Sonisphere
Knebworth House, Hertfordshire
09/07/11 & 10/07/11

In February 2000, The Fly issued their review of Slipknot’s first ever London show. The heavy, Colosseum-esque atmosphere that consumed The Astoria for that debut performance may not have been our usual environment – certainly the other acts (The Bluetones, Moby, Beta Band, Seafood, the late Matthew Jay) that made up the magazine’s content that month weren’t prone to dressing up like Hannibal Lector and welcoming their audiences to “the sickness” – but the Iowan nine-piece made an incredible impact. In July that same year, three twenty year olds going by the odd name of Biffy Clyro featured in The Fly’s Ones To Watch pages. As noisy as they could sometimes be, the Scottish trio seemed to live in a different world to Slipknot.

And so it is with a great sense of bewilderment that The Fly, eleven years later, takes itself to Sonisphere to see these two bands go up against each other as headliners of a highly acclaimed, globe-trotting metal festival. The very universe itself seems astonished by how things have turned out. The wonky terrain at Knebworth suggests that the earth has slipped just slightly off its axis, and the heavy showers that break up bright sunshine come like gunfire and only add to the feeling that even God thinks this is bonkers.

Topless, as has become the norm, Biffy Clyro start off their Saturday slot at a sprint with ‘The Captain’. Streamers are pumped through the air in celebration of the band’s first major bill-topping slot and despite the size of the stage, the crowd’s familiar shouts of “Bi-ffy, Bi-ffy” help inject an intimate feel to the opening segment. During ‘Bubbles’, lots of tiny balloons float through the blackening sky, promising a powerful, poignant ninety minutes. The set starts to suffer, though, through lack of well-known ‘hits’. At this time of night, the audience want to sing along, but none of the band talk very much, and, instead, songs like ‘Born On A Horse’ and ‘All The Way Down’ feel interesting instead of party-starting. Neill’s vocals are immaculate, and the musicianship too, but despite some almost perfect moments – the flatlining ‘Living Is A Problem Because Everything Dies’, moving renditions of ‘Machines’ and ‘Many Of Horror’, a fabulously flailing ‘Who’s Got A Match?’ – there is definitely the sense that a band whose early career was defined by a valiant awkwardness but have metamorphosed into a more accessible outfit are struggling to know how to pitch a headline set. Let alone a headline set at a full-blooded metal festival.

Slipknot, of course, are more used to this kind of thing. But it’s been a hard, hard fourteen months for the band and this is the first time they’ve played in the UK since bassist Paul Gray died in May 2010. Tonight, his stage clothes and pig mask hang over a stand and his band of brothers whirl around the massive gap he’s left in Slipknot like a swarm of bats. Maybe as a result of all that emotion, the group sound edgier than they have in a while. The boiler suits help too – dressed once again in the red coveralls synonymous with the nonet’s inception, memories of that London debut over a decade ago are fresh in the mind. “How many people miss the London Astoria?” Corey Taylor asks. The crowd, naturally, bellow mournfully. Ultimately, though, tonight is all about the music and not where it’s being played – and as b crashes towards its conclusion, Slipknot are on fire. ‘Before I Forget’ has never felt so cathartic, and there’s a collective release of breath from the crowd; ‘Pulse Of The Maggots’ is deliciously unsettling; and ‘Disasterpiece’ takes on the weight of some fucked up kind of hymn. We may never see Slipknot perform again. But what a show to conclude with. Unforgettable.

Johnny K