Full album with all the pictures HERE
Before the real chaos, the official pre‑party on July 2 at Sokolovna Trutnov set the tone with a razor‑sharp grindcore warm‑up. Japanese gore grinders Butcher ABC, Australian duo Meth Leppard, Fecundation from Korea, Odio Social (Brazil), and a slew of local Czech acts like Člověk v Plísni, Death in Your Yard, and Heliodor destroyed stage and sanity alike.
Obscene still refuses corporate contamination—no VIP, no sponsors, just one stage, raw punk ethos, and an international crowd united by sweat, love of extreme music, and radical inclusivity. Consent signage, sober zones, distro swaps, volunteer-run water in the pit: it's anarchist punk ethics in festival form.
The Freak Fest opened with bedlam: garbage-bin races, speed-eating contests, genital piercings live on stage, and yes—the puke-off. Enthusiasts hurling flour and beer onto each other embodied the motto: expect madness, embrace it.
Day 1- Wednesday, July 9
The Battlefield awoke under the Freak Festival, an anarchic celebration of human weirdness that set the tone before BAS ROTTEN rattled the early groove at 13:00. By 14:35, Lady Gaza obliterated any comparisons to “powerviolence novelty,” delivering blasts so precise they felt nuclear. Fecundation, Odio Social, and Urtikaria Anal (with horror-disco goregrind flair) followed in one brutal chain, blending grind, crust, and reggaetón samples into extended madness. !T.O.O.H.!, Butcher ABC, “Overthrust” and Defeated Sanity ratcheted up the pace, culminating in BAT (Ryan Waste’s punk-metal assault) at 19:35—tight, sweaty, raw—before Rot, Discharge, and Godflesh turned the crowd into submission with blistering punk and industrial riffs. Gudon closed the night like a final nightmare.
The day began at 10:00 sharp with Deadroots, a thrash grenade, followed by Capsaicin Stitch Rupture and Days of Desolation—all building early pressure. At 11:30, Human Obliteration shattered the field with full-speed aggression. Afternoon wreckers HIV and Perversity dug deep into death metal and crust territory. Brutal Sphincter’s toilet-humor slam at 16:15 was bizarre and precise, launching right into the ritualistic dismemberment of Disfigured Corpse. Disharmonic Orchestra spiraled into avant-death territory before Verbal Abuse, Massacre, and Blood Duster delivered pummeling classic sets. Misery Index closed the main night slot with militaristic precision at 22:30, and just after midnight Schizophrenia (Belgium) exploded with youthful thrash fury—a surprise highlight spoken of in hushed, reverent tones.
A fresh wave started with SLUG Gore at 10:00, a cinematic shock wave that woke even the hungriest heads. One Day in Fukushima followed with razor-sharp Japanese grit. At 11:00, I Scream Protest! opened with righteous legacy energy. The pace kept accelerating through Beaten to Death, Kontusion, and Caedere, before the punk-metal speed injection from Meth Leppard at 13:15. Massgrav brought melodic assault at 15:50, followed by Finnish filth from Cadaveric Incubator and the punishing grind of Sublime Cadaveric Decomposition. Vitamin X, God Dethroned, The Varukers, and General Surgery delivered history lessons in violence. At 23:15, Exumer revived classic thrash in no-nonsense style, and midnight belonged to Fulci, whose gore-grind ritual practically exhaled blood. Antichrist Siege Machine and Larvae brought the night to a bloody close.
No rest. Ludra took the early slot at 10:30, replacing Rectal Smegma, and instantly sealed respect with raw Serbian grind. Followed by relentless velocity from Defy the Curse, Public Execution, Barren, Vile Species, My Minds Mine, and Tools of the Trade. At 17:10, Party Cannon detonated the hill with absurdist theatrics—the surfboards, balloons, infeasible energy. By 17:50, Japanische Kampfhörspiele offered chaos with philosophical precision. Inhumate then delivered their final OEF set—emotional collapse and sonic annihilation mixed into a farewell of blood and tears. Nighttime closed out heavy: Undergang, Cephalic Carnage, Severe Torture, Darkness, and finally, Schizo closed the battlefield with uncompromising Polish brutality. The after-party that should have closed the night died silent in disappointment.
Through each point, bands built heat, tension and release—every set feeding into the next with no let-up. From early powerviolence to slam-infused shockwaves, from avant-garde misdirection to thrash classics, this running order wasn’t just timing—it was a meticulously curated musical execution.
Vegan cuisine was once again stellar: Czech seitan goulash, cruelty-free hotdogs, Thai curry and chocolate cake. Meals stayed under ~6 €. The beer remained cheap compared to other festivals (~3€ per pint), plus non-alcoholic and gluten-free options. The reusable-cup system cut trash and kept lines moving.
Camping turned into a DIY utopia: communal kitchens, flags from every continent, distro tables, impromptu acoustic sets at sunrise. Early arrivals dominated prime slope-side turf next to the stage. Showers and toilets remained grim, but no one cared—because music shipping body and soul was worth it.
Normally, this is the part where the review bursts into technicolor chaos—where we talk about late‑night parties, and fans moshing with inflatable unicorns.
To everyone’s dismay, the legendary Saturday after‑party was cancelled. Why? Because a bunch of selfish idiots the night before decided to trash the benches and tables—breaking what wasn’t theirs, destroying the communal area that hundreds rely on to sit, eat, talk and recover between bands.
So instead of ending the festival dancing together in foam, beer, and confetti as is tradition, we ended it with silence, confusion, and bitter disappointment. There were no unicorn shirts flying off the merch table at 3 a.m., no strangers becoming best friends in the sweatbox of the tent, no final cathartic release to close out the week of grind. Just people slowly realizing that the fun had been stolen from them by a few disrespectful hands.
It was a heartbreaking moment—not just because we lost the party, but because it shook the foundation of mutual respect that Obscene Extreme is built on.
Let’s be very clear: this isn’t who we are. The OEF community is international, weird, loving, and wild—but never destructive.
If we want this fest to keep being the utopia it is, we have to protect it. From outsiders, from idiots, and sometimes from ourselves.
Here’s hoping Curby and the crew get the support—and respect—they deserve next year. Because this festival gives us everything. The least we can do is not break it.
Another absolutely amazing festival, shared in the best possible company — where every moment felt alive, every riff hit like a heartbeat, and the community was the true headliner. Obscene Extreme 2025 proved once again that this isn’t just a festival, it’s a family.
The lineup hit all corners of extreme: slam, grind, gore, thrash, death and powerviolence. Production was seamless; energy ran non-stop; the Freak Fest was even more literal with its name.
This edition reaffirmed what many have said: Obscene Extreme is not just a festival, it is a living manifesto of underground resistance and community-driven chaos. If you thought the spectacle and insanity peaked at 25 years, 2025 came in like a grenade to prove otherwise.
A huge thanks to Čurby and the entire Obscene Extreme crew — truly the best team in the underground festival scene. Their passion, dedication, and infectious energy create an unforgettable experience year after year. From flawless organization to genuine care for every single attendee and band, they make Obscene Extreme not just a festival, but a family reunion for extreme music lovers worldwide. Without them, none of this madness and magic would be possible. Respect and gratitude for keeping the spirit alive!
See you at the battlefield in 2026!
