LIVE REPORT: Roadburn 2026 @ Tilburg (15-18/04/2026)

If you’ll just allow me, José, your usual host, a little word before we get properly into it - and it’s about time, right? Hey, Roadburn takes time to digest, what can I tell you other than the delay is entirely of my own doing -, I’d just like to extend a very warm welcome to our new collaborator Jamie Ludwig, a brilliantly talented writer and journalist from Chicago who will henceforth report regularly back from a few shows and events The Devil’s Mouth tentacles weren’t able to reach before. It’s a partnership long in the making, plotted through random meetings on hotel lobbies and initially based on a shared love for Roadburn and all that it means to each of us. Jamie joins the former TDM writing sausage party of myself, Andy Cairns and Kjetil Nernes, adding a much needed extra female touch to this stinky joint (to the great relief of our photographer Estefânia Silva). Because Roadburn is a vast universe where no one is ever able to see everything that’s going on, and also because I can’t seem to shut up about it, I’ve added a few of my own (clearly labelled) blurbs of shows that Jamie didn’t have the chance to catch, but otherwise, it’s her show and we’re immensely happy to have her with us. So Jamie, take it away! [José]

Whenever I plan a big trip around a music event, I try to lay low for a couple weeks leading up to a whirlwind of long flights, live music, and late nights. That said, I pregamed Roadburn 2026 at a heavy music festival in my home base of Chicago. The seventh edition of Forever Deaf Fest was its biggest and most successful yet, but it was also bittersweet. It arrived roughly a week after the death of local musician Bo Lueders, the Harm’s Way guitarist and co-host of the popular HardLore podcast, on April 2, leaving the city’s hardcore and metal community reeling.

Lueders’ memory radiated especially bright throughout the fest’s hardcore and grindcore-heavy second night as bands like Weekend Nachos paid tribute onstage and encouraged audience members to look out for one another. Along with powerful performances from a reunited Plague Bringer and grind masters Pig Destroyer (who played a special set commemorating the 25th anniversary of the game-changing ‘Prowler In the Yard’), the energy in the venue felt more than good - it felt vital. I hope it brought a sense of solidarity and strength to those grieving their friend or facing any other challenge or hardship in our wild and scary times.

Less than 24 hours later, I was en route to the airport for the first leg of my trip to Roadburn 2026. Shifting gears between the two fests left me thinking more broadly about independent music festivals. What makes a festival unique? How do they forge distinct identities and cultivate atmospheres that bring people back for years on end? In Chicago, they seem to pop up like daisies, whether hyperlocal mini-fests at DIY spaces or small-to-midsized events catering to fans of any given genre or niche - and the city is hardly alone in that regard. Soon after I arrived in the Netherlands I learned I’d barely missed experimental music focused Rewire Festival in the Hague. Throughout Roadburn, people talked about other fests they planned to attend this year - a lot of eyes were set on the upcoming Fire in the Mountains in Montana.

You could argue the market is oversaturated, but I believe the rise of independent music festivals has generally been a good thing, since they provide opportunities for music lovers to connect with art, build community, and nurture personal expression. In the best case scenarios, they challenge perspectives and change lives. And many do so while largely - sometimes entirely - subverting entertainment behemoths, megacorporate advertisers, and digital algorithms that would homogenize us all. (Suffice to say, your festival attendance can help defend against fascism, whether the bands are blatantly political or not!)

27 years after its first edition, Roadburn stands out as a gold standard for what’s possible when a festival hits a certain mix of ambition, experimentation, and heart. There may be more direct counterparts elsewhere in the world, but in the U.S., I have yet to find a fest that celebrates such a sweeping mix of heavy music styles and the spirit of the subcultures that birthed them while presenting them as art on par with opera, jazz, or anything else; (Big Ears in Knoxville, Tennessee and Sound & Gravity in Chicago both overlap with Roadburn in some important ways, but to date neither has embraced much in the way of metal, hardcore, or noise).

I’d suggest that artist-first mentality - along with a curatorial vision that’s grown more expansive, diverse, and inclusive over time - is what drives fans to Roadburn year after year from around the globe, despite the logistical hurdles and expense. I don’t know the official stats for 2026, but last year organizers estimated that attendees had traveled to Tilburg from 52 different countries. Those figures are all the more remarkable with the knowledge that tickets were limited to around 4,500.

That sort of enthusiasm and passion permeates Roadburn’s atmosphere. How could it not? And maybe because life in 2026 is hard all over, this year’s edition felt like a true respite from the outside world. A very loud respite, of course. My friend Jordan once nicknamed the festival “Hugburn,” for all the good vibes. After five nights and four days of hearing artists say things like “I love you,” “Hug the person next to you,” and “Be kind to each other” from the stage, and sharing special moments with new and old friends, I can confirm it fits more than ever. It’s a lot of posi energy from a corner of music more associated with the darker aspects of humanity than with sunshine and buttercups. Or maybe it’s sheer catharsis.

The festival highlights José and I have compiled here are just the high points of our own Roadburn experiences (and only some of the high points, at that!). Forget FOMO, the operating mindset at Roadburn is knowing you’re going to miss out on some spectacular things because there’s so much goddamn talent and only one of you to go around. So best to embrace the journey as it comes. [Jamie]

Krallice (Thursday, Friday and Sunday, Main Stage and The Terminal)

There is a funny expression in Portuguese that goes like “não há fome que não dê em fartura,” which translates to something like “there is no hunger that does not lead to abundance,” and a good example of that was this trio of Krallice shows at Roadburn this year. After waiting for literally decades with only one small appearance (in Tilburg, of all places, at Incubate 2014) to show for it, us European Krallice nerds finally got a real sense of what it is like to experience this band on stage, and in spades. Divided over three different performances, aligned with the festival’s recent ethos of “past, present, future,” they satisfied every single fan (and it turns out there’s lots of us out there) with shows based on their earlier, more black metal-oriented material (past), and you might have seen me going apeshit in the crowd on that one, on their more recent, synth-heavy stuff (present), and a mindblowing run through their forthcoming album (future) that really left us drooling for its announcement (spoiler: it might not take long, now). The fact that this simple description of what happened, without any need for further details, is likely enough to send any Krallice-fueled mind into overdrive, really says it all about the dimension of this band. Watching them play is like a mental exercise where you’re constantly catching up. Their relationship with their instruments is fascinating enough for me to say that I would genuinely watch a Krallice show with no sound, and while you’re super-focused on what’s going on with each of them and how on Earth it is possible for a human being to extract those sounds out of them, your brain is going a million miles an hour processing the actual combination of everything, all the unexpected detours, all the unpredictable rhythms, all the patterns that have already changed into different ones when you figure them out. And in the end, crucially, it all gels into, well, awesome music, to put it simply, instead of just “look how weird we play” fun but ultimately meaningless games like bands at this technical level often, and sadly, default to. I know Roadburn has no real headliners, and unlike many other festivals who claim that, in this case it’s really true, but I don’t know how the fuck you can ever top something like this. Or three somethings like these, more like. [José]

Fauna (Thursday, Next Stage)
Fauna’s Next Stage performance had me imagining what would’ve happened if the wildest psychedelic and experimental bands of the ‘60s and ‘70s travelled into the future and convened in a sweaty subterranean dance club. The Gothenburg collective make meditative, semi-improvised music that combines classic rock instrumentation with electronic beats, hand percussion, and flute, and their exploratory, propulsive sound nods to its members’ diverse heritages. Their bio lists Swedish, French, Finnish, Polish, Syrian, and Turkish roots, and they incorporate lyrics in Arabic, Swedish, and French. Fauna’s Roadburn appearance came just days after the release of their debut album, ‘Taiga Trans’, on April 10, but you didn’t need to know that to feel the festive vibe. Though they formed just three years ago, they’re already masters at building tantalizing atmospheres that could transport the listener to universes unknown. No hips were left unshaking as Fauna sailed through their imaginative mix of global psych, krautrock, Syrian folk, and electronic dance music. [Jamie]

Ufomammut (Thursday, main stage)

There are some things worth crossing an ocean for, and for many Roadburners the chance to hear your favorite heavy bands on 013’s main stage is one of those things. As much as I love my small and mid-sized venues, few book the underground bands I adore and match the sonic qualities of Tilburg’s premiere concert hall. (I’ve long argued that orchestra halls and theaters should present more underground music, but I’ll jump on that soapbox another time). That’s all to say, Ufomammut were among my must-sees at Roadburn 2026, and their Thursday set didn’t just set a high bar for the weekend, it catapulted the bar past the stratosphere. The Italian psychlords have a long relationship with the festival, but they hadn’t graced its stages in fifteen years. If there was any question the trio are still in a class of their own when it comes to boundary-pushing space metal, their triumphant return would’ve ended the debate. Accompanied by heady visuals from their Malleus Rock Art Lab collective (which also presented an exhibit titled Magick at NS16), the band played material from across their ample catalog, delivering the goods and grooves throughout; The immense, trippy ‘Zodiac’ from 2017’s ‘8’ and the thunderous, cosmic ‘Kismet’ from 2024’s ‘Hidden’ (both on Neurot) were so heavy and thick they could make getting punched with a wrecking ball hit like a light slap. In all, the set felt like a celebration of the music Roadburn was built on and a portal into the future of heavy psychedelic music. [Jamie]

Unsane (Thursday, Next Stage)

Unsane playing ‘Occupational Hazard’. What? Oh, hi. No, I was just repeating that to myself, I’ve been doing that ever since the evening of April 16th, just to make sure that it really happened and that it wasn’t just a fever dream that I’ll wake up from next time I hit my head on the nightstand. It sure as hell felt like a fever dream during the whole show. With the recently renovated trio in a kind of form that can only be described as “absolutely on fire” - I’ve loved every Unsane lineup, but Eric Cooper and Jon Syverson really make an unstoppable team alongside Chris -, the show was so intense and so to-the-fucking-bone that surprisingly, I would say even blasphemously, halfway through it felt like it wasn’t really about ‘Occupational Hazard’, specifically, anymore. I mean, of course it’s special to finally hear all of these songs in order, but it felt like they could have played anything that it would have crushed in equal measure. Maybe to kinda prove that, the band stopped just short of ‘Understand’, the album’s last song, and going way over their allotted time (thank you, mr. stage manager, for allowing it), drenched in sweat and visibly exhausted, tore through songs from three other albums (‘Organ Donor‘, ‘Vandal X‘, ‘Against The Grain‘, ‘Scrape‘ and ‘Empty Cartridge‘) which hit indeed just as hard as all the others had, losing none of the sharpness and impact. Regardless of your favourite album, the magic really is Unsane, whatever they choose to do. By the time ‘Understand’ really closed proceedings, bodies in the audience felt like having gone through a hundred rounds with a heavyweight champ, ears loudly ringing, totally done with music for the night, but happier than can even be described. [José]

Bad Breeding (Thursday, Next Stage)

Once upon a time, fast and furious punk music was far enough outside of Roadburn’s typical psychedelic, stoner rock, and metal fare that its shadow could only be felt in a handful of performances from bands who crossed over into darker, crustier, and sludgier territory. Even grindcore pioneers Napalm Death were inspired to slow down to a near halt for a special experimental set in 2014. If Roadburn 2026 proved those days are long gone, few bands embodied the shift more than Bad Breeding, who carry the torch of anacho-punk pioneers like Crass and Rudimentary Peni and fuel it with modern hardcore, post-punk, noise, and their own political rage and discontentment. After headlining The Spark on Wednesday night, the UK four-piece returned to the Next Stage on Thursday evening for a riveting full-album set of their raucous fifth album, 2024’s ‘Contempt’. Bad Breeding are a force on that record, but it would be straight-up impossible to bottle up their raw magnetism and the frenetic energy of their live show. Watching them tear through tracks like the blistering neoliberalist takedown ‘Liberty’, and the noise-riddled call for collective action and solidarity ‘Retribution’, I couldn’t imagine anyone walking away feeling less than inspired to fight the good fight. [Jamie]

Also, Chris Dodd, please rise and accept the best dressed man award, with your Hellhammer t-shirt and Christian Death (real, ‘Only Theatre Of Pain’ Christian Death, mind you) backpatch, you legend. [José]

Yellow Eyes (Friday, Engine Room)
Some festivals start their daily programs with artists who play soft or gentle music to ease their crowds into a long day of performances. Not Roadburn. If you were still adjusting from jetlag or struggling to keep your eyes open after tying one on at Tilburg’s “Midget Bar” into the wee hours of the morning, Yellow Eyes’ sublime 1pm set would have solved that problem for you. Led by brothers Will and Sam Skarstad, the New York atmospheric black metal group surprised fans when they dropped their ambitious seventh album, ‘Confusion Gate’ (Gilead Media), on Halloween 2025 - a two-years-in-the-making answer to their dungeon synth-influenced 2023 full length, ‘Master’s Murmur’. It was a thrill to hear them bring several of the record’s rich, ornate tracks and others to life. The five piece were in full throttle, with Will Skarstad serving as a ferocious frontman. Though the Engine Room had some sound issues during the festival, they didn’t seem to plague Yellow Eyes, who had the audience in a sonic chokehold as they powered through songs like ‘The Thought Of Death’. [Jamie]

Jesse Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter (Friday, Next Stage)

It’s never a good sign when someone comes up on stage before the band to announce they’ve got “good news and bad news,” especially when it’s the show that your heart is the most yearning to see. My devotion to Jesse Sykes and her music has been well documented in these pages and beyond, and after fifteen years of absence from the Roadburn stages and the addition in the meantime of the sublime ‘Forever, I’ve Been Being Born’ new album, let’s just say anticipation was a little high. Judging by the quietly anxious expressions of those around me in the packed room, I’m going to go ahead and guess I wasn’t the only one. So the bad news were that Jesse had come down with a sudden illness (turns out it was some kind of allergic reaction) and had totally lost her voice. The good news were that they band had agreed to go ahead and try to play a sort of instrumental show (apparently convinced by the stage manager, the same guy from the previous night’s Unsane excessive madness. I don’t know the dude’s name, but I want to hand him the Roadburn 2026 medal of honour). Now then, I can’t say that I’m ever disappointed by anything Jesse and guitarist Phil Wandscher choose to do, and I’m glad they were brave enough to play through these tough circumstances (now in hindsight, I am more than glad, I am forever grateful), but I won’t deny my heart sank a little when I heard that. Jesse’s voice and words are of course a crucial part of what makes these songs so moving, on top of it with this being a “minimalist” version of the band, with just the core duo and their guitars. Most of all I felt for her and Phil, on such a meaningful return to an important stage, to be going through this. The best thing I can say about the show is that all those thoughts went away soon as they started playing. Jesse being Jesse, she still attempted to provide some voice on a few songs, and her hushed whisperings actually leant them a different, yet quite valid colour. (actually, a friend of mine told me later that someone he knew who hadn’t seen the announcement at the beginning and wasn’t very familiar with this music told him he really loved the “coarse” vocal approach and wanted to know some of the albums he could listen to!) But more than that, it was clear the spell was entirely being cast regardless of the vocal approach, or of its presence at all. The feeling and the soul in these songs, a few from the new album and a few old ones mixed in the set (‘Winter Hunter’ from ‘Oh, My Girl’ was a particular stomach punch), seemed to become even deeper. Given the hardship of the situation and the way the crowd fully embraced the band for going through with the show, there was connection established between artist and audience of a nature that I’ve rarely seen before. To put it another way - I made two little videos during the show, one with Jesse’s voice on it and another without, the latter of which you can see up there. The other one I’m keeping private, because it kind of feels like you had to be there to really feel it properly. It was that kind of communion. [José]

Backengrillen (Friday, Next Stage)

I cannot possible add anything to the brilliant words Jamie wrote about it below, but I’d just like to show you guys an example of how much childlike wonder and enthusiasm this show generated in my little cold dead heart - the pic above is one that I took with my phone, added the emoji crown to, and shared to a WhatsApp group that we have with a bunch of other Roadburners, with the caption, and I quote myself, “BEHOLD THE KING OF ROADBURN 2026!”, all of this while my mind was being flayed alive by the noise coming from the stage, mind you. All hail Dennis Lyxzén. [José]

Refused’s phenomenal farewell tour in the U.S. last spring left me wondering what the future would hold for the Swedish post-hardcore greats. So, I was thrilled when three quarters of the band - bassist Magnus Flagge, drummer David Sandström, and singer Dennis Lyxzén - announced they’d joined forces with free jazz saxophonist and flautist (and fellow Umeå native) Mats Gustafsson under the name Backengrillen. Gustafsson, of course, is a familiar face at Roadburn, having performed with The End in 2019 and FIRE! in 2025, and you can count on anything he touches to be an adventure worth exploring, no matter how far it roams. If Backengrillen’s Roadburn performance is any indication, he’s met his match in his latest band mates. The group, who were joined by a live flautist, had hauled what looked like a truckload of electronic effects on stage, and they used them to stretch and squeeze the sound of their instruments and vocals into uncanny wails and funhouse-mirror shapes. As you might expect, given the parties involved, Backengrillen has made no mystery of their politics; they describe their music as “anti-fascist, anti-racist free form death jazz.” By the end of their set, they’d built a tension-laden ball of ecstatic noise and ferocious bass and drums that felt like it might burst out of the small room like the flame of a thousand Molotov cocktails. [Jamie]

Aho Ssan & ASIA: (Saturday, Next Stage)
Roadburn or otherwise, it’s always interesting to observe which festival sets generate a buzz and which wind up becoming comparatively secret gems. In that regard, you might consider the Saturday afternoon performance from this Paris-based duo of composer and sound designer Aho Ssan (Niamké Désiré) and violinist ASIA (Asia Jiménez Antón de Vez) a sleeper success. When I arrived at the Next Stage just before their set began, the room was still empty enough that I easily made it to the guardrail at the foot of the stage. That proved to be an excellent spot. I’d noticed crowd chatter overwhelming some of the loudest bands on the main stage (it even brought me back down to Earth a couple times during Ufomammut’s intergalactic set), but pretty much everyone here seemed locked in as the duo began fusing layered electronic textures with mournful violin, building up to something simultaneously ecstatic and haunting. It might be tempting to liken the music to a sound bath for its deep, immersive qualities, except you’d rather bask in the waves of emotion than let go. This last May, Aho Ssan released his third album, ‘The Sun Turned Black’ (Subtext / Ici, D’ailleurs), which features a collaborative piece with ASIA titled ‘The Children of Noise’, and it’s a treat every bit as good as this Roadburn performance. [Jamie]

Nothing (Friday, Main Stage)
Talk to any seasoned Roadburner, and one of the first tips they’ll give you is to not tether yourself too much to a rigid schedule. Walk around, explore, wander into rooms where bands you don’t know are playing, allow yourself to be surprised and amazed by everything that’s going on. And I can tell you, after twenty years of Roadburn, this stuff still happens to the most jaded of us. See, I like Nothing, but I’ve seen them many times, I hadn’t even heard the new album yet (which they were performing, most of it anyway), so I went for Bound By Endogamy which started at the same time in the Next Stage, which is right next door to the Main Stage at the 013 venue. Amazing and energetic as that show was - and it really was impressive -, it was so full of boundless energy that I felt I was at a fitness class just by looking at it, and I was so exhausted at that point that I just told the people I was it that I was going to peek into Nothing next door just to sit down for a bit, because the Main Stage has steps at the back that you can comfortably sit on while still seeing the stage pretty well in most cases. I know it’s a shit thing to say, like I cared more about Operation Sit Down (it’s a thing) than whatever band was playing, but it’s true, I did. And that’s why this blurb made it onto the final post, because after a couple of minutes, it hit me. Nothing were truly able to turn my exhaustion around, by the sheer power of being an amazing live band. I thought of all the other times I had seen them, at Roadburn included, in the very beginning of their career, and how the enormity of what they were doing on a stage this big, awesome projections and all, was so far removed from that - while still sounding like the same band. That’s the hard bit. Even with the older songs they unearthed, like ‘Hymn To The Pillory’ off the first album for instance, it was still Nothing, just bigger, louder, better. I obviously stayed until the end, transfixed, and you know what, I fucking stood up for most of it. [José]

RÓIS (Saturday, Next Stage)

The worst thing for a writer to admit is that they’re lacking words for something, but one has to be honest too. It’s hard to come up with any kind of language that illustrates what you feel after a performance by Irish artist RÓIS. I couldn’t even decide if I was feeling too much, or rather if I had been emptied of feelings completely. Her haunting presence, face covered by ornate lace, emitting that spectral Elizabeth Frasier-as-a-ghost type of voice, the devastatingly mournful effect of her compositions, mixing caoineadh (keening) with folk and electronics, it’s all so intense and yet so restrained at the same time that it feels like your brain and heart just need to shut down for a while. Songs from ‘MÓ LÉAN’, new songs, even something as apparently unchangeable as Nirvana’s ‘Something In The Way’, they are all consumed by the enveloping shadow of RÓIS. Along with the whole crowd. Yikes. [José]

Sir Richard Bishop (Sunday, Hall of Fame)
Roadburn is a study in contrasts as much as anything else, and the mindfucks that stem from the sensory and sonic flip-flops are part of the fun. After witnessing New York avant-garde black metal outfit Krallice open the Terminal stage on Sunday afternoon with their icy, beautiful, and intricate “Present” set (the third installation of their artist-in-residence series), I headed to the Engine Room for a solo performance from experimental guitarist and composer Sir Richard Bishop. The Portland based musician first came to prominence as a co-founder of Sun City Girls and is known for his improv-heavy fingerstyle guitar, which he peppers with influences from the Middle East, North Africa, India, and elsewhere. His latest album, September’s ‘Hillbilly Ragas’, takes a sledgehammer to the notion of the American Primitive guitar tradition, envisioning instead what sort of songs a reclusive backwoods musician might write if left to his own devices. At a festival where punishingly loud, noisy, and metallic music abound, Bishop’s ability to mesmerize a packed house with his voice and guitar stood out. No matter how raw and aggressive the music ever ran, it was easy to lose yourself in the nuances of his warm, expressive guitar playing. [Jamie]

Warning (Sunday, Main Stage)
A Warning performance is a rare treat. The UK doom band briefly regrouped for the first time in years to play Roadburn 2017, followed by a couple short tours. When they hung up their hats again, most fans assumed that was that. Chapter closed. Fast forward to August 2025, and Warning revealed they’d signed to Relapse and were working on new material. Then, just a week before Roadburn 2026, they announced their first studio record in twenty years, ‘Rituals Of Shame’, due June 19. That all added to the anticipation around Warning’s Sunday evening set; If there was any last-day-of-the-festival exhaustion, you wouldn’t have known it by the energy in the room. Front man Patrick Walker had cohosted a karaoke party in the venue’s basement, which unfortunately left him struggling with his voice at certain moments. But that didn’t take away from the magnitude of the set, as the band played songs off ‘Rituals’ and their 2006 second album ‘Watching from a Distance’. The latter had become a genre landmark in the band’s absence for its rich, slow-burning sound and raw emotional resonance. Maybe (definitely!) I’m sentimental, but it’s always beautiful to witness people share in music that, for most, had previously been a highly - if not entirely - individualized experience, and I noticed people around me embracing and kissing from the band’s first notes. If Warning’s sparse arrangements sound huge on their records, they sound absolutely gargantuan live, and on songs like ‘Ritual’s gorgeous, gut-wrenching ‘Night Comes Down’ and ‘Watching…’s title track, the effect was overwhelming in the best possible way. [Jamie]

Kollaps (Sunday, Hall Of Fame)

As one of the very last bands of the entire festival (I still tried K-X-P afterwards, but my mind was shot), Kollaps is just about everything you don’t need, which in a way is just the correct Roadburn vibe to be left with. After four/five days of the emotional and sonic rollercoaster that mine and Jamie’s texts hopefully were able to transmit in some way, you’d think you’d like something quiet, something relaxed, something that allows you to sit back and start to process thing, something to quietly soothe the passage onto the ugly post-Roadburn reality. Well, then comes Kollaps with an industrial wall of sound so all-consuming, so relentless and so unforgiving that you actually start to fear for your health in there. It’s only three people up on stage, but it might as well be 30 for all the sheer volume they create. Vocalist Wade Black sure suffers for 30 people on his own, shrieking, spitting, leaning over the audience and even (apparently) cutting himself at one point. You wanted a quiet evening, instead you got a harrowing, cathartic representation of loss and grief and total emotional breakdown. See you next year, same place! [José]

Roadburn 2027 takes place in Tilburg, The Netherlands, on April 15-18.
Get your ticket here.

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