This year, the Amphi Festival celebrated its twentieth edition since 2005. Over the past twenty years, the festival has undergone several changes, most notably the closure of the Staatenhaus as the third stage and the arrival of the RheinMagie on the banks of the Rhine, where the Orbit Stage is located. With its laid-back vibe, the festival has established a confident and comfortable routine: regulars head to the Amphi to find a familiar, pleasant venue where providing the best possible experience for the audience seems to take precedence over growth at any cost—but also to see familiar faces, whether in the audience… or on stage!
Like a lot of big festivals in the “dark” scenes (though it's the same with metal festivals), you get this strange feeling that you’re always seeing pretty much the same bands. This feeling was all the stronger because, in keeping with the anniversary edition, the festival decided to reunite “old friends” and bring in bands for whom Cologne’s Tanzbrunnen has become a second home over the years: Eisbrecher, Diary of Dreams, Das Ich, Welle:Erdball, Mono Inc, Solar Fake, and Covenant are there almost every other time! However, many of these artists are still very rarely seen in France and outside of Germany in general… That said, just like at metal festivals, it’s obviously earlier in the day and among the small names on the poster that you make discoveries—that’s where new projects leave a lasting impression before becoming the “dinosaurs” of tomorrow.
There will always be people for whom this will be their first Amphi (and their last, too!): While our site has covered these festivities in the past, Verdammnis Incorporated has decided to send a brand-new delegation—one that’s not bilingual at all—to experience it for themselves this time! A beach full of goths, a stellar lineup, a festival that’s packed but still manageable, with all stages sheltered from the sun, plenty of places to seat, fun merch booths, and restrooms that are generally clean… when it comes to comfort, the audience is pampered. Foreigners also find themselves with a ready-made topic of conversation: “Oh, you too—was it hell getting here with all the canceled and rescheduled Eurostar trains?” We then look back on those moments of naivety with fondness: we were still only talking about the trip to get there, without suspecting that the return trip would be just as grueling!
While the line to buy this year’s official T-shirt stretches all the way to the horizon, the early birds are making their way toward the Main Stage for a festival kickoff with a heavy focus on rock and metal. Upon arrival, our team of super-professionals wonders whether to enter the photo pit from the right or the left. We run into a fellow French photographer who’s hanging out on the right. Perfect—that’s the info we needed! We chat and agree that it feels a bit weird to be in Germany and only have two photographers… and both from France, no less! Then the concert starts and loooads of photographers pour in from the other side: we really should have guessed that if there are only French people somewhere, it means we’re in the wrong place!
Florian Grey kicks off the festival and performs there for the first time in the project’s more than ten-year history. The catchy, melancholic rock of this project—which began as a solo endeavor—might seem a tad too tame on record, but here on stage, the tombstones of Vincent Price and Edgar Allan Poe take center stage. Immediately, the Hamburgers’ popularity skyrockets.
On stage, the visual world alone accounts for a good chunk of the show. With their glam ghoul look, Florian Grey and his bandmates plunge us into a gothic B-movie aesthetic filtered through ’80s glitter rock—a bit like a cross between Wednesday 13 and Lord of the Lost. They strut their stuff just enough to make it fun, and you quickly realize that the makeup is more here to met our hearts than to actually scare us. It’s endearing and almost cute, much like the music, whose melodic pop hooks gain depth on stage thanks to a few edgier riffs.
A polished look and a mix of heavy, pounding riffs and melodic choruses, with just the right touch to get the crowd clapping along: that’s the recipe for a great start to the day. Whether it’s Harpyie’s folk-metal with metalcore and NDH influences, which breathes new life into mythology and role-playing in a tavern full of burly, mustachioed men, or Soulbound’s blend of electro, metalcore, and industrial, the opening acts go for a hard-hitting, in-your-face approach. There’s one sure sign of a goth festival: there are only two security guards per stage! So don’t expect any stage-divers, circle pits, or walls of death—we behave ourselves here; there aren’t any drunk jerks dressed up as penises. No, here we’re polite; here we clap when the band asks us to, we wave our arms in the air during the choruses full of FEELINGS, and the only aggression is passive—when we judge (or even condemn) other people’s T-shirts while trying not to come across as too arrogant French people.
We note the professionalism of these first three bands and their flair for putting on a show—it’s tight, and they really know how to entertain. We tip our hats to the stoic Harpiye, despite the technical issues that dampen the start of their set a bit; we also admire how all the musicians have such stylish and mysterious names: there’s the singer Aello die Windböe (“the gust of wind”), who bursts onto the stage wearing a harpy mask; there’s the guitarist Podargo der Schnellfliegende (“the fast flyer”); the drummer Kayran... and then there’s Brian. Brian is the guy who plays the hurdy-gurdy with a smile bigger than the stage and an acrobatic mustache. Brian is the charismatic asset that makes it so Harpyie can play us any NDH/modern metalcore crossover to accompany a game of Gwent, and we won’t hold it against them too much. We appreciate the energy of Soulbound, probably the band with the most aggressive sound this year, which skillfully handles this blend of metal and electronic music just the way we like it across the Rhine: more danceable than just noisy or overly oppressive. It’s super professional, polished, and shows a commitment to a job well done. Just like the organizers and the crowd: here, people don’t come to wallow in the mud. We behave ourselves; we’re well-mannered.
The venue is well laid out. Once you move away from the clever mushroom-shaped giant umbrellas which cast their shadow on the Main Stage, you can quickly reach any point. Whether at the merch booths or the food trucks, it’s a chance to show off our best German—the kind we learned in middle school, though it’s gotten pretty rusty. And, whether at the merch booths or the food trucks, we run into people who immediately respond to us in very proper French. They’re so polite! It's humiliating!
Still, we’d been told that at the Amphi, we’d only see middle-aged guys in shirts and with bald heads, playing synthpop or acting like soldiers by wiggling their butts—and bands we’ve seen a thousand times before. That was all a lie—at least for now! With the opening of the Theater Stage, we can shut ourselves away, enjoy the air conditioning—which is still working at that time—and see Echoberyl, the first French act to play at the Amphi this year (there will be three in total—a respectable number!). Singer Cecilia is also the first woman to take the stage at this year’s festival: while efforts are being made, the Amphi—like all other festivals—remains, unfortunately, far from achieving gender parity.
Lighting reduced to the bare minimum, smoke, cold synths played by Adriano at the back of the stage, modern darkwave: that’s it—no more metal! We’ll admit we had a moment of concern because the stage seems huge for an artist performing (almost) alone, but Cecilia takes it on and moves across it with energy. She knows how to command the space but also how to capture the audience’s attention with her mystical dances. Whether atmospheric or intense, the music makes an impact, and the crowd gets moving to the tracks with their more powerful EBM roots. The performance is melancholic, poetic, mysterious, captivating, and unique. Echoberyl is our first big favorite of the day—an act with soul and a strong personality—and we hope that their appearance at the Amphi will open the doors to other stages for them!
Due to the low water level of the Rhine, the Orbit Stage is located this year a half-hour walk from the rest of the festival. That’s too far for a quick round trip, given the risk of running into a packed boat… so we’ll have to make some sacrifices: we won’t see Whispers in the Shadow, Twin Noir, or Pink Turns Blue, as this third stage is practically becoming a festival in its own right. Let’s go back to when we were talking about men in shirts playing at being soldiers with synths that make you want to wiggle your butt…
Martial rhythms looped endlessly, menacing “rrr” rolls, a deep, gravelly voice, melodic soaring during the choruses, a tough and icy appearance despite a clean, polished sound… Heldmaschine is an archetype, a descendant of Rammstein that fully embraces its heritage. Seeing these guys arrive all together on a sort of giant Segway that spews tons of smoke as they strike a pose with their guitars is already an fun sight, but on top of that, they’re wearing sort of light-up helmets. They look like robotic-military-cosmonauts-from-a futuristic-outer-space. With their helmets on, it’s a little hard to tell bassist Marco Schulte and guitarist Tobias Kaiser apart—they look like cyber-Chip and Dale who’ve escaped from Starship Troopers.
The helmets come off as early as the second song. Singer René Anlauff keeps rolling his rrr’s while spreading his arms wide to look more imposing… all while spinning around on his Segway, which is spewing smoke everywhere. Eiszeit, Webterrorist, Meine Welt: they string together their hits, toss banknotes stamped with their logo into the crowd, and cover the Pixies’ Where Is My Mind. We didn’t really understand what just happened, but we had a fun time. Once again, there’s a kind of endearing modesty in this simple ambition to entertain—to do what they love while bringing joy to others, all with a huge smile. This saves Heldmaschine from falling into utter kitsch. FINALLY, that’s it—for us tourists, the immersion was total!
Next comes a very special experience. For Germans, seeing Das Ich is a bit like visiting family: you do it once a year; some people pretend to get tired of it, but deep down it’s always a pleasure. For the French, seeing Das Ich is often either a very distant memory, a dream, or synonymous with a trip to Germany. Since the release of Cabaret in 2006, they’ve racked up a string of cancellations, appearing in our country only on rare occasions. Yet they’ve just announced two dates for 2027—one in Paris and one in Strasbourg... but there’s no way we’re going to miss them. Because even for die-hard German fans, this Das Ich concert was special: they’ve just released Fanal (review), their first album in nearly twenty years. So we’ll get to hear new songs for the first time since the 2008 single Kannibale!
Das Ich is one of a kind, whether in the studio or on stage. No other band blends this sinister, macabre theatrical poetry with a party vibe quite like they do. Humor, menace, melancholy... Bruno Kramm and Sven Hegewald roam the stage with their wheeled synthesizers. We shift from Kramm’s grimaces to those of Stefan Ackermann, an ultra-expressive little devil whose dances are both grotesque and graceful—a terrifying yet touching demonic clown. Lazarus, Brutus, and Was bin Ich?, the new tracks, resonate with power. The verses recited hypnotically during Kannibale and Reanimat, the anthems Schwarzer Stern, Kain und Abel, and Destillat, the possessed incantations of Gottes Tod, but also the more emotional intensity of Uterus: we go through every emotion, and every moment is amazing. Funny, terrifying, sad, and mysterious, Das Ich is a dark treasure frozen in time.
Meanwhile, the Theater Stage is buzzing. Is it because the air conditioning has died or because of Andy Julia’s hip-shaking moves? Who knows. Everyone’s sweating buckets when, in the bluish twilight, the trio Soror Dolorosa takes the stage, already striking killer poses even though it’s just the intro. By the second song, Tear It Up, the singer steps down from the stage to get closer to the audience.
Soror Dolorosa brings that little touch of madness that was missing from the bands we saw earlier in the day: this is real rock ’n’ roll. We’re sweating. Clothes are flying off. We’re rolling around on the floor. The mic stand’s flying all over the place from start to finish. Their cold wave is scorching, romantic, intense, and couldn’t care less about convention. Soror Dolorosa owns it all to the hilt—right down to the tips of their dark glasses, even when you already can’t see a thing—with a sincere generosity that stand out after so many bands that come across as professional entertainers. Torment, madness, a jubilant, over-the-top attitude, a tortured voice that resonates powerfully in the shadows. At the end of the concert, Andy Julia starts to introduce “one last song,” but someone from the staff comes over to remind him that, hey buddy, in Germany, time is time, so now they’ve got to get out of here because they’ve already gone over the scheduled time by at least 42 seconds. A quick apology, and it’s time to say goodbye. After the cut-short encore in Paris a few weeks ago, we’re starting to think it’s a Soror gimmick to tease us with a finale that never comes… but why would we want it to end, after all?
In the shadow of the Theater Stage, we’re starting to figure something out: concerts kick off in the dark, with deep blue lighting and smoke. You can’t see much of anything. As if to put our theory to the test, we wait there steadfastly for Selofan (as if we needed an excuse to see Selofan). Guess what? When the Greek duo takes the stage, you can’t see much of anything! Joanna Pavlidou’s silhouette stands out against the darkness, and her characteristic austere and absurd robotic dances sweep us off our feet immediately. The screen behind helps immerse us in Selofan’s offbeat universe, where fantasy and rigor coexist—a bit like a free-jazz enthusiast suddenly becoming fascinated by geometry. The world is expressionistic, off-kilter, dark, and unique. Dimitris Pavlidis steps into the spotlight and pulls out his saxophone. As usual, he’s wearing a shirt that looks like it was stolen from an ’80s TV movie. We love them.
There’s a heavy sense of menace, a chilling despair, a rain-soaked minimalism… but also that touch of madness, that surreal strangeness that gives Selofan its very distinctive flavor—that play with reality, which is twisted as if to express, with greater precision and fidelity, a whole host of inner shadows. It’s unique. Our French photographer colleague, whom we ran into that morning and who admitted she was only familiar with Eisbrecher on the lineup, then asks us, “Am I dreaming, or is she singing off-key?”. How to tell it's your first time without telling it's your first time! On the contrary, her voice is expressive, raw, and powerful. Joanna leaves the stage, throwing flowers at us. She smiles warmly at the audience, but we suspect the flowers to be intended for our graves!
Since it’s clear that the Orbit Stage is too far away to venture out to on this first day and the Theater Stage is packed, drawing a massive crowd that has come to see Rue Oberkampf, we might as well go all in and try to blend in with the crowd. Second attempt at the food truck—hot dog on the menu—and the second “Oh, you’re French? I can tell!” Oh well, then. To feel like real Germans, we have to go see Mono Inc. That’s just how it is. It’s written in their DNA, in the stars, in their destiny: it's impossible to resist, there's nothing we can do about it. Especially since we certainly won’t be seeing them in France—at least not anytime soon...
There’s a big crowd, lots of the band’s T-shirts. Mono Inc is one of those acts that’s hugely popular on this side of the Rhine but flies completely under the radar in France—as, sadly, does much German music of all genres. It’s more of an experience than just music: what Mono Inc delivers on stage is almost like a communal rallying cry, with a succession of anthems about darkness. They kick things off with In My Darkness, the catchy title track from their latest album, and wrap up with the unmissable Children of the Dark. Darkness, everywhere!
Heavy riffs—but not too heavy—more lyrical passages, a sense of melancholy and nostalgia that—once again—have the crowd clapping along as a few fireballs shoot up for that “wow” effect: the ingredients are simple but masterfully executed. Drummer Katha Mia commands the stage from her perch with her infectious enthusiasm. She eventually tosses aside her crown, while singer Martin Engler sheds his thick coat to proudly display a Mono Inc T-shirt before heading out to shake hands with his captivated audience. More than the music itself, what sticks with us is the connection between the band and its fans—that moment of shared experience, as if the musicians themselves were stepping back from their creation to enjoy it and become part of it, that desire to envelop the whole crowd in a welcoming, unifying bubble of darkness. Wow, goths in Germany are all about good vibes!
Located in the city, the Amphi wraps up early. The last concert starts before 9 p.m. It’s time to choose: Covenant, announced a few days ago as a replacement for VNV Nation, or Calva Y Nada? Given how rarely Calva Y Nada performs and the huge crowd gathering to see Covenant, off we go to the Theater Stage!
Calva Y Nada has limited itself to the occasional festival appearance since its return in 2023. The latest album from Constantin Warter’s project—aka Breñal—dates back to 1998… and yet, much like Das Ich earlier today, tonight’s set includes new material we’d given up hope of hearing! As is customary on the Theater Stage, the ritual begins in the bluish twilight. Warter storms onto the stage. He couldn’t care less about his outfit: jeans, sneakers, a Bart Simpson T-shirt, and small glasses. He looks like a history and geography teacher. He’s accompanied by Alba on synths. Just the bare minimum. At first glance, it doesn’t look like much—the stage is huge, and next to Covenant’s light show on the Main Stage, it feels a bit empty.
But we don't care—that’s not how Calva Y Nada takes the stage. The music begins—a mix of EBM, electro-industrial, and darkwave, a sort of mutant hybrid between Skinny Puppy and Das Ich, something that’s at once trippy, baroque, and nightmarish. Breñal contorts his body, his eyes bulging. He chants and spits out his lyrics in German and Spanish. They kick off with Huele a Muerte, a previously unreleased track (there will be two others, including the recent single La Pura Mierda). We shift from a gothic and baroque atmosphere—the samples from the gloomy and heavy Habemus Papam—to the intensity of Rascheln or Paradies. Calva Y Nada is both visceral and strangely funny, as if the singer were aware of the absurdity of his hypnotic performance. This radical, sticky, and insane sound felt incredibly good at the end of the day: at some point, it’s fine to dance and clap your hands in nice and clean shirts, but for us, after 8 p.m., all we ask for is some weirdos growling in the dark.
Top 3 Pierre : Das Ich, Calva Y Nada, Soror Dolorosa
Top 3 Maxine : Das Ich, Selofan, Echoberyl
