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Sonisphere Festival 2011: Saturday Rolling Review

Day Two of the Knebworth bash is up and running - check out all the action here.

We are up and running at Sonisphere again - heads are sore and the sun's trying its hardest to peek out from behind the crowds.... and there's a fuckload of awesome bands on today.

Click here for a full review of Friday's action and if you want to jump ahead to Sunday, click here.

Opening the main stage to a sizeable and dedicated crowd, SYLOSIS get blood pumping and heads banging. The tough thing with a stage this size is that it can swallow you whole if you have a lack of charisma and gusto and that’s a definite issue for the Hertfordshire metallers. While they’ve clearly got riffs that can rumble the floor like that big mofo from Jurassic Park, and the metal public lap up every last widdling solo and crunchy, punishing riff, until the band become more of a visual tour de force, they’re destined to look like a band that are slightly out of their depth. (TB)



As sure as night follows day, water is wet and James Corden is a massive bell-end, you can bet your entire life savings that WHILE SHE SLEEPS are going to do incredibly special things over the course of the next 12 months. With only a mini-album and a single to their name, the Sheffield bruisers bring the house down with a set that is way more accomplished than a band in their infancy should be capable of. Frontman Lawrence Taylor is a fire-blooded riot starter, being held aloft by the security and getting face-to-face and eye-to-eye with the front few rows. His bandmates create an apocalyptic hell onstage with energy to burn and enormous amounts of star appeal wherever you decide to feast your eyes. The chant along from the rabid throng that greets ‘The North Stand For Nothing’, ‘Be(lie)ve’ and a set-stealing ‘Crows’ are deafening. All of this while playing a traditional ‘hangover’ slot makes this feel like a landmark set for a band that are destined for the greatest of things. Believe the hype, While She Sleeps are going to be a household name in the very, very near future. (TB)



ARCHITECTS deserve some sort of recognition, formal recognition, for rallying a crowd into professional levels of crowdsurfing at a time when their cornflakes / scrambled eggs / cider have yet to settle in the stomach. This is no modest feat. Like, some of these kids will have done a puke, for sure. But physical sacrifice is just one of the most profound ways a crowd can show their appreciation for a band who bring the jams.The sun's out and Sam Carter looks like he's just fallen off his surfboard and taken up the mic. This'll probably be the last time we see him working the red-eye shift at a festival like this. With anthems such as 'Learn To Live' and the balls to bring the show no matter the hour, they've got their pass stamped for lie-in next time round.JH



The first thing that has to be said for the first GALLOWS show post-Frank’s decision to quit is that the vibe both onstage and off is weird as fuck. Apparent onstage obituaries being read by the singer (despite the fact that the band are continuing without their iconic vocalist) is slightly in bad taste and the show seems to lack Gallows' trademark intensity. It’s not that it’s even that bad a show, 'Abandon Ship' and 'London Is The Reason' can’t ever fail to hit the spot, it’s just that the usual feeling you get from this band, the feeling that both band and audience are united as one, can’t be there because the band onstage aren’t united as one. It’s cool that Frank is happy to do a separate project and that there is no apparent bad-blood between the Gallows boys and their singer is heartening for a band that have always come across as family more than just a collective, but, ultimately, it’s a sombre performance from a band that have always traded on being the most electrifying band on the planet. (TB)



When you specialise in writing melodic, uplifting anthems that are built for ice lollies and high-fives, that it pisses down to such an extent that you half expect two of every kind of animal to bowl past is mighty unfortunate. KIDS IN GLASS HOUSES have that harsh set of circumstances and even with new single 'Animal' pumping harder than a motherfucker, the likes of 'Undercover Lover' are lost in conditions that would be better suited to Watain. Basically, the elements conspire to rob KIGH of the momentous triumph they so richly deserve. (TB)





Thank God for BAD RELIGION, who are just what we need as the heavens open up (Download flashback, anyone?). The SoCal heroes could pick their set from anywhere in their back catalogue (perhaps sidestepping 83’s ‘Into The Unknown’) and have the crowd eat it right up - but, fortunately, there’s nothing self-indulgent about their set, as they have the fans in mind throughout; pulling out a retrospective of their back catalogue, alternating between ‘21st Century (Digital Boy)’,‘Sorrow’, and ‘Infected.' And when that set is bookended by ‘Resist Stance’ from their newest record, and ‘Fuck Armageddon… This Is Hell!’ from their debut album, it’s impossible to fault their performance - or their status as punk rock legends. (AB)

Canada's SUM 41 at least know the basics of a crowd-pleasing set (though, admittedly, this is identical – right down to the points they initiate crowd interaction – to their set at Czech festival Rock For People on Sunday last week). But when they pull out hits like ‘Over My Head (Better Off Dead)’, ‘Fat Lip’ and ‘Still Waiting’, it’s easy to see why they’ve gone for maximum audience satisfaction over an out-of-leftfield set – and the response they get is rapturous. They have been doing that ‘Master Of Puppets’ cover since 03 though, so it might be time to mix things up - perhaps ‘Reign In Blood’ for the next touring cycle? Just a thought... (AB)

Okay, what is up with the crowd restrictions over at the Red Bull tent? While we’re really glad you’re making sure we’re safe, REVOKER’s set just isn’t as good when stood among a hundred disgruntled metalheads outside a tent in the pouring rain (not least because the tent doesn’t actually seem to be that full? Just saying...). From what this reviewer can see past the crowd, though, the band earn their keep in the tent at least – pulling out a worthy tribute to yesterday’s old school line-up with solos and marvellous theatrically-delivered vocals throughout, but keeping it modern through melodic choruses and crushing metalcore breakdowns.From a better vantage point, this would have been a highlight. (AB)



Back on the Apollo stage, YOU ME AT SIX walk out as soon as the heavens open (err.. again), and truth be told it takes them more than a few songs to hit their stride. Having just begun a new touring cycle after six or so months off to record their much-awaited third record, we'll forgive them for being a little rusty. Franceschi's vocals aren't as strong as normal - the sound of his speaking voice between songs hints that his voice is not at its healthiest - and with a seemingly impossible fight to win over a largely unresponsive crowd, this is certainly one of You Me At Six's more forgettable performances. Not quite the explosive rebirth we were expecting, but we can't deny them for trying. (AR)

It doesn't matter that the sky has burst itself all over the site, not when you're under the roof of the Bohemia stage and not one of the many pour souls trapped outside, dying of exposure: 'cos inside, PULLED APART BY HORSES are bursting themselves open with lithe weirded-out punk grooves and experimental hardcore. This is a proper spectactle. They got the coolest band name, ever, and the coolest songtitles too. The Yorkshire men are the sort of thoroughbred entertainers to take alternative whatever-rock forward, putting themselves at risk of injury for favour of their art and actually putting riffs and hooks to the crazy Big Ideas that all the world's free-thinkers have. 'Meat Balloon' and chips, please. (JH)



Poor, poor ALL TIME LOW. They’re proof that no matter how sunny your melodies and choruses, there’s no scope to draw a big crowd in a torrential rainstorm. That’s a damn shame, too, as they offer up every hit they have to the dwindling crowd. And while newer songs ‘I Feel Like Dancin’’ and ‘Forget About It’ don’t provoke such a huge response as ‘Lost In Stereo’ and ‘Weightless’, vocalist Alex Gaskarth and guitarist Jack Barakat successfully utilise every crowd-pleasing trick they have to those braving the rain (to the extent that their command for everyone to go and watch Weezer is taken literally – and about 50 per cent of the crowd leave before their set ends. Awkward.). (AB)



Over at the Apollo stage, there’s a feeling of unity going on that only WEEZER can create. For the large portion of their set, this is an impeccable hit-parade and a lesson in how to bring people together in a muddy field, get them singing their hearts out and keep their attention for almost the entire duration. Rivers Cuomo is the awkward enigma to watch; delving back and forth between the stage and the crowd to cut some geek moves, and with a procession of ‘Say It Ain’t So’, ‘Beverley Hills’, ‘Teenage Ditbag’, ‘Dope Nose’ and ‘Island In The Sun,’ they provide one of the most satisfying and straight up fun 20 minutes or so of any festival set ever. And then they follow it up with a cover of ‘Paranoid Android’ to kill everyone’s buzz. Ever the surprise, this lot. Still despite that blip, Weezer deliver as promised. (AR)

THE MARS VOLTA are very much a band’s band, or a musician’s band at least – with a countless number of artist laminates among the crowd and the side-stage area packed out. Their pioneering math-rock isn't for everyone, though – when their more traditionally-structured songs like ‘The Widow’ and ‘Goliath’ are such focused bursts of energy, it’s almost a little frustrating when things dissolve into their signature jam session-style instrumentals. Arguably, that kind of set is actually pretty suited to a festival crowd, with people flitting in and out of the masses in front of the Saturn stage as and when an extended riff or bridge catches their ears – but not necessarily sticking around for longer than that. (AB)

GOJIRA have been posted missing for a couple of years now, and given that they were badged as the saviours of metal, fitting somewhere between Meshuggah's gourmet rhythm chugga and Morbid Angel's chaotic riff paterns, that's been a real bummer. It also has every metal head onsite, as in, everyone not interested in Biffy's feelgood stadium anthems has headed to the Bohemia stage. It's packed. Two circle pits break out. And that's just outside the tent. Most people can't get in and security have to double-up, man-up and hold the barriers back as people try force their way in. You can understand everyone's concern, here: security are shitting it, someone could get hurt; and those stuck outside listening in to Mario Duplantier's double-kick drum apocalypse are getting driven on with the desire just to be part of it. Seriously, there is no better live metal band. The French quartet, backbone provided by sticksman Duplantier and his brother and frontman, Joe, are peerless. That shreik 'n' squeal thing they've got going on with the guitars... Man, that's some call of the wild shit. And the kids went feral for it tonight.(JH)

WATAIN, for any of you tempted to open a new tab and Google, are black metal's most important band, currently at least. They're from Uppsala, Sweden. It's not that what they are doing with their Luciferian cosmic voodoo chatter is particularly different, for their harsher riffs are a bit like a less grandiose Dissection, a band from whom Watain take most of their cures. But what Watain do is gather the clans under the Trident. The Red Bull Bedroom Jam stage is flanked with flaming Tridents, candles and all the usual occultist paraphernalia that helps keep the atmosphere, umm, proper fucking nasty. This is black metal as ritual, expunging any concerns that Watain's sound is not the most furious, not the most iconoclastic: all that matters for an hour or so (it's difficult to track time) is Erik Danielson's message. 'Sworn To The Dark' is as good a mission statement for an extreme metal band as you could get, and you could be tempted to say that it should be an entry requirement for all who want to ensconce themselves among music's extremists. Watain draw you in; if they're not quite hypnotic their definitely compelling, engaging everyone to take part. 100 per cent. There can be no passengers when celebrating Danielson's most harrowing track, 'Total Funeral'. Total is the operative word. The aroma of rotten oxen blood is not as strong tonight but the music's message has never been so emphatic. Hey folks, evil is where it's at. (JH)

BIFFY CLYRO came to this festival as the headliner underdogs – with The Big Four one side and, well, fucking Slipknot on the other, even here at the RS camp we’ve been debating whether they’re capable of topping festivals of this size yet. From the explosive opening of ‘The Captain’, streamers and all, they spend the next two hours putting on a display that will likely leave the doubters eating their words. With the extended set length, there’s even room enough for ‘Stress On The Sky’ and ‘All The Way Down’, which, while they bemuse a fair portion of the crowd, provide a small treat for the Biffy die-hards. Biffy have approached tonight with the intention of making a spectacle, and by no means do they skimp on production either. From the giant balloon machine that accompanies ‘Bubbles’, to the perfectly choreographed flames and explosions that dance around ‘Who’s Got A Match?’,everything sounds, looks and feels exceptional. If there was any question about it, Biffy are a headline band now, and tonight has done nothing but confirm it. (AR)