26th Rock am Ring
June 6, 2011
Rock festival ritual: bands pass the mic on three stages, heavy metallers forge a circle pit in the crowd, softies demand a show of hands, and electric rockers ask every thirty seconds whether they can be heard. On the bleachers people complain about the view, on the ground they gripe about the bleachers because they stand in the way of the rest room or the beer stand.
Then, the weather: melting in the sun on the concrete or drowning in a waterfall-scale deluge. "Rock on the Ring" in its 26th year: 26 times three days on that famed turf, the old Nürburgring race track in the Eifel Mountains.
If it were any different, nobody would come
Camping neck-deep in the mud is a communal experience. So's listening to Coldplay in the rain, or dancing the pogo to the band “Bring Me The Horizon.” Will we be back next year? Wouldn't miss it.
People tell stories about this festival like they would about their time in the army. A horrific time, but wonderful. Eighty percent of the festival experience is waiting in the line to the porta-potty, looking for the tent, squeezed by the masses in wet clothes and waiting for your friend to come back with the beer. But the remaining twenty percent are pure magic.
"I still remember the first time I came to this city of rock ten years ago," recalls Conny Schiffbauer, music journalist and festival fan. "I was completely overwhelmed. Here you see people wearing Motörhead t-shirts and girls crying while they listen to Hurts. It's a wider spectrum than at most other festivals."
The feminine touch
In advance, Rock am Ring 2011 was criticized for having the weakest lineup of all times. Die Söhne Mannheims, Coldplay and Hurts were criticized as too soft.
André Lieberberg, son of the legendary organizer Marek Lieberberg, may have perceived a trend, however: for the first time, female visitors were seemingly in the majority.
"This is my fifteenth year here," said a woman named Gabi from the nearby town of Adenau. "Every year I try to see more and more bands. My personal record is having watched 27 from beginning to end." A logistical feat, with the three stages hundreds of meters apart and access blocked by thousands of festival-goers.
Despite the archetypical behavior of the male attendees - drinking, drinking and more drinking - it's most of all the women who look forward to the trip to the Ring months in advance.
"Just go to the right bands," said Conny Schiffbauer, "and you'll find the girls in the front row, hard-core rocking. Then, at four in the morning, they drag their completely inebriated boyfriends back to the campsite."
They only want to party
This year 40 percent of the tickets were sold before the lineup was announced. Rock am Ring is an event, a mardi gras for people who dislike mardi gras: partying with the greatest bands on the planet for three days and doing things your mother always warned you about.
The event remains fairly uneventful nonetheless, a credit to festival security, which quietly dispatches with any disruptive elements the fans may bring along. Rock am Ring icon Marek Lieberberg is proud of the "mother of all German festivals." At his farewell speech, he waxed enthusiastic, noting that with nearly 85,000 visitors, the Ring was not sold out, but nearly.
Lieberberg concluded his speech by pulling a rabbit out of the hat. Next year, Die Toten Hosen will celebrate their thirtieth anniversary at Rock am Ring. The vintage punkers from Düsseldorf welcomed the opportunity to bear the good tidings themselves.
"It'll be a huge fest," grinned front man Campino. "For the birthday bash, you need the perfect situation: a fabulous audience, tolerant neighbors, the ideal location. We've got it all here at Rock am Ring. You can really let loose. If somebody throws up on the carpet here, it's no big deal."
In 2012, it will doubtless be just like it's always been. Eighty thousand people, three stages, bands passing the mic, and Die Toten Hosen calling for a show of hands between the songs, voices raised in complaint about the bleachers – more female voices this time.
Author: Uli José Anders
Editor: Rick Fulker