There was no farewell speech. No message from the organizers. Just fireworks—and with them, “See You on the Other Side”. One more goodbye to Ozzy. An official farewell to Râșnov.
“But I know I’ll see you once more,
When I see you, I’ll see you on the other side”.
Not just one more time.
– Thank you, Râșnov. We grew together, guarded by your fortress, shaded by your forests. Our secret spot in the heart of Transylvania. We’ll miss you, forever – the screen message said it all. Let the secret place become secret again. A festival like Rockstadt is not easily forgotten. At the end of the fireworks, there was a spontaneous toast – to the new location.
It’s been said more than once that Rockstadt, true to its name, is extreme in every way. But it’s not just extreme. In many aspects, it’s truly one of a kind, even without the ambient factor.
Probably (though no thorough research has been done) the only festival where you can order sarmale. Or varză călită. Possibly even pasta, served on a real plate. If not the only one, then surely one of the rare few.
One of the rare festivals where you can bring your kids without worry. The only downside is they might come home with an unnecessary toy (gifted by, say, a skeleton, a Viking, or just a regular biker). Let the child learn to growl before they even speak. If they happen to wander near a mosh pit while still in diapers, nothing will stop them after that. Plus, they’ll develop solid musical taste. And most importantly, they’ll never judge people by their appearance.
Alestorm brought beach gear. But their props were barely noticeable compared to what Party Cannon did. In essence, they stayed true to their name. Swim rings, inflatable boats, rubber duckies, beach balls, water guns and then, all of that inside a circle pit. After that, push-ups instead of moshing. In the scorching sun, at 5 PM. Perfectly normal.
Metal Echoes in Dracula’s Courtyard, Guided by Rain Spirits… Headliner on the First Day of Rockstadt Extreme Festival
Dirty Shirt is one of the most original and successful rock bands in Eastern Europe. Even more fittingly, they’re homegrown, they come from Transylvania. The crowd loves them, and there’s a lot of them on stage (naturally, with all those traditional acoustic instruments mixed with a standard metal setup). And what that sounds like—you can only fully experience live.
While the main stages were hosting full-blown party sets, the smaller stage featured Dying Fetus. Sounds brutal? It was. For those not into colorful “floaties” and cultural fusions, there was always a place to be.
Static X and Dope are on a joint tour. This time, a little split by schedule, but both present. Evenly balanced, one before dark, the other after. Makes sense, Wayne’s mask doesn’t glow in daylight.
The People of Rockstadt – metalheads and teddy bears
“Draconian” is an adjective meaning “excessively harsh” or “severely strict,” derived from Draco, the Athenian lawmaker under whom even the smallest offenses were met with extreme punishment. But Draconian is also a gothic metal band from Sweden. Angelic vocals paired with growls.
The smaller stage has its perks, the chance to meet the band. A “secret” gap in the fence leads to the backstage area, all it takes is a little patience and a friendly security guard. And there it is – a signature, a photo, a chat. Sometimes fans show up more elaborately dressed than the performers themselves, and it’s not immediately clear who’s meeting whom. Either way, the band is always up for a talk. Metalheads are polite—we’ve already established that.
And Draconian, for example, are not harsh at all.
One more “last time” happened at this year’s festival: the final Sepultura show in Romania, ever. Their farewell tour, which also marks their 40th anniversary, brought them to Rockstadt for one last encounter with the Romanian crowd. For the final time, “Refuse/Resist” echoed from the stage. Symbolically, they ended with “Roots, Bloody Roots.” A fitting farewell to both Sepultura and Râșnov.
Beyond the photos, Rockstadt offers another rare catch: soundchecks. So, during the mic test for Terrorizer, the frontman literally screamed:
– Romania, I love you!
That scream wasn’t even half of what came later. But hey, the sound guy somehow made it.
When scepters started gathering in front of the main stage (special shoutout to those who proudly carried them all day), it was clear that Wardruna was next.
Corpse paint signals the genre. Chains too. The costumes speak of creativity, but they don’t give away the band immediately. Wardruna draws a different kind of crowd. It’s obvious who’s here just for them.
There’s no pushing here. No mosh pits. Wardruna is a whole different concept. Peaceful, yet intense. At moments hypnotic.
It was emotional. Togetherness was celebrated, as it should be during a grand finale.
And finally, at 2 AM, it was Monday already. Is there a better way to start the week than with some Swedish black metal? Probably not. Though explaining it at work might be tricky.
Slowly, perhaps slower than ever before, people walked down the forest path to Râșnov. That well-known route was walked for the last time. Just one more glance over the shoulder, towards a new beginning.
J. Ilić for HL
