafheaven may draw from sonic darkness, but they couldn’t look more at home in the beating sun. There’s a surprisingly sparse crowd for the Californian blackgaze masters, but those who’ve turned out are universally so engaged that it still feels like a quasi-religious experience. Leaning almost entirely on last year’s Lonely People With Power, the gnashing Doberman, all-enveloping Magnolia and strange, industrial of Incidental II form somehow both like an uncompromised wall of sound and a rich tapestry woven from a million different emotions. Dream House is the only throwback to old landmark Sunbather, but as George Clarke signs off with an overwhelming Winona, it looks like the future will be even brighter. (SM)

If Paleface Swiss seem unstoppable right now, how about this? Guitarist Yannick Lehmann has come down with a bug and had to sit on the subs' bench today, so his part is played by the band's (genuinely heroic, as it turns out) monitor engineer Marco Bayati, who learned the band's whole set in 10 hours. Which is enough to think about before taking into account that he's got to play it in front of the enormous crowd who have turned out for the rising Swiss metal contenders. It doesn't put even the slightest touch of the brakes on proceedings. Nail To The Tooth and I Am A Cursed One could never not sound monstrous, but perhaps because of the odd circumstances, there's even more charge to them today. It's not a career-changing set, but just another affirmation of how hard this lot are swinging right now. (NR)

If any band this weekend can claim to be Wacken's house band (other than Mambo Kurt, obviously), it is Saxon. They were the first big band to come to the fest in 1992, and are greeted by an enormous crowd as they return for the eighth time today. Biff Byford seems intent on reminding everyone just how old he and his band are (although bassist Nibbs Carter is more shredded than Yngwie Malmsteen's guitar), but there's absolutely nothing creaky or slow about them. Indeed, while the set leans almost entirely on classics like 747 (Strangers In The Night), Strong Arm Of The Law and And The Bands Played On, newie Hell, Fire And Damnation from 2024 stands mighty and muscular on its own. Which is great, but nowhere near as good as simply bellowing along to Denim And Leather in a field with tens of thousands wearing just that. (NR)

“When I say ‘Hate’, you say ‘Breed’!” Watching Hatebreed’s titanic old-school set at Outbreak back back in June, it was hard to imagine that things could get any better or more bonkers for the Massachusetts maulers. Having knocked out a handful more European festivals and a whole US tour since then, however, they crush Wacken like rampant war masters, with mainman Jamey Jasta opening his arms to a colossal circle pit and dozens of death-defying crowdsurfers from the moment they step onstage. Bangers like I Will Be Heard, Perseverance and Destroy Everything have ascended to true ‘classic’ status at this stage, but the biggest cheer is saved for bassist Wayne Lozniak who’s come back from a brain tumor last year to elevate the chaos to a new level. (SL)

“Everybody put your friend up in the sky and let them surf,” smiles In Flames' Anders Fridén with long-earned wisdom. “Then they'll call you tomorrow and say, ‘I love you, that was the best night of my life!’” Now on their 10th time at Wacken, the Gothernburg greats have seen their fair share of bodies topple over the barrier in this sweet field, but never as many as they do this evening, where a massive, massive crowd that stretches beyond the main arena turns out to bask in Artifacts Of The Black Rain, Colony, Cloud Connected and Only For The Weak. Cuts from 2008’s A Sense Of Purpose, Alias, The Chosen Pessimist and The Mirror’s Truth sound especially timeless, with more circle-pits than you could count flashing on the big screens, while fresher cuts Foregone Pt. 2 and State Of Slow Decay have bedded in well. There is a particular familiarity as they close out with Take This Life, but with about 100,000 voices screaming along, it’s still heartwarmingly welcome. (SL)

It's often wondered what it would have been like had Swedish black metal pioneers Bathory actually toured. We'll never know the answer, because mainman Quorthon didn't want to, and he died in 2004. What Blood Fire Death do, though, is a roaring, all-star tribute to one of the greatest and most influential acts ever to walk the Earth, in a manner that only adds to the mystique and legend of the originals. With a rotating cast of singers – tonight featuring Watain's Erik Danielsson, Attilla from Mayhem, Enslaved frontman Grutle among others – and a band including Enslaved guitarist Ivar Bjørnson, Aura Noir bassist Apollyon and Blasphemer from Mayhem, it's a fire-wreathed celebration.

Even the intro tape of Oden's Ride Over Nordland invokes excitement, never mind when it leads into a staggering rendition of A Fine Day To Die, led by Emperor's Ihsahn. Concentrating on the first four albums means nothing off Hammerheart, but seeing Raise The Dead, Sacrifice and Born For Burning live, as powerful as this, is treat itself. Indeed, those gathered are completely spellbound, particularly when one-time Bathory bassist Frederick Melander appears for a turn. There isn't a soul not under the spell during a violent, punky The Return Of Darkness And Evil or sinful Woman Of Dark Desires. Nor for the spectacular, fiery closer of Blood Fire Death. A fitting salute to one of the best bands ever, without whom many acts this weekend simply wouldn't exist. (NR)

Judas Priest at Wacken? It’s never not going to be absolutely fucking brilliant, is it? Even by The Metal Gods’ ridiculously high standards, mind, tonight is something else. The confluence of perfect weather, a vast crowd, no-expense-spared production, superb sound, and a version of the band who look truly thrilled to be taking this stage make it one of those sets that fans of leather-clad, engine-revving, glass-shattering heavy metal will probably still be reminiscing over on their deathbeds. Then you add on a setlist of solid gold: You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’, Metal Gods and Breaking The Law dropping straight out of the gate as the crowd descends into sheer delirium.

Rob Halford keeps his eyes jammed shut for the most part, wholly focused on summoning perfect high notes from within his 74-year-old ribcage, but his band are agape at the outpouring of love as they drive on through The Ripper, latter day hit Lightning Strike, Turbo Lover and Halls Of Valhalla. Then there’s Painkiller. And Rob’s motorbike. And an encore of Electric Eye, Hell Bent For Leather and Living After Midnight. Words fail us, but, Bloodstock, get ready. (SL)

Though always excellent, following the perfection of Blood Fire Death, Emperor feel a little surplus today. Even playing their debut EP, with Mortiis on bass, there's not the same sense of occasion, particularly when they're up against Judas Priest. Early classic Into The Infinity Of Thoughts is still great, as is the doomier An Elegy Of Icaros, while EP bangers I Am The Black Wizards and Wrath Of The Tyrant will never be less than welcome, but what could have been an event ends up with them playing catchup through no fault of their own. (NR)

Deciding to lower the mainsail for the last time, Hamburg pirate-metal progenitors Running Wild couldn’t have picked a better place to make their final stand than Wacken. Songs like Riding The Storm, Branded And Exiled or Under Jolly Roger might not be as well known on a global scale as those of In Flames, Judas Priest and Sepultura on the same billing, but they’re received with rum-fed ecstasy here.

The band up their game, digging through the catalogue to deliver live debuts of Men In Black and Dead Man’s Road, as well as a first performance of Sinister Eyes in 30 years. It’s another outrageous high in a festival full of them, and no-one wants it to end as they keep returning for separate encores of Stick To Your Guns and Raise Your Fist before they return a third and final-final time to pillage the pit and wave goodbye with a glorious Conquistadores before sailing triumphantly into the sunset. Why are Running Wild so great? Because they arrrrrrr! (SL)

They might have started in metal-mad Brazil, but as guitarist Andreas Kisser points out this evening, there is no country Sepultura have played in more than their beloved Germany. It’s a poignant observation as they arrive for their final show in this part of the world. This tour is titled ‘Celebrating Life Through Death’, though, and rather than any kind of sad farewell, it is a celebration of the primal sonic violence with which Sepultura have always ruled.

Going on well after midnight and finishing around 2am, you might think bruisers might be flagging, but Inner Self, Attitude and Kaiowas, featuring a bunch of extra friends on drums, invoke all kinds of body-slamming brutality. Arguably the Cavalera brothers – sadly not part of this parting run – deliver truer versions of Territory, Refuse/Resist and Arise, but with vocalist Derrick Green cutting an impossibly imposing figure and brilliant young tyro Greyson Nekrutman on drums, it doesn’t feel like any kind of lesser alternative. Not that anyone’s even thinking about such trivialities as Roots Bloody Roots detonates the field with a curtain-drop mosh to end them all. (SL)

At gone 1am, it's unsurprising to see a few sleepyheads flagging. There's one lad fully curled up on the floor as Alcest arrive. But their dreamy, woozy not-quite-black-metal is actually just the tonic when you're basically falling asleep on your feet. You're not being told to go nuts, there's no instruction to drink or shout. Instead, Niege sends out waves of chorus-soaked guitar and gently sings in his soothing, high voice, ending the night on a welcomely gentle note. (NR)

“We’re on the W.E.T. Stage, and I’m feeling pretty fackin’ wet, so here’s Wet Death!” In terms of memorable song-intros, Blood Command ringleader Nikki Brumen takes first prize. She’s a show-stealing stand out in a lot of things, to be fair. At one point she takes advantage of liberal German weed laws to cajole the crowd into handing over a spliff – then immediately sparks up onstage. “Yes, this is Blood Command, not Cypress Hill!”. At another, she drops her shorts, flashes a cameraman at point-blank range, then sticks the mic where the sun don’t shine. And that’s before you even get to the immense musical charisma the Aussie firestarter shares with her Norwegian bandmates, where Mariah’s Song and Cult Of The New Beat combine pop colour, punk grit and songwriting genius that puts all challengers in the shade. It’s a scorcher out here, but consider Wacken well and truly soaked. (SL)

Brutally patchy sound plagues the start of Orbit Culture’s landmark set, but it’s testament to the rising Swedes’ immense self-confidence that they refuse to be derailed. Rather, Niklas Karlsson and his bandmates farm some serious aura, and plough on through The Storm, The Tales Of War and Bloodhound like the metal giants they are quickly becoming. There’s a valid argument that as strong as big songs From The Inside and Hydra are, their performance could use a little more colour and spark, but as Niklas finally lets his stony facade drop to gush about how incredible having made it to this stage is, it’s clear with more shows like this, those elements will come. (SL)

Having reformed and spent the past few summers on the road, Kittie are better now than they ever were. Morgan Lander's riffs sound beefier than ever today as well. True, their lunchtime slot means it's mostly a nod-your-head-and-approvingly-munch-your-bratwurst affair from the crowd, but this is all fine when you've got Cut Throat, Pain and We Are Shadows pumping out. Cuts from their early days like Brackish and Spit, meanwhile, have become steamrollers. Kittie haven't just still got claws. They've got swords on their paws now. (NR)

Starting late and still ending a shade early, thrown’s big Wacken set might sound a little insubstantial on paper, but it’s truly a lesson why explosive material should be doled out in small packages. With a mid-afternoon crowd flagging a little on the festival’s last day, the Stockholm metalcore maniacs pile in like a freight train composed entirely of razorblades. Opening with the ear-piercing, gut-punching bloodsucker and not letting up until the last notes of a concussive grayout lash from the battered PA, it is a compact, chaotic show of power from one of contemporary metalcore’s most efficiently violent bands. (SL)

"We came here to do one thing and one thing only: fuck this place up," beams Randy Blythe. "Are you ready to get rowdy?" His answer is a circle pit so vast it actually looks like it's moving in slow motion from above. Virginia's finest are visibly up for it today, even at teatime, busting out Laid To Rest and newie Parasocial Christ like men having a whale of a time. "Fuck work. Fuck your boss. Drink beer. Fuck a stranger. You sloppy motherfuckers," grins Randy at one point. But they're not playing about, either, and Walk With Me In Hell could shake the gates of Heaven open here, while closer Redneck is a truly violent explosion of metal precision. Bloodstock, prepare for something very special. (NR)

Bleed From Within manage to get a wall of death during their first song. Clearly, the Scottish metal champs have won before they've even stepped onstage today, but it doesn't mean they give Wacken anything less than punishment. The End Of All We Know is savage, while Pathfinder and God Complex sound enormous here. It's no wonder kilted frontman Scott Kennedy can't stop smiling between his roaring. Even with last-day energy levels starting to hit, it's pandemonium throughout. Great Scots! (NR)

How much fun is it possible to have in 45 minutes? To find out, contact Municipal Waste. Having summarily demolished festival stages for 20 years at this point, the Virginia party-thrash gods are up there with Motörhead and Andrew W.K. in the list of bands who, in their prime, focused on good times and appeared incapable of putting on a bad show. The mosh madness, tsunamis of crowdsurfers and even most of the setlist is predictable for fans at this stage, but given the good times guaranteed as soon as Beer Pressure, Slime And Punishment or The Thrashin’ Of The Christ spill from those speakers, you can count on them still showing up until the wheels fall off. (SL)

‘PURE FUCKING METAL’ reads the backdrop as Arch Enemy storm on a couple of spots from the very top of the bill at Wacken. It’s hard to argue with that. With both ex-guitarist Jeff Loomis (back in Nevermore) and ex-vocalist Alissa White-Gluz (appearing with Bear McCreary) elsewhere on-site this weekend, there’s a sense that the veteran Swedes don’t want to be upstaged and, for the most part, they aren’t. With many here encountering new singer Lauren Hart for the first time this weekend, it is disappointing that her vocals only occasionally land with the heft that’s intended, but it’s never quite clear whether that’s down to her or a dodgy sound. Other than that, the parade of proven bangers speaks for itself: War Eternal, My Apocalypse, No Gods, No Masters, We Will Rise, Nemesis. It’ll take a few more rounds to confirm whether this iteration of Arch Enemy can truly hold its own with the last couple, but the signs are looking pretty good. (SL)

Castle Rat actually fit very well into the rusty, Mad Max-ish surroundings of the Wasteland Stage. In fact, next to the wasteland raiders roaming around in full costume, Riley Pinkerton and her weird cosmic D&D mates might seem relatively normal. There's a massive crowd spilling out of the stage to a point of only being able to hear Dagger Dragger, but even if you can't see the arrival (and eventual killing) of The Rat Reaperess, their classic, '70s-indebted metal is still grand stuff. (NR)

It'd be impossible to get a count of how many riffs there have been this weekend, but as far as The Riff goes, few do them as well or with as much gusto as Corrosion Of Conformity. Maybe Yngwie Malmsteen aside, nobody here has had as much fun playing his guitar at Wacken than 1980s-era Tony Iommi lookalike Woody Weatherman. Hardly surprising, though, when you've got big, lumbering riffs like those at the heart of Albatross and My Grain, or the killer solos in new lurcher Asleep On The Killing Floor. Frontman Pepper Keenan, meanwhile, is blessed with a charming Southern drawl that slides over Who's Got The Fire? effortlessly. When they groove out, it's wonderful Sabbath worship. When they hit hard, like on Vote With A Bullet ("A song that gets popular in America every four years") or closer Clean My Wounds, they're absolutely devastating. Killer, as ever. (NR)

Scheduled at the same time as Powerwolf’s incineration of the main stage (the vulpine Germans’ flame-stacks can be seen lighting up the horizon behind the stage), Guilt Trip’s Wacken arrival could have been something of a damp squib. Fortunately, the Wasteland Stage has an insane permanent pyro array of it’s own, so it becomes a game of fighting fire with fire. Somehow, there’s a sizeable crowd for Manchester’s finest beatdown merchants as well, so Unrelenting Force, No Love Lost and Burn command an inferno in the pit as well as the skies. Leaving off with a parting blast of Machine Head’s Davidian, it’s a Trip plenty here wouldn’t mind taking again. (SM)

Powerwolf may have headlined Wembley Arena earlier this year, but outside of Germany the gothic power metallers are still seen as something of a joke. For some on these shores, their wildly campy stagecraft and FanFic-style obsession with werewolves and vampires simply too much to be taken seriously. With a crowd of close to 100,000 rammed in and more pyro going off than you’d get at a Rammstein show on New Year’s Eve, they look a little different here, mind. Bless ‘Em With The Blade and Sinners Of The Seven Seas are the same oddball numbers we’ve seen before, but when they’re plugged in with this much, er, power, it’s hard not to be swept along. There’s a fireworks display that would put most festivals to shame in and of itself during the encore of Sanctified With Dynamite, Blood For Blood (Foladh) and Werewolves Of Armenia, too. And nary a soul in attendance walks away without a smile on their face and having succumbed to the bite of the ‘Wolf. (SL)

While it's somewhat distracting being able to hear Sabaton's cheesy bombast between songs, it also highlights the Mariana Trench of darkness that Triptykon create. Tonight's set is a career-spanning one for legendary mainman Tom Gabriel Fischer, taking in cuts from his days in Hellhammer and Celtic Frost alongside powerful 'Kon cuts like the dizzying, discordant Goetia and slow-building Aurorae.

Opening with Frost classics Circle Of The Tyrants and Into The Crypts Of Rays is a one-two you might expect, but soon they poke into the corner's of Tom's past. The cover of new wave band Wall Of Voodoo's Mexican Radio, given a bold working over by Frost on 1987's Into The Pandemonium, gets its live debut, as much of a surprise as its placing on the album was. Similarly, Triptykon's Shatter feels the warmth of a stage light for the first time, as does Demon Pact, both all doomy guitar and dark disorientation.

It makes you realise what a lot of ground Tom has covered, creatively. "I'm too old for this shit," he jokes drily at one point (one of the few things he says in English this evening, being on Germanic soil), but everything feels brand new. Even Hellhammer's Messiah, a song 40-some years old now, bursts with morbid vitality.

It all comes together to create a mood that metal often strives for but rarely achieves. As it ends in a wall of fire to the almost ceremonial climax of Synagoga Satanae, feeling genuinely magical, it's reiterated that nobody does darkness, heaviness, heart-rending emotion or creative fuck-you-ism like this. As it goes silent and the cheese can be heard again, you realise how important that truly is. (NR)

“They say look to the far, distant horizon,” Sabaton’s founding bassist Pär Sundström gasps, drinking in the adulation from Wacken. “Well, I'm looking, and there are metalheads as far as the eye can see!”

The Falun battalion are no strangers to huge crowds, having ruled over Graspop and Hellfest this summer alone. Hell, there was also that time they played across both of Wacken’s Faster and Harder main stages at the same time for their 20th anniversary back in 2019. But there’s a real sense of arrival tonight as they return at the very pinnacle of the bill to deliver the headline set that it looks like everyone has been waiting for. They don’t disappoint, either. There are notes of reverence about songs celebrating some of history’s greatest battles, like Ghost Division, The Last Stand and Great War. But, really, Sabaton have ascended to metal’s top tier through campy theatre, unashamedly over-the-top delivery and the all-guns-blazing pursuit of good times.

There’s an event shirt with Wacken’s iconic Bullhead sporting singer Joakim Brodén’s mohawk and aviators. There are endless chants, too, for “Noch ein bier!” (‘Another beer!’) and the band chugging away onstage. And there’s enough pyro to shellshock everyone in attendance. Night Witches bludgeons with hips swinging and trigger fingers itching. The Attack Of The Dead Men remains a gas-wreathed highlight. A handful of members of ‘The Legendary Orchestra’ who’ll be joining the band in UK arenas next year pop up for backing vocals, elevating the already mighty Primo Victoria and Swedish Pagans to another level. Yet, lighting the fuse on To Hell And Back, the band are practically drowned out by the endless ocean of fans: an army of their own ready to see them celebrated as bona fide metal legends. (SL)

The Limit are the new(ish) band from troubled Pentagram frontman/unlikely viral superstar Bobby Liebling. Unfortunately, it seems that few at Wacken have actually heard this as they close out the whole festival, playing what’s apparently only their third show ever, to one of the smaller crowds of the weekend. Among said crowd, however, is festival founder Thomas Jensen – hanging out in the crowd rather than the side of stage, one would presume, because Bobby is kinda’ scary. That a small, 72 year old man from Brooklyn still wields that kind of energy and mystique is at the heart of why The Limit are worth seeking out, mind, and the gothy, groovy hard rock of Death Of My Soul and Another Drop Of Blood are the perfect way to wile away the small hours and bring down the curtain on one of the best festivals ever. It’s an odd, unforgettable, unashamedly metal moment that could only ever really have happened at Wacken.

We’ll see you there, with beer in hand and battle-jackets on our backs for whatever new surprises are in store this time next year. Prost! (SL)

Wacken Open Air returns from July 28-31, 2027. Get your tickets here.