Reviewing the entire Soundwave festival within the constraints of a few hundred words was never ever going to be an option so I’ve decided to concentrate solely upon some of the bands that have been getting less exposure. There’s no talk of the supremely-overrated Faith No More here, nor of the strung-out Jane’s Addiction, a band whose travelling circus has clearly reached the end of its season. Why? Reviews of both bands are already all over FasterLouder and there are plenty of bands who have yet to be discussed.

I’ll start with Californian post-metal outfit Isis, a band whose ability far outweighs its reputation and who continues to suffer the indignity of being largely ignored by the general music community; a gross lack of respect for one of the most unique and powerful acts operating today. Shoved way down the bill, Isis hit stage just after 2pm; a time when the showgrounds were just beginning to fill. Regrettably, for a band whose richly-layered three-guitar melodies invoke the darkness of solstice beneath the thickness of animal skins, it was the also the hottest part of the day and the faithful stood motionless and sweating amidst temperatures that soared well over 40 degrees inside the sweltering hall. Before a backend more reminiscent of 70s prog-rock than metal, vocalist Aaron Turner swirled and whipped his unabomber beard with such aplomb that he must’ve been thinking what he did to deserve to have to play in such an inferno.

Turner’s rage, for surely the heat was pissing him off as much as everyone else, was subsequently channeled into his booming low vocals, which terrorised the audience with a reverberant shudder that threatened to bring the tent down. Behind him, waves of post-metal guitars and keyboards swept over the masses in relentless tsunamis of thunder so thick that certain riffs seemed tangible at times. Isis was everything it set out to be: a giant wall of sound that carried the audience on a journey of progressive hard rock, infused with moments of post-apocalyptic ambiance. Performances were flawless and the mix faltered only at the introduction of Turner’s melodic vocals, which were dragged beneath the surface of the raging sea of guitars before they had made it beyond the first 10 rows.

Following Isis, the hall swelled for the arrival of Clutch, with the band rolling through their samely set as if on auto pilot. The performances were fine and the crowd seemed appeased, but Clutch failed to bring any real fire to its live show. Unable to stomach the cheesy German cock-rock of Anvil, I ventured out to see Reel Big Fish, and was pleasantly surprised. There’s a certain danger to what Reel Big Fish does, the jarring ska band brought the frenetic energy and aggression of punk truly front-and-centre during the 40-minute set, enveloping it within a huge array of styles but always retaining that punk edge. They also brought the rockabilly chicks out from under the trees, turning the crowd into a memorable gallery of coifs, chequered outfits and tattoo ink. The set was big on covers, and Metallica’s Enter Sandman, Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl and a-ha’s Take on Me were all given the ska treatment to the crowd’s delight. All in all, a very strong performance from a band not afraid to stand out from the rest.

Heading back to the safety of stage 4, anticipation was in the air for the most popular metal band on the bill, the mighty Meshuggah. Meshuggah’s set heavy in material from 2009’s Obzen, bar the obligatory inclusion of the anthemic Future Breed Machine owned, simply owned. With temperatures feeling closer to 50 degrees inside the tent, the swirling mosh took their lives into their own hands, thrashing violently for the duration of the set in a clear sign that this was the band that everyone came to see. Despite a bizarre lack of lighting until the final two songs, Meshuggah delivered in spades, churning out exact renditions of tracks with no deviation in style or form whatsoever. Regrettably, the spectacle of band’s live show remains at question and I wondered if the same effect could have been achieved by playing the CD at full volume in a room stacked with heaters. As stage performers, Meshuggah are flat-out boring, minimising interaction with the audience and struggling to break into even the slightest handbanging fervour. The crowd didn’t care. They lapped it up anyway.

Anthrax showed just how irrelevant they’ve become with a pretty average performance loaded with covers done plainly and with little change, while Trivium showed just how out of touch they have become with the metal crowd whose blessing they so desperately crave. Finishing off the metallers of interest, Whitechapel were everything you’d might expect from a deathcore band: brutal, precise and really boring after about three songs yet the band offered a respite from the heat outside and at the end of the day, as Mike Patton and his henchmen sucked up most of the cash on the mainstage, that was enough to hold the attention.

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