Review: Nikki Hallam
For the 34th time, the sleepy village of Wacken, in Northern Germany (population: 1,800 on a normal day), once again transformed into the Heart of Heavy Metal, welcoming over 85,000 headbanging Wayfarers from across the globe. Whether you arrived with a battle vest covered in patches, a tractor to transport your campground hot tub,or you just followed the flames of the bullhorn with nothing but your drinking horn. Wacken Open Air 2025 demanded everything, stamina, spirit and a neck strong enough to survive a week of headbanging.
This year’s line-up? An unapologetic flex. Guns N’ Roses making their Wacken debut, Wasp, Mastodon, King Diamond, Saltatio Mortis. With bands like Papa Roach, Static X and Ugly Kid Joe, there really was something for every kind of metal head.
Wacken isn’t just a festival, it’s a Crusade. A badge of honour. A chaotic, muddy, electrifying rite of passage where legends are born, dreams are lived and heavy metal feels more alive than anywhere else on earth. This being my 9th Wacken I was prepared and ready for the days ahead, ‘Rain or Shine’, or so I thought….
Our arrival at the Holy Land began on Sunday, led by a procession of seasoned Wacken veterans crawling onto the festival grounds in a steady, dusty stream of cars and campervans. Now, I’m not saying I made the journey from Hamburg while lounging in the back of a caravan towed by a van down the Autobahn, because that would, of course, be wildly illegal, but let’s just say it was the most relaxed arrival to Wacken I’ve ever had. From there, it was straight into survival mode. The evening quickly blurred into Monday morning as we hammered in tent pegs, wrestled with wind-whipped pavilions and even constructed a perimeter fence. All in a race against the weather and our own questionable engineering skills. Someone, inevitably, used a crushed beer can as a hammer and by the time the sun rose to midday, the finishing touches were being added. Our Flagpoles were hoisted, sporting flags from all over, basically the United Nations, but with more mud and better beer.
Monday was meant to be the best weather day for the entire week, so we took the opportunity and had a cocktail party at camp then made the mission into the village to see Danish old school death metallers Bæst take to the LGH Club stage and it was busy! Inside was a sweaty pressure cooker and frontman Simon Olsen wasted no time unleashing mayhem, high-kicking into Misfortunate Son and triggering a wave of pure carnage.The pit? A swirling mass of towering blokes throwing themselves around like demolition balls, less dance floor, more dangerous primal therapy session. Bæst owned every inch of the stage, each member shining with frontman-level charisma, making it impossible to pick just one focal point. Then, just as things hit fever pitch, torches flash in the pit, someone is down.
The band stops immediately and the medics are called in. What follows is a chaotic blur of sweaty, shirtless dudes trying to give medical advice to the actual medics while a man is carried out of the venue by the very demolition balls that knocked him down! Once it was confirmed everyone remaining was okay, the show powered on and the energy never dipped. Guitarist Lasse Revsbech riffed his way through King of the Sun, pulling Jim Carrey-esque faces at the crowd like some maniacal metal goblin. Bæst put on one hell of a performance, watching their raw energy engaging this Wacken crowd was like tossing Petrol on an already raging bonfire and it was an unstoppable feedback loop of energy. What a wild, unexpected way to start the week. As we bottle-necked out of the venue with a thousand other sweaty go-getters, we limped back to camp and carried on with a very metal-appropriate bubble party.
Tuesday began with a groggy awakening, the kind only Wacken can deliver, to the roar of engines and the smell of exhaust. The Wasteland Warriors’ daily ‘car drive’ came rumbling through the main campground area, a convoy of post-apocalyptic cars and spiked-out bikes straight out of Mad Max. Flares hissed and makeshift weapons waved as the warriors paraded past like a dystopian welcome committee. A walk around this year’s campground shopping area was a beast, anything your metal heart desired could be bought or bartered for. Kilts, patches, band merch, drinking horns and of course this year’s must have, rubber boots.
While the main festival area wasn’t open yet, that meant the party was at the Welcome to the Jungle stage and the biggest party of the day was German musical comedian Mambo Kurt of course. Of Wacken fame and armed with his home organ, he ripped through his dance style covers of many heavy metal genres and even some absolutely wild originals. Complete with go-go dancers plucked from the audience, he knows how to rally a crowd. There were even some mega Mambo Kurt fans who dragged their own organ through the mud to the front of the stage to play with him. I mean, did you even go to Wacken if you didn’t see Mambo Kurt? The rest of the day swelled into the evening and became a beer fuelled reunion party at the Rendsburger camp, swigging their tap beer and climbing on top of their trailer, you get an amazing view of the festival campsite.
Wednesday brought the big rain, a storm even, lucky we bought those rubber boots because you needed them to go anywhere, the mud was already ankle deep in some places. Naturally, we kicked off the day with a hilarious group spa session, face masks on, guided meditation in full swing and ended with a collective, “Slayerrrrrrrr!”
Feeling (relatively) refreshed, we charged through the torrential rain toward the Wasteland Stage to catch US thrash titans Warbringer. Frontman John Kevill, sword aloft like a mosh-pit warlord, commanded a roaring circle pit at the front. As they played through The sword and the Cross the energy was relentless despite the downpour and sludge. By the time we arrived halfway through the set, we could barely make out their shadowy silhouettes through the rain cascading off our ponchos. They wrapped up with Remain Violent and Total War, each one sparking a tidal wave of chants from the Wasteland crowd.
A quick swoon by the Louder stage to see a Musician that needs no introduction, Runaways lead guitarist Lita Ford. “Great Rockstars never die!” She screams out as she pulls out a double necked guitar and asks for help to sing Close My Eyes Forever which was a duet she wrote together with Ozzy Osbourne in 1988. Lots of swaying hands in the audience pay a wholesome tribute before she closes with the infamous Kiss me Deadly.
Opening the Faster stage, we trudge on for Tuscan Power Metal Dwarves, Wind Rose and their fans were ready! Blow up pick axes and shovels as far as the eye can see across the infield skyline. Before they play through Fellows of the Hammer, Frontdwarf Francesco Cavalieri asks, “Brothers and sisters, are you ready to fight with the dwarven army?” We were indeed.
Francesco’s vocals soar with operatic power and remarkable range, leading those deep, masculine harmonies through a setlist that carries us deep inside the magic secrets of a dwarven mountain. During the song, Mine, Mine, Mine, they chant and command us, there’s really something dangerously catchy about this melody. For their show stopper song, Diggy Diggy Hole, they announced a special guest, Saltatio Mortis vocalist Alea ‘Jörg Roth’ der Bescheidene to support in the business of digging holes. Just when we thought the song was over, the stage erupted into a dwarven dance party as they played a techno dance version for the last chorus. Tens of thousands of metal heads jumping and pretending to dig holes in the Holy land in the rain, was just your casual Wednesday at Wacken I suppose.
Sliding our way through the Wackinger village to eat some meat on sticks, we come across another of Wacken’s roving bands Blades of Glory. This band of madmen in their 80’s glam style attire are absolutely mischievous and talented musicians, they start playing and suddenly we’re surrounding them watching another show. They play silly marching band style covers of metal songs and oh boy are they fun to watch. Instrument changes mid song, we see banjos, accordians, a sousaphone, symbols, guitar, clarinet, drums, even a Xylophone and somehow they can even do the can-can while playing. They are always a highlight.
The evening’s faster-stage headliners, Germany’s Saltatio Mortis, hit the stage for their 25th anniversary show, a performance promised to be epic in scale and they more than delivered. While it was indeed the wettest day of the week, the infield was still full of eager metalheads ready to get medieval. Gasps rippled through the crowd as frontman Alea ‘Jörg Roth’ der Bescheidene was suspended in midair above the stage. Like a heavy metal dementor, he spread his arms wide, microphone poised and prepared to unleash the opening notes of Finsterwacht. Now when I say this show had it all, I mean it. We saw a special performance of Feuerr & Erz with Chinese musician Tina Guo on the electric cello.
There were hurdy-gurdy and pan flute solos, not to mention the bagpipe changes, Saltatio Mortis could probably have their own bagpipe store at this point. A saga-worthy pyro display lit up the stage, lines of fire snaked across it, hooded performers wielded torches and bursts of flames erupted in every direction. Jörg’s acoustic vocals call out over the infield, beginning their version of My mother told me/Vallhalla Calling as he is joined by Gavin Dunne from Miracle of Sound, a clear fan favourite. Jörg calls for his boat and out of nowhere, an inflatable Viking ship magically appears. In the middle of the biggest downpour, he climbs in, and the crowd carries the soggy vessel across the infield.
Like a very wet balancing act fueled by pure luck and some serious leg day gains, he manages to crowd-surf in his Viking boat throughout the entire Rattenfänger set. Then just when we thought things couldn’t get any weirder (anything is possible at Wacken) 80’s aerobic instructors arrive on the stage and they cover Electric Callboy’s Hypa Hypa. Fearless, Jörg hikes up his pants and plunges into the crowd again, this time on foot, charging to the heart of the moshpit and commanding a swirling, muddy circle pit to crash around him. Emerging from the chaos and coated head to toe in mud, he climbs the security railing and screams in German, “This is Wacken!” With a mud-splattered face and fire in his eyes, he set the bar for every frontman at this year’s festival, embracing the bad weather conditions, as they closed with a powerful, emotional rendition of Spielmannsschwur.
The storm hit hard, turning the infield into a muddy maze, but everyone pitched in, pulling each other up out of the muck and fueled by a few late-night Knobi bread snacks, we made our way back to camp. Through the rain and blackened sky, the main stage lights shone like our very own Batman symbol, guiding us home for an early night before the madness of the days ahead.
