Welcome! You have somehow managed to survive the read-through of the very first day ever of Ankea Festival. It was a lengthy one, I’ll admit that, but be warned: day two might be even longer. Consider this your soft re-entry. Anyway, if you’re only here for the second-day vibes, let me set the scene a little.
Ankea Festival is a brand-new progressive music festival hosted in one of Europe’s most vibing cities: Tampere. With bands like LEPROUS, KATATONIA, TEXTURES, IHLO, GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT, IHSAHN, and many more, it already looked like a very promising gathering for progheads alike. The second day of this new haven for progressive music took place on June 6th, 2026.
Now, I’ll fully admit something. As much as I thought the first day of the festival was a complete success, a lot of the bands on that bill (with the notable exceptions of EARTHSIDE, IHSAHN, and LEPROUS) aren’t necessarily the ones I gravitate toward at home. In many cases, they’re the kind of acts I genuinely believe work best in a live setting rather than on record. So I went into day one stepping into a fair bit of unfamiliar territory.
Day two, however, was a completely different story. This was a lineup filled with bands I’ve been listening to consistently for the past year or more; music I know inside out, or at least thought I did. So naturally, expectations were higher. Which made it all the more unfortunate that the weather seemed to have decided it was going to throw a temper tantrum.
Day two arrived with rain that felt like it also wanted to take part in the festival experience. If anything, it seemed to have developed its own melancholic arc in response to the music. On top of that, while the festival was otherwise very well organized, it did feel like it hadn’t fully accounted for sustained heavy rain. There were some sheltered areas, but not quite enough for everyone to comfortably escape into, at least not without attempting to merge into the merch tent like a very damp and steamy group project. But more on the rain later. It will, unfortunately, return.
I was very determined to make it in time for ROYAL SORROW. So determined, in fact, that I swear if I hadn’t made it, I would have thrown a full-on temper tantrum like a spoiled child who didn’t get the toy they had been begging their parents for at Christmas. And yes, I stand by that statement. Unfortunately, the drive from Helsinki to Tampere turned into a slow-motion weather true crime documentary around Hämeenlinna, with so much rain that the visibility dropped so far that the road ahead occasionally felt dangerous.
We arrived roughly seven minutes before ROYAL SORROW were due to start. Normally, I try to take things easy when carrying a full and heavy camera backpack, but this was not one of those moments. Add in a slightly bad foot (plantar fasciitis, for those keeping track of ongoing festival-related physical damage), and it turned into an unexpectedly intense moment of cardio.
Naturally, ROYAL SORROW also decided to start one minute early, which didn’t help. I made it into the photo pit during the first song thankfully, slightly out of breath, dishevelled, and questioning my life choices, but very much glad to be there. A decent crowd had already gathered, and I even spotted a few familiar artists in attendance—including members of IHLO, which immediately triggered the thought: how has a ROYAL SORROW × IHLO tour not happened yet? The first time I saw IHLO, I made a comment about who of my booking agent friends I need to force to make them come to Finland (if you want proof, here’s a link to that report), and somehow I ended up manifesting an entire prog festival with them on the lineup, so I’m putting this out in the universe and—come 2027, when they announce their joint tour—you can thank me.
I’ve been following ROYAL SORROW since before they were even ROYAL SORROW, so it’s been fun to see their growth. Their debut album, “Innerdeeps,” is genuinely excellent; catchy, emotionally sharp, and dangerously easy to have permanently lodged in your head. “Release Your Shadow” in particular has a way of resurfacing at the worst possible moments. If you’ve ever heard me randomly sing the chorus in public, I apologize.
Despite still being a relatively young band under this name, they perform with the confidence of seasoned professionals. The set naturally leaned heavily on “Innerdeeps,” while also including a new track that I feel like I need to spin more times to fully grasp, but certainly left a strong enough impression to warrant attention. If anything, the only real downside was placement. They absolutely deserved a later slot on the main stage, because the performance itself was more than strong enough to justify it.
One thing, however, did leave me slightly suspicious of the lovely people working at front of house and behind the lighting and visuals. Ever since EARTHSIDE‘s sound engineer Rickrolled an unsuspecting festival crowd, I’ve not been entirely convinced that everyone involved in production can be fully trusted anymore. During ROYAL SORROW‘s set, the projection screen suddenly did something very odd. Instead of displaying the band’s visuals, it briefly showed what can only be described as a postcard-perfect tropical island: palm trees, bright sunshine, blue skies, and a sandy beach. In other words, the complete opposite of the weather we had been enduring for most of the day.
For a brief moment, I genuinely wondered whether EARTHSIDE‘s mischievous sound engineer had somehow returned for an encore performance. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—we may never know the truth. My best guess is that this was the work of another production crew member who, judging by the timing, may have missed their true calling as a stand-up comedian. Either way, whether it was a joke or not, it certainly landed. And honestly, after spending the day under grey skies, I think a lot of us appreciated the reminder that sunshine theoretically exists.
On a more practical note, I was also glad this festival format allowed for relatively easy movement between stages without the usual chaos of mass crowd exodus. I was told attendance was estimated around 2,000–2,500 people per day, which honestly surprised me in a good way because it never felt overcrowded, just comfortably busy. And that matters more than people sometimes admit.
There was also a noticeable effort toward accessibility and inclusivity: ramps where needed, thoughtful stage placement, and generally enough space that moving through the site never felt like a struggle, even during busier sets. For a first edition festival, that’s not something to take for granted, and I sincerely hope they keep it up! Round of applause for that, honestly.
Next up was RIOGHAN. Before I get into the performance itself, I should probably mention that this is a band we’ve covered quite a bit on the website over the years, and several members of our staff are big fans. Musically, it’s not hard to understand why. The songs are strong, the band is talented, and they also have Vikram Shankar involved in their album, “Kept.” At this point, the man feels a bit like the Midas of progressive metal: he touches something, and it immediately turns to gold. I genuinely mean that.
The production value of the show was also impressive, especially for a band at this stage of their career. There were custom microphone stands, elaborate lighting, theatrical elements, and even a choreographer who performed alongside the band. It was clear that a significant amount of effort and budget had gone into creating a complete audiovisual experience rather than simply putting musicians on a stage. And this is where I found myself somewhat conflicted.
Because while the show looked impressive, the songs were good, and the band itself played tightly, I felt that the vocals occasionally struggled to keep up with everything else happening on stage. Throughout the set, there were moments where notes didn’t quite land or where the pitch felt less stable than it should have been. Not constantly, and certainly not enough to derail the performance, but enough for me to notice.
Now, nobody expects absolute perfection in a live setting. Progressive metal is demanding enough when you’re standing still, let alone when you’re expected to move around the stage, interact with choreography, hit your cues, and remain fully present in the visual side of the performance. Personally, I couldn’t help but wonder whether the show is perhaps asking a little too much from its vocalist at times.
In fact, my criticism isn’t really aimed at the singing itself as much as it is at the overall presentation. There were moments where it felt like the choreography and theatrical elements were competing with the music rather than supporting it. For me, RIOGHAN‘s songs are strong enough to stand on their own merits. I don’t necessarily need the vocalist to be part of a choreographed performance to be convinced of the band’s quality.
That’s perhaps why the occasional vocal inconsistencies stood out so much. The foundation is clearly there. The songs are there. The musicianship is there. The ambition is definitely there. I just came away feeling that a little more focus on the music and a little less on the aesthetics could actually elevate the performance even further.
That being said, it’s worth mentioning that I seem to really be in the minority here. I’ve seen plenty of people absolutely rave about this show, and judging by the audience reaction, many festival-goers had a fantastic time. So take this as one person’s perspective rather than a definitive verdict. If anything, it comes from a place of wanting to see a promising band reach the next level, because all the ingredients are already there, and I’m honestly really looking forward to seeing this band grow and go places!
Next up on the schedule was Bruce Soord, vocalist of THE PINEAPPLE THIEF, who recently released his latest solo album, “Ghosts in the Park.” Accompanying him was friend and fellow THE PINEAPPLE THIEF member Jon Sykes. Early on, Bruce explained that the duo would be performing a mixture of solo material and songs from their main band’s catalogue.
It was actually quite refreshing to have an acoustic performance on the bill. After a rather heavy start to the day, the set provided a welcome opportunity to slow things down for a moment. There was something very relaxed about the atmosphere, and it worked surprisingly well within the festival setting. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to catch the entire performance because I had an interview scheduled at the same time. What I did see, however, showcased some genuinely excellent musicianship. The use of looping technology can sometimes be risky, as you can hear mistakes being played over and over again, but here it came across as natural, organic, and authentic.
And if you happened to miss Bruce‘s appearance at Ankea, don’t worry, you’ll have another chance soon, as THE PINEAPPLE THIEF will be returning to Finland as part of the CoolHead Live concert series in Helsinki.
Next up was a moment I had been eagerly waiting for: IHLO. The prog outfit from the United Kingdom released an excellent sophomore album, “Legacy,” and my first encounter with them happened at Euroblast. Now, if you asked the band, Euroblast 2025 would probably be a very strange place to discover IHLO, considering their set was plagued by technical issues. But somehow, despite all of that, the vibes were vibing, and I was mega impressed. Maybe it was, in fact, the greatest scam of the century. Whatever the reason, “Legacy” ended up becoming one of my favorite albums of 2025.
The appeal of IHLO isn’t just the music itself, though, and stellar compositions. Apart from their impressive musicianship and despite technical hiccups, playing tight and solid sets, their live show is genuinely entertaining. Vocalist Andy Robison has a habit of chatting between songs with very little apparent filtering between brain and microphone, and somehow that makes everything more of a cool affair. It’s spontaneous, funny, and refreshingly human. More than once during the set, I found myself laughing at something he’d said.
At one point, he seemed genuinely concerned about whether he was pronouncing “Tampere” correctly. In all fairness, however, he probably should have been more concerned about the number of Finns who appear to pronounce IHLO as “iglo.” Andy also attempted to introduce the concept of a “Wall of Democracy” several times, asking the audience questions and encouraging people to physically divide themselves based on their answers. Sadly, the crowd never quite committed to the bit. Which is a shame, because I was fully prepared to witness what might have been the first-ever Wall of Democracy that somehow evolved into a Wall of Death at an IHLO show. Progressive metal truly contains endless possibilities.
Musically, the band sounded excellent. Having seen them twice before, I noticed one notable difference: Andy wasn’t handling keyboards this time around. Instead, the electronic and keyboard elements were played through backing tracks. Even so, everything ran remarkably smoothly, with only one minor mishap throughout the entire performance; what a redemption arc! The set featured material from both of their albums and felt like another strong step forward for a band that seems to be steadily building a loyal following in Finland. Ever since their tour with LEPROUS, I’ve noticed IHLO shirts appearing at prog events all over the country, which is probably the strongest evidence possible that Finns have fully embraced their particular brand of beautifully melancholic prog.
Perhaps the most impressive achievement of all, however, involved the weather. Forecasts had predicted heavy rain during their set, and yet somehow it never truly materialized. In fact, at one point, I swear I even spotted one blue streak of sky emerging next to the stage. Whether this was luck, coincidence, or some previously undiscovered prog metal weather manipulation technology the band unleashed remains unclear. But if IHLO have somehow figured out how to control Finnish weather, they may have a far brighter future ahead of them than anyone expected.
Next up was VERMILIA, a name that by now has become a familiar sight for us. We’ve seen her perform several times over the years, and one thing remains consistently true: VERMILIA always delivers a solid show. Looking at the schedule on paper, her placement was perhaps one of the more unusual choices of the day. Surrounded by a lineup heavily dominated by progressive music, her folk-infused sound felt like it might stick out. Yet somehow, it worked remarkably well. Maybe that’s the beauty of festivals like Ankea: genres become less important than atmosphere, and VERMILIA certainly brought plenty of that. The set was elegant, engaging, and exactly as reliable as I’ve come to expect.
That said, by this point, I was facing a far more immediate challenge than genre classification. I was hungry. To make matters worse, the rain had decided to stop threatening and actually start falling, so I took that as my cue to seek shelter and food simultaneously. This time I headed for the Mexican food vendor and ordered an al pastor quesadilla. Now, having accumulated a suspiciously large number of Mexican friends over the years—and being a huge fan of Mexican cuisine myself—I’ve learned to approach “Mexican food” in Finland with cautious optimism. More often than not, it tends to drift somewhere into the realm of Tex-Mex, occasionally taking a scenic detour through Nordic ingredients that would probably confuse everyone involved and have outraged said Mexican friends ever since. To the vendor’s credit, this was not one of those cases.
From what I could tell, the flavors were actually quite faithful to what an al pastor-inspired dish is supposed to taste like, and the result was genuinely delicious. The quality of the food throughout the festival continued to impress me. The only sticking point, once again, was the portion size. At around €15, the quesadilla wasn’t outrageously expensive by festival standards, but it also wasn’t exactly the kind of serving that leaves you contemplating whether you should skip your next meal. I swear, it wouldn’t kill anyone to offer slightly larger portions for the same price. In fact, if my long-forgotten economics classes taught me anything, it’s that happier and less hungry customers might even buy more food in the long run. Then again, perhaps that’s why I’m writing festival reviews and not running a food business.
Also, I know it’s a very Belgian thing of me to say, but would you expect any less? I found myself craving a waffle at some point. Just something sweet to soothe the sweet tooth, and there was nothing to be found. I do think that would be a strong addition to the festival lineup. Does the iconic Vohvelikahvila in Tampere have a food truck? If not, I might just be handing out business ideas here.
After VERMILIA‘s set, it was time for another personal highlight of the weekend: GREEN CARNATION. The Norwegian band returned to active duty a few years ago and has since been quietly reminding the world why they remain such a respected name within progressive and atmospheric metal circles. Their latest body of work is built around a trilogy, of which two chapters have already been released.
Now, I happen to know a thing or two about trilogies. After all, The Lord of the Rings remains one of my favourite works of fiction ever created in both movie and books, and if that taught me anything, it’s that sometimes the best stories really do come in three parts. Based on what we’ve heard so far, GREEN CARNATION seem determined to prove that rule applies equally well to music. “A Dark Poem” is an exceptional release and only increased my anticipation for the trilogy’s conclusion.
Oddly enough, before Ankea, I was convinced I had already seen GREEN CARNATION live. I even had a vague memory of catching them at Graspop Metal Meeting last year. As it turns out, either I was experiencing some sort of festival-induced hallucination, or I had completely mixed them up with another band, because GREEN CARNATION did not, in fact, play Graspop that year. So despite believing otherwise, this was actually my first time seeing them live.
The band delivered a fantastic performance, effortlessly weaving together progressive metal, atmospheric passages, and emotional depth into something that felt both grand and intimate at the same time. It was one of those sets where you stop taking mental notes after a while and simply enjoy being there.
It’s also worth mentioning that if you’re a fan of GREEN CARNATION, you should absolutely check out the interview I conducted with the band after their performance once it gets published. Fair warning, however: if you’re expecting a deep dive into the new album, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. In fact, I’m still not entirely sure what happened. At some point, the conversation took on a life of its own, wandered off into the Norwegian wilderness, and never really found its way back. The result was a delightfully unhinged interview that somehow became one of my favourite moments of the entire festival.
As in life, festivals also come with their ups and downs. If I had to point to a low moment during the weekend, it would probably be during A.A. Williams‘ set—and, somewhat unfairly, very little of that had to do with A.A. Williams herself. In fact, the moment the performance began, the heavens seemingly decided to open with malicious intent. What followed was easily the heaviest downpour of the entire festival. To her credit, A.A. Williams appeared genuinely delighted by the weather. Unfortunately, my relationship with the rain was considerably less positive.
Between the torrential downpour, the smoke drifting from the stage, and the humid wall of air that formed as a result, there came a moment where I simply thought: that’s it. I’ve had enough. Nature wins this round. As a result, I may have cut my time in the photo pit a little shorter than usual.
The frustrating thing is that it wasn’t because of the performance itself. Quite the opposite, actually. Everything I heard suggested that A.A. Williams delivered exactly the kind of atmospheric and emotionally rich performance that I would normally love. But sometimes circumstances matter. Had this show taken place inside a tent or a theatre, I suspect I would have been completely captivated. Instead, I found myself becoming increasingly distracted by the fact that I was slowly evolving into an amphibian. Honestly, what I really needed at that moment wasn’t a cool-down but a warm-up. Unfortunately, judging by the queue for coffee and tea, I wasn’t the only person who had reached that conclusion. The line was enormous, possibly one of the longest queues I saw all weekend. To make matters worse, every available seat on the festival grounds had already been occupied by people seeking refuge from the weather.
And by that point, my foot had also decided it no longer wished to participate in festival activities. After hours of standing and walking, the plantar fasciitis issue I’d mentioned earlier was making itself known in increasingly creative ways. I was struggling to stay on my feet for extended periods, and after a friend suggested that perhaps I should stop pretending to be indestructible and pay a visit to the Red Cross station, I reluctantly agreed. The staff there must have been slightly confused. I arrived with no visible injury, no dramatic emergency, and, perhaps most suspiciously for a festival environment, I wasn’t drunk. Instead, I sheepishly asked whether I could put some ice on my foot. In hindsight, this wasn’t my greatest idea. The result was a wet sock that accompanied me for the remainder of the evening.
Still, the staff were incredibly helpful. The volunteer who spoke with me took the time to ask what was going on, not in the clinical “I need to fill out a form” kind of way, but in a genuinely interested and conversational manner. He wanted to understand what was happening so they could figure out whether they could help, and along the way we ended up having a surprisingly pleasant chat. Moments like that are also part of the reason why Tampere remains one of my favorite cities. Time and time again, I find myself meeting people there who are simply friendly for the sake of being friendly. It’s almost suspicious at this point. I refuse to believe an entire city can be that nice, and yet somehow Tampere keeps proving me wrong.
I’m glad I decided to hang out for a while with the folks from the Red Cross, because I really needed to be back on my feet for TEXTURES. Since their comeback a few years ago, the Dutch progressive metal band has been doing what they do best: gently educating audiences on whether it, in fact, djents or not. And at Ankea, djent it absolutely did once again.
The first time I saw them was at Graspop Metal Meeting during their comeback year, and I still vividly remember that set. It was an indoor stage with a wooden floor, and the groove was so heavy that the entire floor felt like a bouncing castle. One of those rare festival moments where you physically feel the music moving the space around you. Easily one of the best live experiences you can have.
This time around, TEXTURES might have been the heaviest band on the bill, and they delivered exactly what you’d hope for from that reputation. Vocalist Daniël de Jongh had already impressed me years earlier when he stepped in for another singer with DEAR MOTHER in Finland on very short notice and still managed to absolutely nail the performance. That kind of versatility and control is exactly what makes him such a compelling frontman.
The rest of the band are equally entertaining to watch, fully locked into the groove, headbanging with the kind of intensity that suggests they are also genuinely enjoying every second of it rather than just performing it. Normally, I would have been able to fully sink into a set like this, especially given how long and satisfying it felt compared to some of their shorter (festival) appearances. Unfortunately, I had an overlapping interview scheduled, which meant I ended up missing a significant portion of it. And yes—before anyone asks—that also means I missed “Awake.” How do you even begin to forgive yourself for that?
After my interview detour, I had to make a fairly urgent dash to still catch SYLVAINE. The Norwegian blackgaze project was largely new to me going into the festival. I’d only encountered a couple of her tracks before, mostly through a playlist that had been floating around during a previous tour. She’s one of those artists—much like AMENRA for me—where I deliberately held off on a deeper dive because I wanted the live experience to be my first real introduction. And I’m very glad I did. If anything, it paid off so well that the next day I found myself dealing with a very real case of FOMO and immediately wishing I could see the Helsinki show as well.
SYLVAINE’s performance was not only musically impressive, but also carried a kind of emotional weight that’s difficult to put into words without sounding overly dramatic. Her blend of delicate atmosphere and raw intensity worked beautifully live, and she also stands out as one of the more compelling harsh vocalists in that space. Beyond the music itself, there’s also something very grounded and genuine about her stage presence. She comes across as a sincerely kind and thoughtful person, and that warmth translates into the performance in a way that makes the whole set feel even more immersive. There’s a quiet confidence to it that is genuinely captivating to watch. By the end of the set, I was completely won over.
KATATONIA, apparently, released “The Great Cold Distance” 20 years ago. Time really does have no respect for anyone. It’s an album that has long been held in high regard by fans, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise. I enjoy it too. So it was no surprise that a lot of people were particularly looking forward to this performance, especially given the anniversary framing.
In principle, there isn’t much mystery to a full album show: you play the record from A to Z, you do it well, and you let the material speak for itself. And to be fair, KATATONIA did exactly that. The set sounded great, the band was tight, and it was genuinely nice to see them perform in daylight for once—no hair permanently glued across faces by stage wind, which already counts as a small festival miracle. But there was one detail that had a lot of us quietly doing mental maths.
“The Great Cold Distance” runs for roughly 52 minutes. The scheduled set time, however, was 75 minutes. That usually suggests one of two things: either extended arrangements, or the classic “album + a few greatest hits” bonus round. So when the album concluded with “Journey Through Pressure,” and a strange Irish-goodbye-style track I didn’t recognize began to play from the backing tapes, it felt… unexpected. Then came a message on screen—something along the lines of KATATONIA having just played “The Great Cold Distance” (the exact wording is honestly lost to the shock of the moment).
And that was it. No extra songs, no encore section of fan favorites, no additional curveball. Just the album, finished cleanly, and then… the end. Goodbye. As good as it sounded, and as enjoyable as it was to finally see this record performed in full, the ending still landed a bit on the anticlimactic side. Not bad, not disappointing in execution, just slightly deflating in terms of pacing and expectation. I think part of me would have rather seen a more explosive festival closer from LEPROUS in that slot instead, just to send everything off with a bit more impact. And honestly, while we’re on the subject of KATATONIA wishlists, I would also very much like to see them play through “Last Fair Deal Gone Down” at some point. Pretty please.
The consequence of that timing shift was immediate: ORANSSI PAZUZU ended up starting earlier than planned. Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to catch them. I was still tied up with networking and catching up with friends, and by the time I could realistically move, I was also facing the reality of a two-hour drive back to Helsinki and an already very late hour. At that point, you shouldn’t be surprised to hear I had to prioritize survival over whatever avant-garde music they’re playing. Thankfully, Marco managed to get there in time to snap a few photos before also having to sprint for the last tram to his final destination. A true team effort in logistics, if nothing else. The silver lining is that ORANSSI PAZUZU are also playing a festival I’m attending next week, so I’ll get another chance to experience their full set without distractions and ideally with slightly more energy than I had left at that point.
That concludes our two-day festival report. It was, in every sense, a rollercoaster. On the way to the festival, I received a press release about the second edition of Ankea Festival, and I genuinely audibly gasped when I saw that IGORRR and ALCEST had been added to the bill. At that point, it doesn’t really matter what else is on the lineup—just shut up and take my money.
But looking back at the inaugural edition, the most striking thing is actually how few real negatives there were. The small issues I mentioned throughout these reports are exactly that: small. Nothing that would realistically make you hesitate about buying a ticket next year. The kind of things I’d classify as “festival growing pains” rather than actual problems—what we’d call, in Flemish, kinderziektes: little childhood ailments that are easily fixed by the time the next edition rolls around.
And that’s really the takeaway here. For a first edition, Ankea Festival felt remarkably well put together. The foundations are clearly strong, and the potential is even stronger. If anything, it already feels like a festival that knows what it wants to be.
So mark my words: next year’s Ankea Festival is going to be a wild ride, and I’m already looking forward to being part of it again—assuming, of course, that my level of sass in these reports doesn’t get me quietly uninvited from future editions. On the other hand, I’d like to think I offer something valuable: authentic, unfiltered, but still fair and respectful coverage. You will never hear me say something was “shit,” but if something doesn’t work, I’m not going to pretend it did either.
On that note, I’ll leave it here: Ankea Festival was a fantastic start to the festival summer. It’s going to be hard to top an experience that strong with so few real complaints, but I’m very much looking forward to seeing what comes next. Bring it on.
Writen by Laureline Tilkin
Photos by Laureline Tilkin & Marco Manzi
