Walking on planet Roadburn can make you find yourself ‘living in the moment’, realizing what a lucky bastard you are to be there. Which can lead to an overwhelming sense of gratitude of having the privilege to be there, alive, in this corner of time. But the true power of this festival lies not it’s capacity for creating some kind of awakening and humbling experience. For me it ultimately lies in the experience during shows that all sense of self is gone. You are simply living in pure energy, connected to the cosmic. Not only do I know this now, but through Temple Fang I felt it, twice, and now I actually understand it.
Editor: Steven Gröniger
So, that might sound a little pretentious and/or pedantic (yes, although English isn’t my first language, it doesn’t hold me back using some fancy ass Thesaurus words if I can), but the realization of it all hit me really hard, in a good way and I’m not running away from it. I fought a really hard and long battle to reach the point of understanding the uselessness of fighting to even begin with.
Anyway, let’s get down to brass tacks, to the gist and boogie of all things music with Temple Fang, without the egotistic musings from my part and let us focus on the band at play. Well, basically and as simply as I can put it: they went overall Hiroshima in the ecstatic and sonic sense of the word in an absurd chill, cool and unforced way. Not playing to blow you away with a vulgarity or arrogance of how skilled they are in their craftsmanship. No, their brand of music radiates strongly that bullshit does not fly, but that true power essentially lies in the fact that shit will fly if you have the balls to let it go.
I don’t know if it’s true, or not, but I kind of find recognition in the fact that the two shows these guys played this edition of Roadburn were utter enjoyment for all those present. Even more so in the fact that the show on Wednesday in the Green Room, as well as their ‘NMTH presented’ show in the Hall of Fame, were packed to the rafters. These guys are going places, mark my words. And all through the power of music. Nothing more and nothing less…
To close out on another personal note; I always thought I needed a cliché ‘desert experience’ to reach an epiphany of total understanding, but all it took was a visit to Roadburn and do some rituals with a four-piece from Amsterdam.
Namaste, Temple Fang. Namaste.
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