Yours truly had some serious preconceived ideas about Iced Earth. As far as I’m usually concerned, heavy metal is just noise that requires earplugs, even if it’s just on the radio.
The people at YleX Stage didn’t seem to share my worries about the band; the tent was packed with listeners as Iced Earth tried to blast the tent, the moorings and even the tent poles up in the sky with their music. The job must be done and the story written, so in defiance of all the dangers, the brave reporter risked life and limb and tried to squeeze into the crowd.
My first discovery was that the audience was amazingly varied. I had previously thought that the black-wearing metalheads were all men, long-haired and with beards at that. So the wide range of little boys, middle-aged women and girls with wild make-up was a surprise. I still think I’m in the wrong place, because all the songs sound the same to me, the audience seemed to communicate with the band by shouting and pumping their fists in the air.
Suddenly I recognise a melody. Maybe it’s from their own songs, maybe from Metallica’s, but I don’t really care where it comes from. I’m satisfied, one further connection to the band makes me feel more at ease and improves my mood greatly.
Suddenly a girl in red Wellington boots jumps next to me and starts moshing wildly. Curious. Another interesting find is the guy, who dances with shaman-like concentration, sometimes almost like praying to invisible gods and at times just squirming. Perchance he thought he were at some other band’s gig, but nobody’s passing judgement on him.
It seems that heavy music somehow spiritually connects these crazy metalheads together, for the mood and the feeling of being there together is overwhelming. I suddenly feel like belong here a bit more, I’m one of them for a while (even if I still don’t quite know what to think of the music and how anybody can enjoy that kind relentless blasting). I think I understand the heavy metal phenomena a bit better now that I’ve actually witnessed one of these events.
Luckily my mom had given my a pair of earplugs before Ilosaarirock, without those I don’t think I’d survived.
Text: Veera Konsti
Translation: Jari Rytkönen
Photo: Risto Kuittinen
