LIVE RECAP: Prepare The Ground Fest 2026
(This recap was written by Meadow Wyand)
When Prepare The Ground announced Svalbard for this year’s fest, I knew I had to make it. The band has always been a favorite of mine and this was set to be their first and last show on North American soil. The rest of the lineup was also stacked with Tribunal, The Keening, Torche and more. I started a new job the week prior, so I was only able to make it Saturday. However, I had such a great time that I am planning on using some of that sweet, sweet PTO for the whole weekend next year.
My dad took me to see formative metal shows in Toronto when I was younger. Though I cherish seeing Judas Priest, Heaven & Hell and Mötorhead on The Metal Masters Tour, it had been a while since I’d made the trip. It’s only a four hour drive from Rochester, but like many trans Americans, I’ve been terrified of crossing the border. I made sure to get a State-issued Enhanced License instead of my Federal Passport to assuage some of my anxieties. I made it across just fine, but another layer of hell was waiting for me on the other side. Driving on the QEW is great if you like slamming on your brakes and adding 30-45 minutes to your commute.
Sadly, I missed Final Gasp and Blood Ceremony on Friday, but I was still stoked to get into the city. I checked into my hotel, took a much needed shower and made my way to Bloor Street. The hosting venues are conveniently nested near one another. Pass pickup was easy and the people running it were nice. The Arts Market was right next to the tent. Though modestly sized, the display of crafts and wares was fantastic. Since Prepare The Ground describes itself as a “Heavy Music & Arts” festival, it’s nice to see how much care went into curating the artist’s alley. It’s not just people selling bootleg Immortal DVD’s, there’s real workmanship on display. I wish I had more time to look around. It would be great to see this expand in coming years.
I made sure to get to Lee’s Palace when it opened at five. There’s a disclaimer when you buy tickets that says, “If there is an act you absolutely HAVE to see, we recommend you checking out that show an act or two early.” I didn’t want to take any chances with Svalbard. The energy bar in my fanny pack would be enough to hold me over until their set wrapped at 8:15. I’ve never been the hugest Amenra fan, but the prospect of seeing them doing a stripped back set sounded cool as hell.
It was a beautiful hour of music. There was a rare instance of the audience not clapping after the first song and that being the desired effect. The crowd was entranced by the hypnotic interplay of cello, clean guitars, acoustic bass and laid back drums. Colin H. van Eeckhout’s voice was stunning to hear in that context. His singing is so eloquent, I didn’t miss the harsh vocals at all. The band did two covers that the set was a perfect opportunity to feature, “Kathleen” by Townes Van Zandt and “Song to the Siren ” by Tim Buckley and This Mortal Coil. They were a highlight of the sunset hour.
There was an hour to kill until Svalbard came on. I freshened up in the bathroom and saw “fuck the cistem” written above a cartoon knife on the stall wall. I was starting to fall back in love with Toronto. I grabbed a Prepare The Ground lager from Woodhouse Brewing Company, ate my energy bar and found the perfect spot. I was one row from the stage with a small drink rest to lean my arm against. I talked up some metalheads around me and was infected by the unanimous enthusiasm for the event. When Svalbard started setting up, the lack of a barrier revealed how intimate it felt.
From the moment they took the stage, you knew you were witnessing something special. The crowd’s respectful restraint from Amenra erupted. Lee’s Palace was packed. Everyone was headbanging, moshing and shouting the words back at the band. I’ll admit to getting a little teary-eyed during “Open Wound.” The setlist was killer. They highlighted songs from their iconic last album The Weight of the Mask, but played a great mix from across their catalogue. “For the Sake of the Breed” was a gem. The band were tight and powerful. It felt like they were releasing all the joy and pain they felt over the past fifteen years.
Between each song, the crowd roared with fervorous love. Serena Cherry seemed genuinely taken aback. At first, she said “I wish I could capture the energy in this room and put it in a bottle.” This developed into “you all are going to make me cry.” The person standing next to me said, “are you sure you want to stop playing shows?” She responded, “It’s nights like tonight that make me reconsider.” The audience proceeded to chant the band’s name. They would have had enough cheering for an encore if the venue hadn’t started the house music after they finished. It makes sense though. These types of fests run on a tight schedule.
After Svalbard, I ate my first meal twelve hours after my breakfast in Rochester. (Car snacks don’t count, ok?). There was a vegan sushi place across the street that I couldn’t resist. In my eighteen years of veganism, that was a first. The food was good and the restaurant was indicative of Toronto. In every tight crevice, there’s something you won’t find anywhere else. Of all the cities I’ve been to, Toronto truly feels like one of the most multicultural and metropolitan.
I wanted to savor my avocado bean curd sushi and pine nut fried rice, so I took my time getting to Trinity St. Paul for Oranssi Pazuzu. I saw Oranssi Pazuzu at Maryland Deathfest in 2018 and thought they were one of the best live bands I’d ever seen. They captured my imagination with their last album Muuntautuja, but I wasn’t convinced they’d live up to my memory. I was happily proven wrong!
There is seldom more entrancing than seeing Oranssi Pazuzu live. They make such a fiery, layered racket and eat up the stage like it’s nothing. Fest attendees were debating the merits of their experimental tendencies in the hall: “I mean, I respect the hell out of them…” Maybe they’re too industrial or too Sonic Youth for some, but seeing them in a church was sacrilegious and divine.
Enamored as I was, I needed to head out a couple minutes early to catch Tómarúm at The Cave. The venue is right above Lee’s Palace. Note for note, Tómarúm might be the most talented players in the contemporary metal underground. I loved their last album, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria, and its predecessor, Ash in Realms of Stone Icons, so I was excited to see their epic, lofty material in a live setting. Their bassist was sadly absent for this show, but the three guitarists and drummer did an admirable job of playing along with the isolated bass tracks. (Seriously, it ain’t easy playing music that intricate and keeping the tempo consistent).
I’m not usually into bands that go ampless, but Tómarúm delivered enough riffs, atmosphere and melodic integrity to pull it off. It’s not just flashiness, there’s real substance to the songwriting. I looked around and could tell the audience were being journeyed through the same labyrinthine passages I was. The compact venue made the adventurousness of the set all the more compelling.
As I was leaving The Cave, I heard Oathbreaker’s “Second Son of R.” resounding from Lee’s Palace downstairs. I unsuccessfully tried to see Oathbreaker twice when I lived in Baltimore. The first time, they were opening for Skeletonwitch. I was working nights and couldn’t get to the venue in time. The second, they were on a bill with King Woman. The show was either running late or the former played over their set time. In either case, I saw two songs and had to catch the last train home. Now in Toronto, Habak was about to start at Tranzac. There was no way in hell I was missing that. Don’t get me wrong, Rheia was one of my favorite albums the year it came out, but at this point, I’d rather watch bands in their prime. I shrugged at this being the third time I almost saw Oathbreaker.
It’s a good thing too because the venue was at capacity. There was a line of people hoping to get in. I caught the end of a conversation between a group of frustrated attendees: “Ugh, whatever, let’s just go get a beer or something.” I get it. If I hadn’t gotten to see Svalbard, I would have been upset too. Beneath the ticket disclaimer that says you aren’t guaranteed entry, the fest organizers also write, “If you don’t make it in to see someone, we hope you’ll go and check out one of the other amazing acts… we are confident you will find a new favorite artist.” Prepare The Ground backs up that statement. Why grab a beer in silence when you can do the same watching a sick melodic crust band from Mexico?
Habak was very sick. I’m a sucker for their brand of emotional, post-rock infused crust punk. The band was a strong compliment to Svalbard. The two might appeal to different audiences, but the schedule highlighted their similarities. The sentimentality Svalbard captured was exploded in catharsis by Habak. The band played with so much passion and intensity, it was easy to forget the clock was turning past midnight.
I got lost in the beautiful swells that characterized the set’s clean passages. In a shoebound gaze, the propulsive energy of ensuing d-beats tore me from my wistfulness. The fierce, punishing vocals of Alejandra Valdez made me feel a sense of belonging and solidarity. I was in the right place surrounded by the right people.
Prepare The Ground is a fan run festival and it feels like it. It’s not an industry showcase. It’s wonderful to have a fest that features genres as diverse as post-metal, progressive black metal, melodic hardcore and dark folk. What’s more impressive is that it somehow all makes sense together. There’s a space where those of us who never felt completely at home among the trve kvltists at Deathfest or true metal warriors at Hell’s Heroes can be ourselves and celebrate the bands we love.
I never attended any of the early Deathfests, but Prepare The Ground’s intimacy feels like what I imagine those events to have been. The street isn’t crawling with metalheads, but if you go to the right dive at the right time, you will see something magical. Toronto is a world-class city and the perfect place for a fest like this to occur. With lineups as deadly as this year’s and audiences equally as open-minded, I hope Prepare The Ground will continue to grow in its coming iterations.
