It’s a blisteringly hot day. Streams of sweaty metalheads pour from the humid dark of the U-Bahn into the daylight, flinching like vampires. Berlin may be in the middle of a heatwave, but that hasn’t deterred most of this crowd from arriving at the Olympiastadion in our finest black.
This is – by far – the grandest venue I have ever visited. The stadium and its statues dominate the surroundings, as it was designed to do, but at ground level, a makeshift festival has sprung into place.
As I head into the arena proper, I can’t help but notice the beer vending machines (“Bier Automat”) alongside the stern, brutalist-style sculptures. Everywhere, metalheads eat ice cream, sing, and drink beer in the sunshine.
Thankfully, our seats at the opposite end of the stadium from the stage are in the shade.
Most of the crowd are still wandering in when Acid Bath begin proceedings. At first, the sound is awful. It echoes in ways that totally distort the vocals and make it almost unlistenable, but then, all of a sudden, whatever has gone wrong is fixed. Something syncs up and we can hear the beat again. It hits like a bong rip.
The visuals are as psychedelic as you might expect as the band fuzz and sleaze their way through a handful of tracks. Of course, their songs are long and so we only get about five or six, but it’s more than enough to remind all onlookers just why Acid Bath are considered pioneers of sludge metal.
By the time they finish, the crowd has filled up nicely. Even those poor souls in direct sunlight are sizzling in their assigned seats, and the cheer echoes magnificently in the enormous space.
It isn’t long before the setup for Queens of the Stone Age is complete. Their backdrop – very cool, ropey light cables that hang at an angle behind the band – looks small on this stage, but the band take everything in their stride. They deliver a cool, polished set full of greatest hits, including the crowd-pleasing “Feel Good Hit of the Summer” that has most of us chanting along.
Hit after hit. Delivered with smooth confidence, like this is an intimate club show and not a giant, sweaty, roaring cauldron. The crowd approves.
There is surprisingly little time between Homme et al exiting the stage and System of a Down making their entrance.
What happens next is not a concert in the traditional sense. The crowd is whipped to a frenzy almost immediately. Pits appear before the opening song even really hits its stride. All of us in the stands are on our feet. The singing is so loud that the band is almost drowned out entirely.
System of a Down begin with “Soldier Side” and then launch straight into “B.Y.O.B.”
There’s no other way of putting it: the crowd goes absolutely nuts.
I find myself uttering “This is insane. This is insane!” more than once. I say it with a grin that has not left my face since the opening note of the set.
I’m not looking at the stage any more. My gaze has been drawn to the chaotic, frantic movement of the crowd below. Several red flares bloom in the middle of circle pits as smoke billows continuously. An entire stadium bounces.
The band, too, seem to feed off this bonkers energy. I notice frontmen Serj Tankian and Daron Malakian laughing as System churn out hit after hit after hit. I had almost forgotten just how many massive songs the band held in their back catalogue, the start of each new track greeted with another deafening roar of approval.
At no point does the energy of the crowd let up. If anything, it seems to be building to a crescendo.
“I am your ass,” announces Daron theatrically, “pull a tapeworm out of me!”
I notice that the band members, particularly Serj and Daron, seem a lot more relaxed and jovial around each other than I remember them being way back when I last saw them play at Download Festival in 2017. They even hug a few times, most poignantly after a moving rendition of “Roulette” (cue the phone torches and waving lighters).
As for the playing, it’s precise, it’s mad, and it’s soulful. Bassist Shavo Odadjian makes the complex lines look easy as he bounces around the stage, clearly having as good a time as any member of the audience. Drummer John Dolmayan absolutely kills it, and yet he still takes time to jokingly stare down the cameras as he plays, much to the amusement of the crowd.
I can pinpoint the exact moment during “Toxicity” when my voice gives out. It’s impossible not to sing, shout, and scream along as more flares erupt in the biggest pits I have ever seen.
The band is drowned out by us amateurs and I feel like a hardcore System of a Down football ultra. As the sun sets, Team SOAD is definitely winning.
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