Friday night Party.San Metal Open Air, and by now I was more beer than human — a stumbling, frothing hybrid of hops, smoke, and questionable life choices. But there are moments when you claw yourself out of the haze because hell is about to break loose. Gorgoroth was ready to hit the stage, and nothing short of death would keep me from the front.
Born in Bergen back in ’92, forged in frost and fire by Infernus — the last original soldier still standing — Gorgoroth is no band, they are an invocation. Nine albums deep, drenched in Satanic fury, they’ve never softened, never strayed, only sharpened the blade of Norwegian black metal to a weapon of pure blasphemy.
When they hit the stage, the night itself seemed to recoil. Infernus commanding the storm, riffs cutting like obsidian shards, the vocals a howl from the abyss, the entire performance a ritual drenched in malice and fire. The crowd didn’t just watch — they were swallowed, dragged into the darkness, willingly baptized in chaos.
It wasn’t a concert. It was a ceremony. And the black metal kings proved once more why their name is carved in blood across the history of the genre…😎🍻🌑