Live Recap: Maryland Deathfest 2026
(Words and photos by Diary of Doom)
Upon leaving Nevermore Hall after the Oransi Pazuzu set at Maryland Deathfest, we found ourselves walking into a frigid rainstorm. As both wind and water pelted us, a fellow attendee behind us remarked:
“Maryland Deathfest? More like Maryland Wetfest!”
If ever there was an appropriate word for this MDF weekend, it was that: Wet. Damp, moist, and chilly would also be appropriate. I would even throw “swamp ass” into the mix.
Since we had such a good time at last year’s edition of MDF, my partner, Sarah, and I kept the festival in mind for 2026. As more bands rolled out that caught our eye, we settled on going down once more to Baltimore, albeit in a slightly reduced fashion. One of the big band draws in this year’s lineup was the highly influential black/thrash band Sarcofago. Well, sort of. It was a performance of their material by original bassist Gerald “Incubus” Minelli and his band, The Laws.
I certainly appreciate Sarcofago’s lasting impact on heavy metal, but there are bigger fans out there than I. To some degree, it would have felt more like we were seeing them just to say we saw them rather than be actually amped about it. Somebody who is a serious long timer deserves that space more than I. The few other bands that interested us (Death Angel, Woe, Cemetery Moon) did not justify the additional ticket purchases. I’d seen Cancer in 2022 as well as Vio-Lance, which was one of the worst sets I’ve seen in my life. Both of us saw Batushka in their prime before there were two Batushkas and we stopped giving a shit about that. As such, we opted to head back to Brooklyn on Sunday rather than attend the final day of the festival.
Bongripper
In the days leading up to the fest, we were watching the weather like hawks. The 2025 edition had been blessed with fantastic sunny days. This year, we were cursed with rain and wind. For a brief spell beforehand, it seemed like the weather would break, but Mother Nature was playing us. It rained on the way down, it rained most of the weekend, and it rained when we were going home. The show went on as no thunder or lightning occurred during the festival, so we’d just have to shake off the dreariness. No sudden tornado warning either.
We departed on Wednesday, May 20th. Once again, we took the train. This year, we took the Acela down, which was promised as a two-hour trip. This turned into a five-hour trip due to a brush fire that broke out in, unsurprisingly, Philadelphia. Oddly enough, a similar incident occurred on Wall Street that same day when an MTA vehicle exploded into a blaze. After logging many more hours onto my Switch than expected (playing Skyrim, Argonian warrior build, and Batman: Arkham Asylum), we finally got down to Baltimore. The weather had changed from gross and hot to gross and wet. We gathered provisions for the weekend at the local Whole Foods.
On Thursday, we spent the day walking around the Inner Harbor and going to the American Visionary Art Museum, which is excellent. They had some phenomenal exhibits featuring Mary Proctor and Koreloy Wildrekinde-McWhirter, the latter of whom I found profoundly moving. Do yourself a solid and visit their website. We stopped at DiPasquales for Italian sandwiches then picked up our wristbands for the shows later in the day. We visited Whole Foods again to grab a crate of water, National Bohemian, and salads to ensure decent BMs. After that, we finally headed over to Power Plant Live! to kick off the fest. At this time, the weather was light on and off rain, resulting in one of the more comfortable climates of the weekend. Shame it didn’t last, but for today, it was better than the ninety degree plus heat that has permeated MDF weekend before.
Solitude Aeturnus
We started to take in some of the sights at MDF. We saw “Vin Diesel” again. The banana costume people were back as were the furries. A new addition to the menagerie this year were, as I called them, the “Pig People.” They were a couple dressed in cloaks and their faces adorned in the masks of dead pigs. They were not actual dead pig faces, just rubber masks. It was not unlike the visage that Jigsaw of SAW fame used when he had to parade around without his little doll.
The first band we saw was one I had been eagerly awaiting to cross off my bucket list: Bongripper. It’s probably hard to believe that the Diary of Doom guy hadn’t seen them already, but hey, we’ve all got those bands. They were actually a fill-in for Windhand. We’ve seen Windhand a bunch, so when I heard the news I was elated. I respect their choice to be instrumental so much. Just let the riffs do the talking. And talk they did. Through their entire set of just two songs, “Worship” and “Nothing”, Bongripper unleashed some juicy ass riffage. Just before the set started, I ran into Mike from Leather Lung because people from NYC magnetically attract one another wherever they may be. I’d bumped into Mike the two previous times I was at the fest, so this was entirely not shocking to me.
We took a bathroom break after the Bongripper set. I had to wait a while to use the stall as two fellas were bumping lines in it. After grabbing a couple of Deathfest Lagers (made by Peabody Heights Brewing and veering into stadium pricing at $13 a pop), we headed back into the Power Plant crowd to catch the November’s Doom set. I’d seen them before at the 2022 fest. We weren’t sure if we were going to stay for the whole set, but low and behold, we did. November’s Doom put on a great show. They knocked out eight songs in 45 minutes, impressive for a death doom band. They sounded tight. We had seen frontman, Paul Kuhr, earlier in the crowd signing things and taking pictures with folks. I couldn’t help but notice that he was brandishing on his vest, of all things, a huge 501st Legion backpatch. If you don’t know what that is because you aren’t a huge fucking nerd like I am, the 501st is an international group of Star Wars cosplayers. You know those folks you see dressed as Stormtroopers at Comic Con? Probably them. Kuhr further confirmed his Star Wars nerdom when we saw his forearm tattoo of Luke Skywalker’s second lightsaber. I wasn’t able to see it last time because the band was decked out in all black for their (outdoor in direct sunlight) set, but they were dressed much more comfortably this time around.
“Can someone get me a towel to dry off my BDSM bear bag?”
Our final band for the day was Solitude Aeturnus, whom Sarah was amped to see. They had been a foundational doom band for her. This was her Bongripper moment. Prior to the festival, Robert Lowe, the longtime vocalist, was announced as no longer being part of the band. Word on the internet was that he was more or less kaput as a singer and, oh yeah, moved to Norway to become a farmer. Filling in for Robert was Jason McMaster, whose resume as a singer is exhaustive. He even clocked in a turn with Armored Saint for a stint because John Bush was off doing an Anthrax reunion or something.
Early buzz was positive and we felt good about the set after hearing them soundchecking earlier in the day while we were getting our wristbands. It took them a song or two to get McMaster’s vocal mix right, but once they did, Solitude Aeturnus sounded stellar. The crowd came out hard for them and they were rockin’, something most doom bands can’t do properly. A bad vocal performance this evening would have really tanked the set so I am thankful the band made the necessary change. We even saw the Bongripper guys watching from the side stage for a bit, though when McMaster shouted out November’s Doom and not them, I had to imagine they were cracking jokes about it. “But what about Bongripper?!” After that, it was lights out for us because we had a big day ahead of us.
Friday was the gauntlet of a day. Shows started at 3:45PM and ran well past 1AM. We spent the morning doing PT exercises and icing our feet, trying as hard as we could to do as Mr. Freeze said: CHEEELLL OWWWT. The weather was putting a real damper on the day with consistent winds and wet air rolling in later on in the day. It was a multiple layers and ibuprofen day.
Eyeing the band or the combo deal?
The first band we caught at the Market Place stage (the big outdoor stage nestled between a Marshall’s and various eateries) was Witch Vomit. They are one of my current favorite death metal acts, enjoying all of their releases plus they got a sick logo. The rain had really started to come in by the time they started, which bummed me out. I was already feeling tired, the dampness slowly lurching over me. I started to feel defeated, asking myself if this trip had really felt worth it, but quickly remembered that Witch Vomit was playing sick death metal. They did look pretty great in the rain. I shook it off and got back to enjoying the tunes.
Necrofier, a melodic black metal band out of Texas, was up next. If you know Oceans of Slumber, the bands share a drummer in the form of Dobber Beverly. We liked the portion of the set that we saw. No new ground was broken here in terms of black metal, but they are just very good at what they do. During the set, we once again saw folks lining up in the ascending levels of the nearby parking garage as they had last year. We’ll never know if these folks actually had tickets to the event (maybe for the indoor sets), but it seemed like a good concert hack this year. There were some additional viewers peering out from the Marshall’s next door too. This shit will never cease to amuse me.
Leaving the Marketplace, we had our first run in with MDF event staff. Broadly speaking, we thought it sucked this year. I can’t comment on what the barrier guards were like fielding the crowd surfers and moshers, but the entry and venue folk were nightmares to deal with on Friday at times. I mean downright ornery. Gone sour. In this instance, as we were going through the entry gates, it was demanded of Sarah that she return to the back of the line because her bag, a small fanny pack, was not open when she got up to the gate. She opened it for the security guard for him to check it. The man proceeded to yell in her face to go to the back. We both quickly exchanged looks before Sarah stepped out, walked about five feet back then u-turned back in, with nobody the wiser. Meanwhile, I managed to walk in multiple times with my bag under my rain jacket with more than a few LaCroix’s joining me. Nobody gave a shit nor felt the need to ask what that large lump was over my ass. We couldn’t help but feel there was just an itty bitty, teeny weeny bit of sexism backing up that guy’s tone towards Sarah.
Obligatory insensitive shirt
After dealing with that nonsense, we made our way into Nevermore Hall for our first show of the weekend there. It was for the Swedish black metal band Lomsk. They’re one of those bands that write songs about war. A lot of their appeal is clearly based on their aesthetic as they were decked out in trench coats and gas masks. Think a more evil version of the last iteration of Ghost if the band was composed of just the nameless ghouls. Their names were also hilarious: The Colonel, The Lieutenant, The Major, The Captain. Oh Captain, My Captain? If I went to sea with him, could he officiate my wedding?
Anyway, Lomsk’s brand of black metal, at least to me, is more cool to listen to than it is to see it played live. The two guitarists and single bass player were pretty immobile. They just hit those notes over and over again and ambled about a little. We stuck around only for a few songs because it got boring really fast. For such intense music, there was just not much life in it. Humorously, Sarah and I put our COVID masks on not just because we were inside, but because the entire venue had adopted the scent of a high school locker room. That distinctive stench of sweat, dampness, and ass.
A Furry friend
Time for another run-in with MDF venue staff. As we were exiting, we were asked by a staff member if we were “from there.” We assumed he meant that we were coming from inside Nevermore wanting to exit, so we said yes. He moved a gate aside to let us through only to be stopped at the exit by another staff member who kept demanding to know who we worked for. We said we just wanted to leave. “You don’t work for someone?!” At this point, the initial staff guy came over and asked if we were working with one of the bands. We said “No! We just want to leave!” He apologized profusely as the other guy threw his hands up in frustration. We wound up circumventing the venue area to go back to the hotel room for a much needed breather and even more needed Natty Boh. Of course, I am now wondering what would have happened if we said yes about “working there.” Uh, yes, of course we’re the pastry runners for Lair of the Minotaur! Where are they?!
We made our way back, but not without grabbing some much desired Popeyes. Can’t beat two quality chicken sandwiches for $15. After our disappointment with the food vendors last year, we stuck with what we knew. After that, it was time for the Pan-Amerikan Native Front, who were 1000x more enjoyable than Lomsk. Fronted by Kurator of War and supported by a full band, they leaned more into traditional black metal with touches of their indigenous sounds here and there. There was less emphasis on the latter aspect than say Blackbraid. Still, they were a whole lot of fun. We wound up catching most of their set. They too have a sick logo.
Back out at Market Place, the rain had subsided a bit as Rotting Christ took the stage. We love these boisterous Greeks, even with their absurdly edgy title. This was our second time seeing them and this go around, they were doing an oldies set. The band has perfected their sound by now and gave those songs new life. They tore into cuts from as far back as their 1991 EP Passage to Arcturo, though oddly included two tracks from their 2013 album Kata Ton Daimona Eaytoy. Also, why the hell aren’t they providing the score for The Odyssey? Chris Nolan missed the chance to have Matt Damon leading a Greek battalion while “Non Serviam” blares over them.
We 180’d with the crowd back to Nevermore. Thankfully, we had no issues with security. In fact, one of the door guys gave us high fives. We were back to catch Wayfarer. That circle of folks in the Denver, CO scene has given us some of the best metal of our day and age. There’s so much variety to it and all played with exceptional skill. Wayfarer is just another example of that. Combining Western tones with black metal, they have created one of the coolest sounding bands ever. Not once does it ever feel like they are abusing the gimmick. They whip so much ass. TOVH regulars know this. Unfortunately, drummer Isaak Faulk was not present for this show, wrapped up in a Blood Incantation ritual somewhere. Fill-in drummer Jeff Malpezzi picked up the slack effortlessly. I wish the set went on for another 20 minutes.
After Wayfarer, we galloped up to Angel’s Rock Bar, the free to enter venue with any weekend ticket. Withering Soul, a melodic black metal band, was playing there. They’d piqued our interest prior to the fest, but I hadn’t really looked into them any deeper. As I am writing this, I am astounded to say that this band has been active since 1999! Good for these fellas to keep on keeping on after all these years. We stuck around for a few songs before we went to go see Old Man’s Child buy merch. Folks were clearly amped for OMC, but I was not and just had a passing listen as we pranced back to the hotel to drop off our newly acquired shirts.
By this point in the day, my feet were just about ready to fall off. We were stiff, damp, and still had two more bands to see. Sarah opted out to the next one to save her energy for the final act, but I went to see The Crown at Power Plant Live! The Crown had announced they were calling it quits this year, with MDF as one of their final performances. Full disclosure, I am no long time fan, but figured, why the hell miss this? A lot of folks came out for this one. They sounded great. I can’t think of a better way for them to close the curtains than with a set at Maryland Deathfest.
We finally got to the closing act of the day: Oranssi Pazuzu. Having stepped into a more electronic space with their most recent album, 2024’s Muuntautuja, I was a little concerned that they would forgo their black metal side in favor of that. Needless to say, I was again blown away by them. This band is able to capture a gigantic sound in smaller venues. It is enveloping and atmospheric. Coupled with the immense fatigue that was washing over me, I felt like I was drifting off to traverse the inside of a thunder storm with Oranssi as my guides. Their ability to create scope reminds me of seeing Nine Inch Nails, a band who is accustomed to playing huge venues with the luxury of complex lighting rigs. Oranssi can do that on a small scale without losing any of their edge. It was a cinematic experience.
The Oranssi set wrapped up around 1:20 AM. We made a beeline for the exit along with everyone else. As I alluded to at the beginning of the recap, the weather had taken a hard turn for the worse with heavy, cold rain coming down. To add insult to injury, the staff had managed to have a school bus that was doubling as a food stand block off the main avenue out of the venue area. We were forced to exit almost single file through the outdoor seating areas. Water was cascading off the tops of bars and other covering. The area had effectively turned into a makeshift waterpark. You know how at those places they have arches and constructs made of piping to walk around while highly chlorinated water flows constantly out of them? It was like that, but awful. Thankfully, I brought another pair of shoes because my brand new Brooks were completely soaked through. I even had to blow dry my orthotics the next morning because they were so water logged.
On Saturday, we slept in, got hotel coffee, and took it easy. Sarah brought her Theragun with her. Let me tell you, that thing was a god send and helped me get through the last day of shows. We finally got moving, picking up our wristbands solely for Nevermore Hall that day and then watched Warbringer at the Market Place stage from outside the fence. Easily the most clutch move we did the whole weekend. No crowds to deal with, just the entertaining looks of normies going by, most of whom seemed to think Warbringer was awesome. And they were right, because Warbringer was awesome. John Kevill is an excellent frontman. He has great presence and very good stage banter. Just the right amount. For whatever reason, MDF attendees seemed to be in much brighter spirits today. We raised horns and bumped fists with several passing by. Maybe it was early, maybe it was the hair of the dog kicking in. Maybe things were finally going according to plan. Who knows, but the spirit was appreciated.
Warbringer
Later on, we took a car over to Johnny Rad’s for pizza then sauntered over to the Ministry of Brewing for beers before going back to Nevermore Hall. I gifted them another bottle of 3 Floyd’s Dark Lord as I did last year. They kindly returned the favor with three six-packs of my choosing. Great space, tasty beer, and super friendly folks running the place. We even traded stories about past experiences with 3 Floyd’s and their questionable attitudes.
After a pit stop back at the hotel to drop off the beer, we zipped over to Nevermore to catch Hellbutcher. All the songs sounded the same but they were a trip to watch. These old black metal guys are so silly. It looked like Hellbutcher was either gearing up for a wrestling match or the most awkward BDSM of his life. I was shocked to discover the man had only just turned 50. I texted a pic of him to a friend, prompting him to ask who would win in a fight, him or Blackie Lawless. They played through their album and then dipped into covers: “Losfer Words (Big ‘Orra)” by Iron Maiden, “Die in Fire” by Bathory, and closed with “Black Metal” by Venom.
The penultimate set was Havukruunu, one of the key bands we came down to see. Not since Stormkeep have I wanted to run across a field brandishing a broadsword so badly as I have listening to this band. Tavastland was one of my favorite releases from last year so I was amped for this set. They delivered the goods. These fellas know how to write music that is both epic and a total blast to experience. Frontman Stefan was decked out in corpse paint and a cloak while bassist Humo was doing his best to look like LA sleaze wearing a vest with no shirt underneath and rocking a pair of shades. The crowd was gobbling it all up. Horns were raised. Plastic swords were crossed. Folks were singing along, despite the fact that the band sings in Finnish. I tried to la la la my way through a track before giving up and just enjoying it. This band absolutely rips. I would have taken another 30 minutes if they could.
Havukruunu
I made a stop in to see NYC boys Glorious Depravity at Angel’s Rock before calling it a night. Singer Doug Moore regaled us with a story about a friend’s previous time at MDF where said friend encountered Wee Man of Jackass fame in Angel’s Rock. He was shit faced and fell down the stairs outside. As much as I wanted to stick around for the whole set, I was bushed and reunited with Sarah to go back to the hotel since we were outta there the next morning.
Sunday morning, we packed up our things, got our caffeine fix, stretched our sore muscles, and headed over to the train. Rain was on the forecast for the rest of Memorial Day weekend so it was the perfect time to catch up on TV shows and be horizontal. Despite the less than optimal weather conditions and the shit event staff, Sarah and I were still thrilled we got to see the bands we had. Our favorite sets of the weekend were Solitude Aeturnus, Rotting Christ, Wayfarer, Oranssi Pazuzu, Warbringer, and Havukruunu. It was great to see Bongripper finally. I just wish they had more time to do their thing. Should Witch Vomit be coming to NYC on a less rainy day any time soon, I will be there, hopefully with Glorious Depravity opening.
As I wrote earlier, it remains to be seen if we will return to MDF again next year. The fest took a toll on my little feetsies. There would have to be some incredible gets on the lineup for us to venture down to McNulty’s town again. Even then, we could probably catch some of the bands in NYC on their way to the festival. In any case, it’s good to know Maryland Deathfest will be there whenever we feel the calling.
I’ll cap this off with an offhand comment I heard that made me laugh: “I saw God Dethroned, dude. Man… that guy? Henri Sattler? He’s so great. Like, I wanna fuck that guy.”
