Since Covid, the number of Wave Gotik Treffen editions no longer rhymes with the number of years. Leipzig hosted its 32nd WGT at the beginning of June, and its share of extravagance is considered, five days a year, as normality. Leipzig is the 8th largest city in Germany and has no shortage of events planned throughout the year. Yet, everyone knows the WGT here. Locals have been witnessing in the last 35 years all ranges of steampunks, cyberpunks, victorians, fetishists, lolitas, deathrockers, romantics, and other gothic subgenres, of all ages. There is nobobody anymore to feel offended, mock, or scrutinize. At most, they politely ask for a photo. Most of the time, festival-goers are simply ignored, integrated into the local fauna. No matter in which part of the city you live in, on Pentecost weekend you'll always find a goth buying toilet paper at the next convenience store.
The WGT has become a tradition for the Lipsians (note that if you haven't learnt anything during this report, you can at least boast about knowing the Leipzig demonym tomorrow at the office). The festival has its own sign on the highway 2. It also has its own tram line, line 31 or schwarze Linie (guess the translation), which connects many of the festival venues. Any festival-goer with a wristband can travel throughout Leipzig for free on buses and trams, access many film screenings, guided tours of museums, cemeteries and crematoriums, attend the masses and events planned for Pentecost, wander through the many exhibitions scattered around the city, go to the theater or the opera, see a ballet or a symphony. This year, for example, it was possible to see Albert Lortzing's opera Ondine.
As for concerts, few styles escape the lineup: EBM, deathrock, post-punk, synthpop, neofolk, gothic rock, darkwave, post-metal, neo-classical, industrial, and all the combinations you can make by mixing them all up. This edition featured 199 artists. It's impossible not to find the right fit. But it's also impossible to see everything. That's the usual WGT's headache: making compromises, and making them at the last minute, since the running order is generally never revealed more than a week prior to the festival. And of course, everyone suffers from the same curse every year: the three bands you absolutely didn't want to miss do play on the same day, at the same time, at three ends of the city. A real quartering. And this overlap is often strategic. The venues provided can rarely contain more than 500 people. Yet the Wave Gotik Treffen attracts more than 20,000 festivalgoers from all over the world. If all the headliners played one after the other, the venues would be flooded by too many people, most of them not being able to enter the locations. The goal is therefore to spread the audience out by making them make choices that ease people flow in certain venues. But the gamble doesn't always succeed, far from it: this year again, from the early hours of the afternoon, most concerts had an Einlassstop, or a temporary closure of the entrance. Counter in hand, the security people count the number of people arriving and leaving. If the venue reaches the maximum number of visitors that it is safe to let in, no one is allowed in anymore, until new people leave the venue. Little by little, the audience is allowed to reach the Holy Grail, but sometimes too late to see the desired band. Wearing a wristband is therefore not always enough at WGT to attend concerts: you also have to get up early and accept missing out on a lot of things. To secure your spot for the headliner at a small venue, it is recommended to arrive as soon as the venue opens and attend all the previous concerts. It's a tedious process.
Finally, for night owls, the WGT also offers a wide range of afterparties. Almost all venues host DJ sets during and after the concerts, and a fetish party is also organized every evening at the Kätzclub.
Speaking of parties, before the afters, there are the befores. No festival is complete without a pre-party to get you into the swing of things. Here again, you get an abundance of choices. The Moritzbastei venue has a karaoke night every year, hosted by Daniel Myer, who invites singers from the scene to sing along non goth classics. The Felsenkeller is traditionally dedicated to EBM, with concerts by Nordarr, Buzz Kull, Absolute Body Control, among others. Eleven bands perform, enough to consider this warm-up a full festival day. It's also the only day where you can see so many bands on stage without having to travel. So that's the option we chose. But let's be honest: we didn't see many concerts on that evening. We mainly took advantage of this one night off to do what all festival-goers usually do... relax! What else were you thinking?
Cryo
We left the pre-party on the beats of EBM, and so we start our Friday. We head to the north of Leipzig, at the Stadtbad (depending on the building's use, it can be translated to "public swimming pool" or the "public bath house"). In this case, it's a former municipal swimming pool converted into a concert hall... but reversible. The pool is covered with metal panels, which always gives me goosebumps. It's impossible not to think that hundreds of people are trampling over a gaping hole. But let's put our impulse phobias aside to focus on the day's lineup. We came to see the Swedish duo Cryo, and we're not the only ones. First day of the festival, early hours, and it's already the first Einlassstop.
The band hasn't performed for over two years, so it was eagerly awaited from the audience. Cryo's tortured set plunges us directly into the festival atmosphere. Martin and his 2 meter height bewitches the front rows, while Torny lets his rage out during the entire set. To the left, to the right, standing up, kneeling, lying down, on vocals, percussion, synthesizer, he embodies all four Beatles. The room is packed, the festival has barely begun, and the atmosphere is so sweaty that we already feel the need to change clothes. The rest of the day at the Stadtbad is dedicated to aggrotech. But we have other plans.
Mars
The Volkspalast is a two-room hall. The great hall, under a dome, takes the form of an amphitheater, while the Kantine looks more like a giant cellar where the wine is stored before being tasted in the corridors with baroque windows.
So let's go to the wine cellar to applaud Mars. The German duo always remains very discreet, seeking neither the spotlight nor false praise. And there is absolutely no glimpse of light in this dark representation of what Mars calls apocalyptic folk. An intimate universe, a touch of shamanism, martial percussion, and a guitar as support. A clever mix between King Dude and Current 93, much appreciated by the audience immersed in deep meditation. It is beyond understanding that this band doesn't get more success. We highly recommend it.
Death in Rome
On the other side of the door, behind the red curtain of the Kuppelhalle, Death In Rome is gearing up. Their last performance at the WGT ten years ago took place in the Kantine. Since then, the band has endlessly grown with success with their now considered classic covers like Careless Whisper and Barbie Girl. The Kuppelhalle quickly fills up, and some fans take Death In Rome seriously. As the venue opens, the biggest fans rush directly to the first row. Many spectators attend the concert with a wry smile, others dance with triviality, and others take the repertoire very seriously. The "literal team" closes their eyes, chants the lyrics, and moves like at a Patrick Bruel concert. Death In Rome values its anonymity and always plays in the dark, but the duo has recruited a keyboardist and adds some fun theatrics to the set. And actually, what if this was all really serious? We also find ourselves wiggling to folk adaptations of the lightest pop songs on the international scene. The public particularly embraced Lana del Rey's cleverly orchestrated Summertime Sadness. The image of shaved-headed forty year old men in paramilitary uniforms humming No Limits with their eyes closed will remain carved in our memory forever.
Corlyx
Fourth band and third venue for us on the first day. Going to Moritzbastei, right in the city center, to this small, crowded venue where not more than 400 tightly packed people fit, no, it wasn't reasonable. But could we miss Corlyx? No way! The band enjoys its very first WGT, and this... with a full house. A new Einlassstop keeps the curious onlookers from catching a glimpse, down the stairs, deep in this cave, of the extravagant trio spreading glitter to the festival.
We know that Corlyx's strong point is the stageplay. Everything is DIY, the outfit, the microphone stand, the hairstyle... but those eccentricities are not here to compensate a poor performance. If the mates of Death in Rome sang beautifully out of tone from time to time an hour before, Caitlin Stokes' vocal cords are made of steel. We're here to have fun, of course, but the set is also perfectly mastered, so that Caitlin feels relaxed enough to be talkative between songs, with her vocoder distorted voice. The band didn't expect such a warm welcome, and celebrates with emotion this special moment with the audience. Moritzbastei is far too small, no matter the band that performs there, but it gives a feeling of harmony that is very rarely to be found in a concert hall. And Corlyx knew how to use this characteristic remarkably well. The audience left a little disappointed without their encore, but the WGT is also a bit like a factory: you have to make quick stage changes to avoid successive delays. And to be honest, if we had been able to survive the heat and the lack of oxygen, and if we hadn't been so scared of missing the beginning of the last concert we wanted to attend, we would have stayed for Aux Animaux' set.
Kite
But it's already getting late, we "forgot" to eat today, and we have to get back in the car, parked far away, to finally get to the Agra, the WGT's main venue, located on the outskirts of Leipzig. We're planning 45 minutes for the whole, and we don't want to miss Kite. The band has become one of the biggest Swedish electronic music act. For over 15 years, they've been acclaimed by their native audience, performing on the biggest stages, and is constantly gaining popularity. In the last ten years, Nicklas and Christian have conquered the German audience, who initially gave them a small space, and are offering them tonight the headline slot at the Agra. Yes, we know: the Agra is nothing more than a big hangar, a big can deprived of charm, with questionable acoustics. The whole doesn't fit with the atmosphere Kite tries to create. And let's remember the band used to play only a few years ago in way smaller venues in Germany, not filling them at all, so that we were first sceptic about the success of this show. But then Kite's magic happened. And it's a new Einlassstop in front of the Agra, which can acommodate 5,000 to 10,000 people.
At midnight sharp, the two mates make their entrance to spine-tingling cheers. While Kite previously brought 3 or 4 synths with them, their set has since been multiplied, but their original way of presenting themselves, not facing the public and being surrounded by their keyboards, sometimes playing several at the same time, remains the same. The Swedes don't address the audience, letting the sound and light show do the talking. Dare we say that we see a Jean-Michel Jarre inspiration? In any case, it's a clever way to occupy space, being only two on this wide stage, and having to stay close to all their instruments, and an ingenious way optimize the Agra's poor setting. As we wander among the audience during the concert, it's the same ardor everywhere. Kite has produced so many hits that the setlist feels like a powerful ad natural sequence. And the new songs are a delight. Despite the absence of Nina Persson, Heartless Places is a true joy. The audience vibrates in unison, no time to catch their breath, a real firework display, that finishes in a blaze of glory with Panic Music… At 1 o'clock sharp. The musicians take a bow and leave the stage. People clap, ask for an encore. The Agra's pale neon lights get swtched on without a warning, letting the audience contemplate the true ugliness of the place at daylight, and a spontaneous boo that we would rather hear durin a soccer play coldly pours down on the WGT. Have the Germans finally found a nation less fun than they are (your complaints should be addressed to the author of this joke, Pierre Sopor)? We've already told you about it, but the Swedes don't know about encores. Concerts rarely last longer than 50 minutes, and encores are not part of their culture. Some bands still play the game internationally. Especially when you're a headliner. Especially when you play the festival's biggest venue. But not Kite. Not tonight. An hour set is an hour set, ma'am.
