Missives From The Mosh Pit Edge

Snaking silently north from Helsinki to Kemijärven, the railway track that runs parallel to The Gulf of Bothnia coastline is known as Line 7. It passes through Tampere, Seinäjoki, Oulu and Rovaniemi on its way to the far reaches of Lapland.

Like Route 66, it holds legendary status; it’s the vein that supplies life blood to venues such as Klubi, Rytmikorjaamo and Hevimesta. I’m sitting aboard IC 177; carriage 4, seat 19 of this real Rock n Roll Train, ready to depart Helsinki Central; destination Tampere.

Flying distance London to Helsinki is 1820km and takes three hours.

Railtrack distance Helsinki Central to Tampere is 170km and takes one and a half hours.

Walking distance Tampere Station to Dream Hotel is 320 metres and takes one hour and twenty minutes 😳.

Huh? What? I offer no rational explanation; I am merely blessed with a catastrophic lack of navigational skills buoyed by a wildly disproportionate level of optimism which consistently, literally, ultimately leads me down the wrong path every time my feet hit cement.

Check into hotel, chuck bag on bed, charge back out 😡.

Turmion Kätilöt’s offensive is already underway as I reach Klubi. Stress and exasperation are instantly vapourised by the onslaught of sound catapulted into the crowd by the six Finnish Berserkers onstage. A glorious train wreck of TechnoDisco mangled with Industrial, Metal and a pneumatic drill, there is a certain perverse tranquility to be found amidst the bedlam now tearing frenetically round the room.

I await the coming of one song in particular, and here it is! Tirehtööri. I’m SO ready! While the band hit full throttle and railroad through this great tune, my fellow travellers and I join in, ‘turpa kii, turpa kii, hui hai, hui hai, turpa kii’ ( ‘shut up, shut up, whatever, whatever, shut up ‘). Joy 😍.

Oh, and by the way, did I mention that ‘vittu’, the word I learned in Helsinki last week courtesy of Mr Tägtgren’s chant from the stage as Mr Andersson teetered on a balcony handrail, 5 metres above, ready to jump, does not mean ‘hurry up’? Hmm, nope, it doesn’t. It really, really doesn’t 😱. I have now stopped muttering it under my breath every time I stand in a queue in Finland 😱😱. I’m very sorry, in particular, customers in Focus supermarket, Helsinki and Christmas shop, Helsinki Airport 😱😱😱.

While demonstrating my proficiency in the Finnish language, I’m simultaneously planning an offensive of my own; the conquest of Front of Stage.

Instead of initially being a stroke of luck finding myself touching the barrier at the wonderful Aalborg Metal Festival, I now regard attaining pole position as one of the main objectives of my day, along with not getting murdered en route to my Hotel post-gig and resisting Croissants & Nutella for breakfast.

The fabulous Klubi is bursting at the seams and as Turmion finish their set I’m caught and jostled by the scramble of retreating Metallers heading to the bar. I catch a tantalising glimpse of the stage itself. OH MY GOD! THERE IS NO BARRIER! VITTUUU!!

Now, with no goal other than to get my arms on that stage, I pinball forwards through the mass of sweaty bodies rocking towards me and minutes later, incredibly, I’m there; phone, lippy AND handbag ( how Metal is THAT?! ) joining elbows on the boards by a monitor. I look around with breathless delight and notice the more experienced Elbows-on-Stagers have glasses of beer teasingly lined up in front of them. I’m sooo envious!🍺😛. I also notice a familiar face; The Girl With Purple Hair is here too!

Waiting for the show to start is an exquisite agony; senses awaken and spark to life; everything is heightened, clear, vibrant; fireflies frenzy in your belly; fluttering wings ignite the pleasure of being alive, here, now. All around I see happy, smiling Painheads anticipating the arrival of their band and we’re all beginning to feel the urgency; excitement has been usurped by impatience and we can no longer wait; now, PAIN, NOW! NOOOOWWW!!!

The lights extinguish and for a brief moment we are plunged into complete darkness before PAIN illuminate the stage and create an overwhelming deluge of sound which cascades over the hungry crowd, encircling, submerging. ‘I was born to raise Hell. Not in God’s favour, I will burn for my sins’, sings Mr Tägtgren, halo clattering to the floor.

While Sebastian relentlessly pounds the drums with a ferocity and confidence belying his years, his father and fellow bandmates pound the stage with an intensity and enthusiasm belying theirs. This perfect storm of experience, fire and passion inundates the audience and we welcome the fury with an ocean of swaying arms.

Of course, such a performance would ring hollow without great songs to support the antics onstage. No amount of follicly-centric gymnastics, rock n roll posturing and airborne freestyling could disguise a weak tune.

Mr Tägtgren’s musical and lyrical imagination acknowledges neither boundary nor limit. Fearlessly detonating a cache of artistic stun grenades, the songs played are but one small reflection of his prolific, schizophrenically creative mindset.

From the confrontational opening number, ‘Designed To Piss You Off’, through the thundering ‘End Of The Line’ and the irresistible Young/Young/Scott inspired AC/DC Fan catnip, ‘Dirty Woman’, to the instantly catchy final tune, ‘Shut Your Mouth’, the songs are like a deliciously naughty birthday treat to the ears, in turn seducing then walloping the senses with a salvo of brutal, unrelenting rhythms & melody. The songs entice and thrill, making you headbang with reckless abandon and sing out loud.

And that is precisely what I’m doing now. Singing out loud. ‘Shut Your Mouth’. Into the microphone held in front of my face. OH MY GOD!!! Just as I no longer worry about being in the front row, I also no longer hide during the last song when Mr Tägtgren is in the immediate vicinity, fishing for victims, wielding a rod.

This fine evening, I happily warble with a smile, haha, ignoring the Little Red Devil sitting on my left shoulder. He has a middle finger up to the Angel on my right and is whispering suggestions in my ear about what I should actually sing; something very different from the official lyric. While I do agree it’s a great idea and would make me laugh like a loon, I absolutely do not dare utter one word deviating from what is expected for fear of Mr Tägtgren not finding it quite so funny 😄👿😳.

The band, another gig over, another audience left stunned, bid us goodnight and I retreat to the bar for water and a beer. As I flick through, edit and delete gig photos on my phone I notice The Girl With Purple Hair and her Boyfriend close by. I’ve seen them so many times now in passing, I must say hello tonight.

As we introduce ourselves, we happen upon a Swedish Painhead, also a regular to front of stage. I recognise his face and for the first time, ever, with anyone, ever, have a proper conversation about PAIN, the music, the shows, and it is absolutely wonderful.

Before the night is over, I will share a few more drinks with this little band of Scandinavian nomads; they are charming and lovely.

It is late when I get back to the Dream Hotel. I lie awake for a long time then sit at the window to watch snow fall onto the deserted street below. All is calm, bright, peaceful, quiet, there is no one around. Only my thoughts and me.

My journey is almost at an end. How the hell do I go back to real life after this?

🎸 Youtube  Pain- Shut Your Mouth @ Tampere 24.11.2016