Day three usually makes you summon God through your “Oh God’s” when getting out of bed in the morning. We all felt it in our bones, in our muscles and in our heads at this point. The luxury of a three-dayer in the city is that you can sleep in a comfy bed and wash away your sins easily each day with a cold shower. 2025 Desertfest was so far a truly unforgettable experience for many, and day 3 was about to cement that year. We do believe many will remember it as one of the better line-ups served by the organisers. I think also one of the sweatiest due to Underworld’s den of the death, caused by the faintly working AC, which only added to the experience every time you left its heat, soaking wet from sweat and maybe even tears of joy? Let’s hope someone felt it. The event ran smoothly all weekend, with nobody being turned away at the door in any of the larger venues. Black Heart as always was always packed, but that’s just the reality of the smaller spaces. MJB was back in its full team with our photographer Nick trying to nail mine and Rux’s busy schedule, and sometimes even be in two places at the same time. We welcome you to the Day 3 recap, packed to the brim with the coolest bands you must listen to if you missed the festival. Nat
If you’ve missed it, check out our coverage of Day 1 and Day 2!
Oldblood
It’s a hard sell for me to start with a black/doom metal band (my bluesy baby ears need some warming up), but Oldblood playing live are as much groove as they are extreme. Vocalists Brendan Coles and Arianna Pinto dueted in growls, while Joey Williams on guitar built an almost post-rock landscape. He pushed the crowd apart like a dark-eyed Moses and the crowd responded in turn, not quite moshing, but primed to move, primed to receive the catharsis. This was the set for you if Sunday was your only festival day and you needed a fast forward through all the genres this edition has presented. Rux
Khan
Khan is a long way from home, but this Australian band is no stranger to European crowds—and for that, we are grateful. Their sound is insanely beautiful: delicate at times, with powerful and chunky riffs woven throughout. I discovered them in 2023 at the Dev, where they headlined one of its free-entry music nights. Now, Khan opened up the massive Ballroom stage to a neatly packed crowd. Everyone I spoke to afterwards said how much they loved them. I wasn’t surprised—how could you not enjoy their progressive, heavy psych and stoner blend? It’s the kind of music that makes you close your eyes; it feels like a warm hug. It surrounds you from all directions, swaddling you in the most delicious of ways. It feels like falling in love, like summer drives to the coast, like beautiful views from a mountain. You get the picture. I hope Khan keeps growing—and maybe next year, they’ll be back to headline? They’ve got it in them; it’s just a matter of time. Nat
Bobbie Dazzle
There is a pun in there I refuse to make, but Bobbie Dazzle truly sparkled in the dark depths of the Underworld. A strong contender for best vocalist of this Desertfest edition, her music hails back to larger-than-life Americana, of the likes of Dolly Parton and Shania Twain, in not just singing style, but also song structure. With plenty of room for her band to showcase their skills and for Bobbie herself to whip out a flute on Merry-Go-Round (always a fun surprise to hear a different instrument in such a guitar-heavy context!) the crowd stuck around for the whole set, enjoying the palate cleanser of this particular brand of rock’n’roll. Rux
Yur Mum
This Brazilian-made, London-based duo heated up the Black Heart crowd to the max. Intensely grateful to the Desertfest organisers for giving them their well-deserved spot (it was a no-brainer to book them), we were rewarded with their almost punk-like energy that snuck into their heavy version of desert rock—grungy, chunky, and bass-heavy. Vocalist Anelise Kunz gave us serious, fearless Debbie Harry-like energy, echoing through a distorted wall of sound. Many danced up front, feeling the rhythms with their whole bodies. It’s wild how much noise two people can make. I low-key wanted them to be my mum too. Can you please adopt me? Nat
Mr. Bison
A Desertfest classic, Mr. Bison is distilled stoner rock passed through a progressive sieve. They are a perfect band to introduce an unsuspecting listener to the genre, with their sparse lyrics and cosmic conjurings. At times invoking the desperation of Dark Side of the Moon, theirs is a patient sound, allowing themselves the time to build immense tension, like a series of question marks, denser and denser until finally, you get your answer. Songs like I’m the Storm are made extra tasty by the addition of slide guitar, but there is nothing flashy – if anything, the collaboration of the Italian quartet feels effortless, inevitable. It’s music to be experienced live, to imagine or to go quiet to. Rux
Dunbarrow
The 70s homages throughout the festival have not been many, but obvious enough to signal a pattern. Much of the doom we hear in doom metal these days was built back then, in that experimental era when technology was allowing looping, layering and sound effects previously unimaginable. Norway’s Dunbarrow stuck to the darkness, while not descending into the black metal their country is famous for – they had a tambourine, after all! Three albums in, their style is an often-upbeat swinging groove, while their lyrics remain as hopeless and morbid as their name evokes. Rux
Divide and Dissolve
Divide and Dissolve’s new album Insatiable was one of my favourite releases, so naturally I had to wander back to the Electric Ballroom to catch their set. It’s definitely not music for the faint-hearted—and to my joyous surprise, the room was packed. What we got was drone at its finest: slow, prolonged bass notes cranked to the max on every amp. For the drummer, it’s a real test to keep up with such slow tempos and maintain the energy, almost as if you’re on an invisible leash. That heavy sound merged with classic doom riffs, and what a treat it was to hear the album performed live, including its distorted soprano saxophone, layering haunting tones over and over until you’re in a state of hypnotic, ominous fear—frozen in motion, unable to move. For the entire hour, I felt like an ancient tree, rooted firmly in the ground during an earthquake caused by the powerful bass vibrations. The Guinness I was holding was shaking, as if a giant were walking among us. Heaviest hour of the whole weekend! Nat
Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol
I hesitate to use the term, but it was a very strong first impression: this is a dude band. It cemented the belief that, had I lived in the 80s, I would not have survived a Black Flag gig. The Underworld by now was a sauna and the moshpit looked like hell and that’s exactly how everybody there wanted it. Guitarist Leo Lydon exchanged a wide smile with bassist Aaron Metzdorf and ploughed through 5 songs in 10 minutes to the full-bodied headbanging of everyone clamoring against the stage. So much fun to listen to, especially their chuggy slam of a piece, I’m the Fucking Man, as heavy as anything a metal band could put out and so awesome in its confidence. Rux
Castle Rat
All the best-dressed festival-goers were at Castle Rat’s set at the Underworld. No surprise there—this band has a medieval fantasy aesthetic at its core, but it’s delivered like it was forged in the late 70s and pushed into the 80s with their hard rock and doom sound. The crowd’s obsession was palpable, almost unbearable in that heat. Everyone wanted to be up front—myself included. This was their first ever UK show, but fans knew exactly what was about to go down. Castle Rat brings not just their insanely cool 70s-inspired music, but also a full fantasy story: The Rat Queen battles the evil Rat Reaperess, saving us—her subjects—from wrath and ruin. With help from The Count, The Plague Doctor, and The Druid, we were all saved!
Sword fights and chainmail aside—though some may objectify those aspects—the musical delivery was excellent. Insane guitar solos broke the Queen’s spell, and the dynamic, hypnotic drumming echoed the intensity of the theatrics. Castle Rat is fun, hot, and daring, and by bringing theatre into their performance, they elevate the experience. To my joy, the crowd wasn’t just men drooling—many women were there too, thrilled to see a band fronted by an icon we can all look up to. Nat
Black Willows
Incense burning somewhere hidden, the Dev felt like a place to finally breathe. There is an OM-shaped hole on the live music circuit and that’s exactly the spot Black Willows succeed magnificently in residing. Hailing from Switzerland, their three albums each go deeper and deeper in their exploration of how the psyche travels when music frees the body. Shamanic doom is a severely underrepresented genre, precisely because it can so easily descend into superficiality. Black Willows show how to do it right, with just the right amount of restraint and release, the riffs as heavy as a hand dunking your head underwater, the quiet moments in-between teaching you how to breathe anew. Rux
Calligram
Some might argue this was a graveyard shift slot, running parallel to Earth’s set, which drew many people—but absolutely not. Calligram played to a nicely packed Black Heart and delivered a set filled with intense, hanging energy. Looking around, I saw many familiar faces—people who work in iconic metal venues, members of various bands, fellow writers. This was a family gathering. The insider show.
Calligram is a regular name on many lineups in the capital. They’re not for the faint-hearted, dabbling heavily in black metal, post-metal, post-grindcore, and more abrasive influences. Every part of their songs is harsh—the vocals harrowing, piercing through like a thousand needles. Just how I like my metal: intense. The drumming is chaotic and fast-paced—shout out to my friend Ardo Cotones, fresh off a brutal tour and still powering through with insane energy. They radiated triple-espresso energy levels, exactly what I needed to carry me into the Dopelord closing set at the Underworld. To echo the words of Dale Cooper: once a day, give yourself a present. This was mine. Nat
Earth
Mighty is the right word for them. Mesmerizing too. Watching them is half the experience with the Seattle pioneers of drone metal. Dylan Carlson on guitar was unperturbable, letting each note hang in the air, easing into gentle explorations of the chord space created. Drummer Adrienne Davies, her movements slow like she was swimming in a dream river of molasses, kept a grip on the tempo as soft and unyielding as oak tree roots. A lesser band would have chickened out, would have cut themselves short, would have added shredding or complicated chord progressions or smashing solos to give their public something to bite into. But the Earth isn’t complicated – it just is. Like their namesake, Earth does not rush. The Earth does not listen to you, you listen to it, and Earth isn’t there to explain to you what to feel – it’s there to let you feel. It’s a landscape, an endless expanse, a harsh rocky desert. What you bring is what you get. Read our whole review here. Rux
Dopelord
These days, the Underworld feels like a mix between a hot sauna and a hot tub—as if you used both at the same time. By the time Dopelord hit the stage, the venue genuinely felt like a wet gym towel. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. It was hot, sweaty, and sticky. With the only source of coolness locked inside the pint in my hand, my friends and I headed down into the fire pit to enjoy the final set of the entire weekend. The last of the revellers were there—organisers, diehards, anyone still left standing after three long days of intense music. Dopelord is truly dope—everyone was excited to see them. I was even more so, being Polish and all; they’re our hottest and biggest doom metal export. The London crowd loves them, devours them like edibles, and gets just as high on their truly satanic blend of psychedelic, chunky riffs. Lyrically, they’re not complex—simple words of blasphemy that even first-timers can chant along to. We were all in the fever dream together, aware that these were the final moments of the festival, determined to make the most of them. Intense dancing blended into crowd-surfing for almost the entire set. Someone even climbed a pillar, took off their shirt, and spun it around like a go-go dancer. The band was in excellent form—song after song proving why they’re the ballers of the genre, and why they were the hottest Underworld headliners of the day. Their riffs, fat with distortion, and the sickest twisting and turning guitar solos made Satan happy. I think he was there—we summoned him almost daily over the weekend. Too many rituals for him to ignore the invitation. Desertfest is a sabbath for the damned, after all. The ending was truly heartbreaking for some. The last song felt like torture, the final notes played on a guitar held just above our heads, its chords pulled by the fans themselves. The bass was hung up on a hook from the ceiling, just above the stage, swinging like a clock dial—marking the passing of time until the next Desertfest in 2026. A long way to go, but absolutely worth the wait. Nat
It’s been a pleasure covering this event for you all, everyone from the Metal Junkbox team had a great time discovering new favourite bands and sounds and there is more coming. Keep your eyes peeled for our interview with Black Willows and a new episode of our podcast where we chat about Desertfest. See you there and see you next year!