Download Festival 2010…

Planet Rock Radio had a competition for a ‘Listener’ to go to Download. All they asked in return was for a review. The winner was Beth Charlesworth & this is her Download!

Managed to get Friday off at short notice, took a train up there around Friday lunchtime and set up camp in time to catch the first band I wanted to see (Anathema), although it seems I was not well enough acquainted with their back catalogue to know most of their set. Then went to the main stage via the bar because Killswitch Engage were on and I just knew they’d play their famous cover of Holy Diver as a tribute to Ronnie James Dio. They did indeed, as their final song. I stayed back away from the crazy pit that kicked off as a result and was therefore able to raise a pint of cider to the memory of the great man as they played.

Stayed put for a couple of songs by Them Crooked Vultures, but whenever I’ve heard them on the radio, they’ve always sounded like the lowest common denominator of the three famous components (Queens of the Stone Age, Led Zeppelin and Nirvana) and so it proved live, so I quickly got bored and went to find some dinner. After another trip to the bar (wine this time: with AC/DC up next, I had to have a whole lotta rosé!), I found a suitable position in which to watch the headliners.

Good old Acca Dacca delivered in spades. I doubt most of the blokes in the crowd were actually paying the band as much attention as they deserved, because of the sheer numbers of girls getting lifted on peoples shoulders and flashing their tits when the cameras for the big screens were on them, but from where I was standing (not on anybodys shoulders, and I kept my kit on: tartiness has never been my style) they put on one hell of a show. They brought the huge steam engine, the inflatable Rosie, the huge Hells Bell (on which Brian Johnson swung), and a formidable battery of cannons but more importantly, they brought the killer riffs of all the anthems I’d been waiting years to hear and the energy of guys half their age.

Got in at opening time on Saturday and headed directly for the second stage, where Rise to Remain opened proceedings. Austin Dickinson (son of Bruce) tries very hard not to sound like his father, taking Howard Jones of Killswitch Engage as a role model instead, so there was a risk that with both on the festival bill, this would be a case of deja entendu, but he is sufficiently dissimilar for it to work and although he sometimes growls the patter with audience too, a lot of what he says sounds reassuringly familiar. The band specialise in fast, heavy, melodic riffs and slower, soaring choruses, and have already made quite a name for themselves: the crowd the length of the second stage barrier must have been at least 8 or 10 deep at 11am. Listening to them, I could tell why. Found myself wishing Bruce’s Rock Show email was still active so I could fire off an email to him in the States and let him know the lad had done well.

No use moping about that, of course, because Hellyeah were about to start a cracking set on the main stage so I headed over to hear their blend of thrash metal and classic Southern rock (via the bar - because it would’ve been sacrilegious to hear them play Alcohaulin Ass without a drink in my hand). There was a long break to take in the general atmosphere of the place before Megadeth came on. I am not that enamoured by some of the tracks on their latest album for lyrical reasons, and of course they started with those, Mustaine’s diction painfully clear. But once they got onto the classics, including a sizeable chunk of Rust in Peace to celebrate David Ellefsons return to the band, and an emotionally-charged rendition of Trust everyone got caught up in it and just let the hell loose.

Made a detour to the Bedroom Jam tent for Breed 77. Thought I’d be able to get to the front, but only made the third row and therefore got inadvertently caught up in a pit, when I’d never imagined there would be one. Breed really went for it, to the point where it felt like there was electricity sparking off them. If you went to see them instead of the football, you got rocked senseless.

Wish I could’ve said the same for RATM. Stayed well back for that one, because only a fool goes anywhere near a pit when Rage hit the stage, and got completely ratted beforehand to help myself get into the spirit, but it was no use. Zack de la Rocha went off on one of his rants and I just switched off.