Amphi Festival 2026, Day 2, 10.30 am: there aren’t many people here yet, but we’re already bombarded with questions. Will we finally manage to have a conversation in German without being immediately answered in French? Will we manage to get into the Theater Stage to see Empathy Test, when the whole world seems to be heading there, whilst still seeing enough out of Diary of Dreams, who are playing at almost the same time? Will we win the industrial dance contest? What shall we choose tonight between Eisbrecher and Rotersand? But above all, will we get the rain promised by the weather forecast – the rain we’ve been dreaming of after what feels like centuries of sweltering heat? Amphi's tradition demands that we catch a cold AND sunburn, that we already caught the day before, so we’re keeping our fingers crossed!
On a more serious note, Germany was still reeling from a terrorist attack on the Berlin Pride Parade the day before. None of the bands we saw said a single word about this traumatic event. That general silence was deafening.
MOTEL TRANSYLVANIA
There may not be a huge crowd gathered under the mushroom-shaped parasols on the Main Stage, but you can’t help but notice that quite a few people are waving green and black flags – the colours of Motel Transylvania. The Italian band has pulled out all the stops for their set and invites us to join in their horror circus. Green smoke, green lights, green and black costumes, green and black hearts on social media: we’ve got the colour code!
It took the band about a decade to refine their sound and arrive at their current style: catchy industrial metal with eerie gothic undertones. Just like the night before, the Amphi kicks off with some heavy riffs. When the singer, Toxic Ghoul, asks the crowd to get down on their knees and then jump up when the track restarts, you can tell it’s a bit early for some people’s joints! With high energy, heavy electro-metal beats and punchy choruses, Motel Transylvania wowed the crowd by firing off a string of their hits (Generation Lost, Firmament, In My Mind, Obscene, To Hell). They’ve listened and digested Rammstein, Manson, Rob Zombie, Static-X and the like; their unbridled, fiery rock’n’roll edge and the heaviness of certain passages work a treat. It’s easy to get caught up in the moment – it’s fun, it gets you going, and, thankfully, there’s no unbearable animated film starring Adam Sandler to complain about!
CHROM
Aaaaaah, there we go, finally! After a day spent dodging similar acts, we’re finally treated to our synthpop/EBM act featuring a chap with neat, short hair, who’s prancing about whilst his bandmate stays behind his synth at the back of the stage!
Christian Marquis, with his gentle eyes and slight smile, has been singing about his melancholy for nearly twenty years now. By starting with Memories, a track from 2012, Chrom embraces their nostalgic approach (the tracks from their recent album Peak & Decay will wait until the second half of the set). The rhythms of the more intense Paralysed continue to take their toll on knees already battered by the workout inflicted by Motel Transylvania, but Chrom’s dances are more introspective. At the risk of making a whole bunch of people over fifty in crisp shirts scream, we’re glad we missed Solar Fake and Covenant the day before, so we could appreciate Chrom without already feeling burnt out. An amusing detail: after a concert opening that looked back to the past by literally opening with memories, the duo left us with The Start of Something New, as if, over the course of a set, their gaze had gradually turned towards the future.
You may not yet be familiar with Kllsignl, whose debut EP Wendigo was released recently (review). For our delegation, they were one of the must-see acts at this year’s festival (sadly, catching Kllsignl also means we won’t be winning the industrial dance contest this year)! So it’s time to embark on the odyssey that locals and regulars have been whispering about since the start of the festival: heading aboard the MS RheinMagie, home to the Orbit Stage, the Amphi’s ‘small’ stage.
A short half-hour walk along the Rhine, with a bridge to cross and a view of the imposing Cologne Cathedral – it might even be nice under the clouds. No need to take the shuttle bus! Yes, but that’s without taking into account the life-drawing class with normal people sketching other people in site gear at the exit of the festival – which leads to a minor waste of time – the wind blowing like crazy and turning one of the banks into a post-apocalyptic sandstorm and, above all, above all, aaaah above all, a bloody flea market for annoying Muggles that takes up all the space along the other bank! We’d pictured ourselves walking really fast, efficiently, but we end up trudging through stalls selling all sorts of bits and bobs, surrounded by the smell of breaded fish and behind French tourists (there’s nothing worse when you travel) who stop every two steps to say “oh, but that’s lovely” and take photos of everything with their phones. Argh, just get us out of this hell!
The Orbit Stage is a fair way from the rest of the festival but ultimately offers a sort of ‘counter-festival’, a very pleasant alternative world (and the Amphi is already a very comfortable festival). Simple, healthy food, air conditioning, a terrace with plenty of seating overlooking the concert, a small, decently lit stage… Here, at least at this time of day, you’ll find the best conditions for enjoying a gig. “Hallo, ein Coca bitte – Sorry, what? Oh, you’re French.” Failed, again. It was a simple enough question, but a Coke, here, is called “cola”. Don’t mess about with that.
KLLSIGNL
We definitely didn’t want to miss Kllsignl for a whole host of reasons. First of all, there’s his nightmarish world, full of sleep paralysis and other unsettling monstrosities. Then there’s his blend of dark electro and trap – something modern and unusual for the Amphi, bringing a welcome breath of fresh air and musical diversity. And then there’s the stag’s skull – let’s be honest, shall we? The black Nazgul hoods, too – they’ve got that black metal vibe, which is cool. Heavy, hypnotic basslines, a sinister, macabre atmosphere from start to finish – the gig feels like a ritual in a grubby basement, except we’re on board an elegant boat with air conditioning and tomato-mozzarella wraps.
It brings to mind a mutant baby of Psyclon Nine and Doodseskader that might have devoured Ghostemane and Istasha as it grew up. Alongside the tracks from the EP are previously unreleased pieces with evocative titles: Sleep is the Sister of Death or Dripdripdrip. It’s heavy, twisted and anxiety-inducing. We find ourselves wondering whether we should be looking for a meaning in the order of the tracks, whether they're played with or without the deer mask, as if certain aspects of the ritual were eluding us, but that’s just because we like to ask questions whenever there are animal skulls involved. It was absolutely brilliant – one of our absolute favourites at the festival, offering the satisfaction not only of having seen something fresh and different, but also something truly dark and menacing amidst an edition dominated by acts full of positive vibes.
So we’re faced with a real dilemma: should we carry on enjoying the Orbit Stage and see Emmon, whom we’re really keen to see, or head off straight away to catch The Sweet Kill live, whom we’re also really keen to see? As Emmon is supporting Denuit in France very soon, we head back to brave the hellish flea market (no, French tourists, enough now – that’s not PRETTY, there’s no point taking a photo of it, it’s just an old toy; you’ll find the same ones in every dingy attic in the world… oh, vodka slushies? Hmmm, tempting… but no, no time!).
THE SWEET KILL
During the night between the first and second days, nobody could find the switch to turn on the lights on the Theatre Stage. The Sweet Kill turned up in the dim light and smoke – a perfectly fitting atmosphere. We were expecting yet another post-punk/gothic rock band – not bad, but easily confused with all the others – with people in shirts staring at their feet, that sort of thing. Nonsense!
There’s a tall, shirtless bloke, livid, cutting a striking figure in the smoke, kicking out at thin air and diving in the crowd. Canadian artist Pete Mills goes against the grain of the trendy, cold, synthetic minimalism by fully embracing his dark romanticism, his blend of searing rage and melancholy, his rock’n’roll energy and his raw attitude. There’s a touch of London After Midnight in the melodies, and a hint of Joy Division in that deep voice that echoes through the darkness. The project emerged in the early 2020s and has crossed the Atlantic only a handful of times, but Mills has channelled his experience into The Sweet Kill to present us a work that is intense, beautiful, haunting and powerful. We’re sweating, but we feel great, it's The Sweat Kill!
LEBANON HANOVER
A few lines earlier, we were talking about minimalism and coolness. Given that some mischievous planners had decided to slot Lebanon Hanover onto the Main Stage, exposing the duo to the full glare of the afternoon sun at snack time, we decided to go and cool down after the heat of The Sweet Kill. But watch out – a disaster strikes in Cologne: just as she’s about to take to the stage, whilst presumably finishing a conversation with someone backstage, Larissa Iceglass still has about 20 per cent of a smile on her lips. Her head is bowed, she’s at the back of the stage, we can’t see much of her, but the damage is done: the whole myth crumbles! Fortunately, by the time she reaches the microphone, her pout is nothing but disdain, boredom and nothingness. You don’t go to a Lebanon Hanover gig to see people smiling and looking friendly.
The world’s most jaded duo reel off their sombre ‘hits’, steeped in alienation and abandonment, filled with sepulchral reverb, icy 80s synths (so is that why they used to call it the ‘Cold’ War back then?) and a hypnotic bassline. The vocals of Larissa and William Maybelline take turns, with the latter always proving more expressive than his partner. Ice Cave’s melancholy has the Amphi dancing listlessly, eyes fixed on the floor; we’re too blasé to admit that it’s cool. We’re staring at our feet because we don’t want to be seen, but also because we don’t want to see the others; we don’t want to discover that the people from Lebanon Hanover are actually in colour if we see them in real life and in broad daylight. We’re Totally Tot on the inside; we let ourselves be lulled by the neurasthenic poetry of Kunst, Gallowdance and Alien before finishing with the incantatory Come Kali Come – a hallucinatory moment of mysterious apocalyptic ritual with an almost doom-like heaviness that will linger in the air for a while, whilst Larissa ends the gig lying on the floor, dead on the inside. Not a single track from their latest album, Asylum Lullabies, which was quite different from their previous works? Come on now, Lebanon Hanover surely wouldn’t stoop to such conformist behaviour as showing a bit of pride in their recent work and promoting it! We would have appreciated the variety, though.
ASSEMBLAGE 23
Whilst it was ‘darkness in the sunlight’, this is ‘sunlight in the darkness’. Or nearly. The Theater Stage is packed to the rafters; people are queuing up in the hope of getting in to dance to Assemblage 23. A bald bloke in a shirt, playing melancholic futurepop, yay! Despite VNV Nation’s cancellation the day before, we’ll still get our fill! Enough of the teasing. The gig kicks off with the arrival of Mari Kattman, who’d already been on stage with Solitary Experiments just under an hour earlier. She’s full of energy and her tireless enthusiasm carries the show.
Then Tom Shear turns up, in all simplicity, and kicks off his set just as he does his latest album, Null – with the opening track, Believe. Binary rhythms, melancholic and nostalgic clean vocals, choruses that sweep you away. We know the formula. The audience were on the edge of their seats and let themselves be swept away by the emotions conveyed by the singer’s voice, even on the heavier tracks (Naked, Let the Wind Erase Me). With nearly forty years of bittersweet dances and melancholic futures behind him, Tom Shear is a master of his craft, yet we can’t help but feel, ourselves, as though we’ve also got four decades’ worth of experience in this too – so familiar are the formulas, like a pair of slippers you slip back into after a day of trampling about at a festival. Come to think of it, Tom Shear seems to be wearing the same trainers as Constantin Warter from Calva Y Nada did the day before: do they go shoe-shopping together? Could we have the reference, because two days of pounding the pavement really does start to take its toll!
DIARY OF DREAMS
In front of the Main Stage, after Lebanon Hanover had sent everyone’s EEGs through the floor, the tension began to rise again. Mr Freeze were being handed out, but some people didn’t dare take any for fear of letting go of the barrier and losing their front-row spot for Eisbrecher later on. No ice cream for the ice-breaker fans!
There’s no way we’re missing Diary of Dreams. Much like Das Ich the day before, they’re one of those cult acts close to our hearts – a constant presence at German festivals but who never seem to come to France (despite a Paris gig in 2024, their first in 15 years). Just like Das Ich the night before, Diary of Dreams will in fact be in Paris and Strasbourg next February, with both bands sharing the bill! On the Main Stage, Adrian Hates has plenty of room to run about in all directions, hair blowing in the wind. We’re still just as amused by the paradox between his sunny, warm-hearted demeanour and the depressing heaviness of his music. For a bloke called Hates, he radiates kindness towards his audience and shows great complicity with his musicians!
The darkness of Diary of Dreams defies categorisation: a touch of darkwave, a hint of industrial heaviness, gothic elements and torrents of melancholy. The setlist takes us on a journey through the ages: the highly electronic Kindrom, the anguish of The Secret, the menacing weight of Viva la Bestia, the poignant Ikarus... With Diary of Dreams, it hits the mark every time, thanks to that deep, brooding voice, the contrast between fragile melodies and more biting guitars, that ever-present darkness, that ‘endless night’ which, indeed, we’d never want to see come to an end. The mood finally gets the better of the clouds, which melt away and crumble into sobs. Diary of Dreams, in the rain, sheltered by giant mushrooms, with a Mr Freeze: what could be better?
EMPATHY TEST
Scheduled in a crual time slot alongside Diary of Dreams and Empathy Test, and on the distant Orbit Stage, we’ve had to miss out on Potochkine’s gig. It’s a real heartbreaker, and the only consolation is their gig in Nantes a few weeks ago, which we told you about here. With our thoughts firmly with them, the Verdammnis delegation split into two teams: Team Mr Freeze staying with Diary of Dreams and Team Sweat heading for Empathy Test. The Theatre Stage was packed once again, with a long queue forming at the entrance as people waited in the hope of seeing Isaac Howlett’s band, whose success in Germany is well established. The singer had warned us: his band’s current gigs would be their last until they managed to release new material, as he and his friend Adam Relf hadn’t been able to create anything together since the 2020 album Monsters. Listening to the fans at the festival, many are determined at all costs to attend what is seen as Empathy Test’s farewell – a last chance to lose themselves in this nostalgic synth-pop. What’s more, it’s raining: the atmosphere is perfect.
So now it’s time to take a closer look at the locals’ ways. At the Amphi Festival, every gig is introduced and announced by a few people. To French newcomers who don’t understand much German, they’re “friendly oddballs with a funny look who crack jokes in German”. To the locals, they’re the famous Dr Mark Benecke, a biologist specialising in forensic entomology (he knows a thing or two about bugs on corpses, basically) and the model Celene Nox. Well, guess what: even if we don’t understand much, when those two introduce Empathy Test by saying something like ‘neue material nächste Jahr’, we rub our eyes to hear better, we unblock our ears to see better. Eh? Does that mean what we think it means?
Then Empathy Test begins to play, with Monsters, just as it has for so many years – like a pure morning without the placebo effect and lyrics such as “When all’s been said and done (...) maybe it’s time to go”. It starts as if we were parting ways, and the lyrics could, in fact, take on a double meaning in the context of a final concert. With Empathy Test, every track feels like a heart-wrenching farewell. Except that those mysterious German words still linger in our minds: “neue material, nächste Jahr” – what on earth could this magic phrase possibly mean? Isaac Howlett’s voice is as clear as the melodies conjured up by keyboardist Nadine Green. Alongside the familiar tracks such as Empty Handed, Losing Touch, Demons, Vampire Town and the like, there are two solo tracks by Howlett: Ghosts of the Tsunami and House of Cards – the perfect bittersweet conclusion to this moment, with its ever-elegant and touching nuances.
As always, the obvious pleasure he takes in being on stage – despite a few technical glitches – his humour and his desire to have fun and share the experience serve as a counterbalance to the sadness of the music. And then he blurts out this line: “We’ve never been so close to releasing new material”, confirming what we’d thought we’d understood earlier. Ha! That’s goths for you – when you tell them “our last gigs before we release new material”, they tend to hear only “last gigs” rather than focusing on “new material”! So see you “nächste Jahr”, perhaps?
JOACHIM WITT
The Theater Stage, which has been packed to the rafters ever since Assemblage 23, is now completely stifling. It’s impossible to get in for Clan of Xymox. So, a change of plan: what if we went for another good dose of immersion by doing something typically German… like seeing Joachim Witt on stage! We won’t lie to you: we’re going out of curiosity, but without too many expectations. Over the course of his fifty-year career, Witt has moved from new wave to a sound that’s more rock, heavier, more NDH, more ‘in tune with the times’. Mark Benecke and Celene Nox introduce him; once again, we catch a few words. ‘Eine Dino’. We also learn that the Germans pronounce his name ‘Yo-arim’. We’re expecting something a bit kitsch, a bit corny.
That’s exactly it. But in a cool sort of way. At 77, Yo-arim still seems to be having a right good time. He’s got nothing to prove, anyway. With his look of an occultist librarian, he dashes about the stage whilst his musicians (among them, Die Krupps’ former-former guitarist, Marcel Zürcher) blast out the riffs of Herr der Berge. Everyone knows the lyrics to Goldener Reiter – obviously updated since 1981 – Witt has a field day putting on his little ‘haha-ha, haha-ha’ act during Treibjagd and darkens the mood with Die Flut. For Signale, he invites Alexx Wesselsky from Eisbrecher to join him; this brings to mind the fan who wouldn’t let go of the barrier for fear of losing her spot by accepting a Mr Freeze. With both hands firmly clamped on, she must be having a right good time. Like quite a few people, in fact: no, Joachim Witt isn’t at the cutting edge of the avant-garde; yes, it does smack a bit of that brown-and-beige striped wallpaper from Granny’s house; yes, even his giant portrait behind the drums is a bit over the top – but it was very endearing. Meanwhile, Clan of Xymox’s gig was briefly interrupted and slightly marred by ongoing technical issues. Oh well, no regrets, then.
EISBRECHER
Once again, the Verdammnis team takes stock: right, what shall we do? We won’t hide the fact that, as is often the case, the headliners appealed to us far less than some of the other bands. In an ideal world, we’d have loved to go and see Rotersand, but setting off for the Orbit at this time of day means running the risk of coming up against a massive queue and having to end our festival on the banks of the Rhine, in the middle of that bloody flea market that reeks of fish and chips, like a foretaste of purgatory.
Right, well, while we’re at it, we might as well go all out with a grand finale and catch Eisbrecher, who’ll be closing this anniversary edition on the Main Stage. We’re familiar with Eisbrecher; we’re lucky enough to see them often in France. In fact, rather ironically, it’s better to see them in France to get the most out of Wesselsky’s show, as he delivers his commentary in perfect French. Here too, he’s as cheerful, talkative and friendly as ever, but it’s inevitably a bit less surprising!
That doesn’t stop us from getting into the swing of things with a succession of heavy, relentless, triumphant, simple and irresistible tracks – the sort that only Eisbrecher know how to deliver. The recent album Kaltfront takes centre stage; everything is wunderbar right from the start, then we flex our muscles and pull sour faces as we belt out Himmel, Arsch und Zwirn as if we didn’t know what that means and hadn’t just spent the weekend saying “bitte” (for french people, it can be a lot); bums wiggle in military outfits during Was ist Hier Los?, and Verrückt never goes out of fashion. During This is Deutsch, we take stock: seeing Mono Inc and Joachim Witt – this is Deutsch. Clapping your hands 187 times with smiling goths to synthpop / futurepop bands – this is Deutsch. Watching fifty-somethings dressed as soldiers strutting around to hard-hitting electro-metal mixes with their macho themes full of big ships, big tanks, big machines and crude jokes – this is Deutsch!
We wanted a fireworks display to round things off, and that’s exactly what we got. Eisbrecher invited Sotiria on stage for Die Hoffnung Stirbt Zuletzt; Yo-arim, still full of wit, returned to the stage for Zeitgeist – the primal satisfaction of which was sheer bliss – and Frank Herzig from Schattenmann appeared for Auf die Zunge, whilst Wesselsky, always entertaining his audience, expressed his envy of his hair. The singer heads down into the crowd to have his bum whipped by his fans… and by the singer from Heldmaschine. To round off this Amphi gig, Eisbrecher plays their cover of Falco’s Out of the Dark with Sotiria, Yo-arim and Herzig returning, then everyone throws teddy bears into the crowd, as usual, and that’s it. A grand finale to mark the occasion – a birthday’s meant to be celebrated with friends!
There you have it. The Amphi Festival has held its twentieth edition. Will the next twenty years see the festival diversify a little further by bringing in new acts (and more women)? It’ll have to, or accessories like Heldmaschine’s Segway and Das Ich’s wheeled synthesisers will have to be replaced by walking frames. This year’s festival did, however, offer us glimpses of the future: Kllsignl will be on the line-up for the next Out of Line Weekender, Potochkine is starting to make themselves at home here, Empathy Test might actually have a future after all, and next year’s Call the Ship to Port night is already sold out, with Ductape on the bill (and Solar Fake, of course)... All these names, and so many others, are ones to watch: by the time the Amphi turns forty, we’ll be calling them the ‘Dinos’ in turn!
In short, it was great fun. The criticism that the line-up lacks a bit of risk-taking is, ultimately, the same as for most festivals, and this situation is also in line with what the audience wants... If you want to see some new faces, give some new music a listen! Let’s look ahead to the 2027 edition: sure, there’ll be Deine Lakaien, VNV Nation, BlutEngel and Die Krupps – the regulars who bring the crowds together… but also Horskh, Aux Animaux, Sierra Veins and Night in Athens!
Top 3 Pierre : Kllsignl, The Sweet Kill, Empathy Test
Top 3 Maxine : Diary of Dreams, Kllsignl, Lebanon Hanover
