As the days get warmer and the evenings grow longer, it’s only natural that our thoughts turn towards the festival season, and there’s surely no better gateway into summer than with Uprising. Friendly, welcoming and fiercely independent, it encapsulates everything a good festival should be. Serving up two stages overflowing with talent, perfectly timed with no clashes, so no fear of missing out, your only real concern is finding time to eat. The organisers have served up a veritable feast that scans the whole spectrum of heaviness, so without further ado, let’s tuck in…
The aptly-titled Very Metal Art Stage gets off to a raucous start with Break Them. They excavate riffs from the depths of hell, underpin them with thunderous drums and top it all with rapid-fire vocals (pretty much everything you’d want at noon on Saturday). Closing with a cover of Machine Head’s ‘Davidian’ sets the bar high for the rest of the day.
Pryma immediately make their presence felt with a groove-laden sound that swings with wrecking-ball force. Led by a charismatic, versatile vocalist who leads from the front, it doesn’t take long for a pit to erupt (the ultimate sign of affirmation), with original tunes like ‘Destiny’ signposting a bright future. Catch them at Download…if you dare.
Opening the Total Rock Stage, Leicester-based Fractions aren’t the sort of band who do things by halves and fire a warning shot with a heavy, yet melodic, approach. Deftly defying easy categorisation, I suggest you file them under “heavy”. Building huge sonic structures, Fractions are a hard band to ignore, but when the songs are this good, why would you want to?
It seems that Crowley have undertaken a Faustian pact and must pay for their devilishly dark sound, and today that price is a few gremlins in the works. However, those technical issues don’t knock them off course; if anything, they spur Crowley onwards and add fuel to their fire. The band attack their instruments with greater gusto and creates a sound that’s truly awe-inspiring, then sets the venue aflame with the final track, ‘Pyre’.
A one-man army (quite literally), Foul Body Autopsy appears as if from a crack in the matrix, and is a project that’s the brainchild of Tom Reynolds, an artist who pulls all sorts of magic from his guitar. Filling the air with razor-sharp riffs that cut like a scythe and adding some caustic, corrosive vocals, Foul Body Autopsy is brutal and bombastic (everything good metal should be) and makes for a pretty intense experience, proving that sometimes less is definitely more.
Attacking the stage like birds of prey, Maatkare are a band that offers no quarter and goes straight in for the kill. If you can judge a band by a crowd’s reaction, then Maatkare are in fine fettle, and a visceral pit is testament to their power. Yet it’s definitely a two-way street, with musicians and audience feeding off each other’s energy, raising the intensity exponentially. From the first note to the final wall of feedback, this is full-on and feisty (but tons of fun), and it means the band have made more than a few friends today.
Whilst melody might be a dirty word for some, for Mayfire, it is definitely a virtue, and they put it at the heart of everything they do. It means that no matter how heavy things get (and they get pretty weighty), there’s a strong groove at their core, making this music you can dance and mosh to (preferably both at the same time). The cloaks and masks Mayfire wear add a layer of mystery and intrigue, and that, in turn, places great emphasis on the music, and that’s exactly where our attention should be.
Belfast is a city that breeds hardy folk, and if proof were needed, we need look no further than Survivalist. The sweetest guys who undergo a werewolf-like transformation when they pick up instruments, and they suddenly omit a sense of danger and radiate sonic violence. Their (not so) secret weapon is a drummer who powers them forward with unstoppable force and seems intent on nailing his kit to the floor. Not wishing to be outdone, the rest of the band are equally vivacious and lock in tightly to deliver a tightly wound set of songs that suggests Survivalist are here to stay.
Think of Weimar cabaret updated for the new millennium, performed by the Alice Cooper band whilst collaborating with Jim Steinman, and you’d have something approaching Ward XVI. The unbridled insanity with which the band operate indicates that they really have escaped from a psych ward and found themselves on stage at Uprising. It doesn’t take long for vocalist Psychoberrie to make the first of several sojourns into the crowd, raising the temperature by a few degrees and threatening to take things off the Richter Scale. Making great use of various props, there’s a strong theatrical bent to Ward XVI, but even if you were to strip away the upright coffins and inflatable chainsaws, the band could quite easily get by on the strength of their songs. Expect to see Ward XVI in an asylum near you very soon.
With a steamroller of a sound that crushes all in its path, Gurt aren’t a band for the faint of heart. Ferocious and unforgiving, if they were a boxer, they’d be Mike Tyson; all heavy blows and potent punches. Operating with a wild-eyed stare that hints at the criminally insane or the mildly psychotic (take your pick), vocalist Gareth Kelly is a singer who uses the microphone for a touch of primal scream therapy, pulling some startling screams and bowel-loosening grunts from the depths of his psyche. The band are equally dynamic, delivering a sludgy sound that’s rich and golden, infused with punk, doom and death, and stomping like an angry Golem on a rampage. If that all sounds a tad serious, then Gurt don’t take themselves too seriously and deliver songs about weed and Satan in a bright and breezy fashion. It’s an interesting tension of opposites and marks Gurt as one to watch.
Originally formed by the mysterious artist credited as “No One”, The Sun’s Journey Through The Night now operate as a quartet and deliver an ambient/black metal hybrid that’s rich in symbolism. The band keeps an air of intrigue around themselves, hiding behind masks and keeping their identities opaque, which benefits their songs. Both visually and sonically arresting, the band patiently build atmospheric soundscapes, temples constructed from glistening ice that shine dark light in all directions. The style of black metal in which the band deal is often something you feel rather than react to, yet this crew prove the exception to the rule, and as their sound wisps through the air like a fleet of Valkyries, it causes many present to lose their cool (but in the best possible way) and instigates plenty of crowd participation. A set which finds The Sun’s Journey Through The Night burning brightly.
HAWXX are in the process of ripping up the rulebook. Not only are they bringing their politically-charged brand of punk into the previously non-partisan world of heavy metal, but they’re also disposing of all the tired old clichés, most notably the macho posturing usually associated with the genre. Case in point being the replacement of the “Wall Of Death” with that of “Love”, the violent melee exchanged for high fives all around. However, when it comes to music, HAWXX can trade blows with anyone and meld the rage of Penis Envy-era Crass to some of the heaviest riffs ever invented. It’s a potent mix, with each drum beat detonating like a depth charge, sending shock waves throughout the venue. HAWXX are closely knit collective and derive much of their power from that tightness, so I’m pleased to report that the recent line-up change has closed their circle further, and on the strength of today’s set, 2026 could be their best year.
The buzz surrounding Breed 77’s appearance means a huge crowd has filled the large room, which hosts the Total Rock Stage, and even the roadies are getting a cheer as final checks are made. It makes the countdown to showtime painfully slow; seconds turn into minutes until the lights dim and a huge cheer fills the darkness. A rubber band stretched to snapping point, then finally released, you can feel the tension evaporate as Breed 77 arrive at the optimum moment and bounce around the stage like a gang of whirling dervishes. Tracks such as ‘Outside’ perfectly capture the power of music; it’s life-affirming and unifies various tribes in a love of the loud. Breed 77’s reformation in 2021 was obviously no exercise in nostalgia, and if proof were needed, look no further than the stage where you’ll find the band playing with an energy that belies their years. Breed 77 put their own spin on The Cranberries’ ‘Zombie’ (which is how covers should be handled), initiating a huge sing-along and finding them departing on a high.
If there was one band that could build upon the good vibes generated by Breed 77, then it is surely perpetual loonies Lawnmower Deth. Having first caught them live back in 1989 (their gigs in Milton Keynes passed into folklore), they were the perfect antidote to the angst-ridden rock that would define the era, and here they are 35 years later; older, but none the wiser, and serving a similar purpose. Fan favourite ‘Weebles Wobble But They Don’t Fall Down’ has aged like malt liquor and sits well next to newer cut ‘Botheration’. We have seen some (very) strange things at Lawnmower gigs, but vocalist Pete ordering the crowd to rush outside and bring in those sunning themselves on the patio is one of the best (naturally, the crowd do it). Lawnmower Deth took the anarchy and irreverence of TV shows The Young Ones and Bottom and set it to music. They were a whole lot of fun, and it’s to their credit that they still are, and that’s not a bad legacy to have.
The two stages at Uprising have been curated very well, not only for the variety of bands, but also for how the running order has been pieced together. With no two bands inhabiting the same sonic space, the day has ebbed and flowed very well, and whilst InMe might not be your first thought when thinking Uprising, on the day’s curve, it makes perfect sense. The crowd certainly think so and welcomes InMe to the stage like returning heroes, the band playing their part with a take-no-prisoners attitude, vocalist Dave McPherson particularly animated, singing with passion and wringing every drop of emotion from each note. They are another established band who’ve reformed after a lengthy hiatus, yet this set is no mere exercise in nostalgia. ‘Confession’ bodes well for the forthcoming album; it gets the whole crowd jumping in unison, and therein lies the power of music.
It must be hard for a band of Stampin’ Ground’s calibre to reform and recapture the energy they displayed three decades ago (and, believe me, Stampin’ Ground were energetic). Having toured with everyone from Anthrax to Soulfly, not only were they one of the hardest playing bands of that era, they were one of the hardest working, too. It’s not always an easy thing to carry over the years, even more so authentically, yet it’s a hurdle the band have passed effortlessly. Evidencing a sound that’s akin to two rats fighting in a sack, it’s bloodthirsty, brutal and bursting at the seams with vitriol. It is hardcore with a metallic sheen, the kind the UK does so well, a spark causing a wildfire, it sets off all sorts of mayhem. A swirling pit erupts around the mixing desk, sucking the unwary into its vortex, plus there’s an actual “Wall Of Death” (Sick Of It All style), replete with broken teeth and bloodied noses. On an already sweltering day, Stampin’ Ground raise the temperature a few degrees, the pit a twisted, writhing mass of sweaty limbs, yet both band and crowd drain the tank, drawing on their last reserves of energy to turn parting shot, ‘Officer Down’, into a caustic, cataclysmic closer and one which brings down the curtain on the Very Metal Stage in style.
With each band member attired all in black and wearing identical t-shirts, Pitchshifter cut the image of a gang who’ve just stepped out of the 1979 film, The Warriors. They sound like it too, with an industrial aesthetic that’s still far ahead of the cultural curve, as if beamed to us from a distant, dystopian future. ‘Triad’ is the opening gambit and finds the band locking in tightly, delivering riffs with mechanical precision and drums with rapid, machine-gun fire. It’s certainly not for the weak of constitution, with ‘Microwaved’ attacking the central nervous system and rendering the crowd susceptible to its charms. In line with the band’s approach, there’s very little time to waste on between song banter, the tracks unleashed at an alarming rate, it’s all very heart attack inducing (although vocalist JS Clayden finds time for some push ups mid-song, in double quick time, of course) and it gives Pitchshifter an erratic, amphetamine-fuelled vibe, which in turn renders the band edgy and exciting. It’s a career-spanning set list, with only their debut album unrepresented, but when ‘Whatever’ and ‘Virus’ are in a race to tumble from the speakers, few can have complaints about the song selection. The rhythms contained within ‘Please Sir’ have a strange effect on the crowd, a case of mass hypnosis, the kind of which could be dangerous in the wrong hands. It is with ‘Genius’ that Pitchshifter depart, offering a frightening glimpse at a not-too-distant future…which is exactly where they came in.
After last year’s pared-back edition, Uprising celebrates its tenth milestone edition in style, and such was its success that our thoughts are already turning to number eleven!
Review by Peter Dennis
Photos by Gary Trueman