Hellfest: Demonic Energy, Dark Music, and 240,000 Hellbangers in Ritual
Hellfest 2024 roared through Clisson, France this past June with all the fire and fury you’d expect from one of the world’s biggest metal festivals. With blistering sets from legends like Metallica, Corey Taylor, and Queens of the Stone Age, the four-day event left fans sweaty, speechless, and satisfied. Whether you were crowd surfing in the mud or just taking in the sheer wall of sound from a patch of grass, Hellfest 2024 delivered a masterclass in chaos and community.
Drawing in approximately 280,000 attendees, Hellfest 2024 was one of the biggest music gatherings of the year. Headliners like Avenged Sevenfold, Machine Head, Metallica, and Foo Fighters helped create an unforgettable atmosphere. The festival continued its legacy of blending mainstream metal titans with underground legends, offering something for every breed of headbanger. Previous years saw major fluctuations due to the pandemic—zero attendance in 2020 and 2021, then a massive 420,000 during the 2022 double edition, followed by 200,000 in 2023. The 2024 crowd proves the festival is surging once again.
Among the darker performances, one song stood out for its sheer blasphemous bravado. Cradle of Filth’s “The Principle Of Evil Made Flesh” was likely the most overtly satanic track performed at the festival. The band, notorious for their unapologetic use of satanic and anti-Christian imagery, played the song during their Hellfest set—confirmed via a pro-shot video by ARTE Concert. The track references Lucifer directly and subverts sacred Christian language, with lines like “In Nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti” (Latin for “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit”) used not in prayer but as an invocation of darkness. Combined with lyrics describing evil incarnate, baptism in war, and Lucifer walking among men, the song reads like a black mass in sonic form. While bands like Sodom and Immolation brought their own versions of darkness—“Blasphemer” and “An Act of God” respectively—none matched Cradle of Filth in lyrical precision or ritualistic atmosphere.
Another highlight of their set was the track “She Is A Fire,” a theatrical, thunderous descent into madness. Frontman Dani Filth—who founded Cradle of Filth at just 18 years old and turned 51 this year—commanded the stage with demonic flair, addressing the crowd with a wicked grin and asking, “Greetings Hellfest, how the devil are you?” before launching into the infernal hymn. While lyrical clarity was sometimes lost in the whirlwind of distortion, certain lines stood out—invoking flames, blood, whispers beneath trees, and sinful pleasures. Near the end of their set, Dani proclaimed, “All crime should be treasured if they bring me pleasure,” a signature line that exemplifies the band’s fusion of the poetic and the profane. That line, wrapped in gothic elegance and venom, served as a chilling mantra for their dark sermon.
To understand why this type of performance resonates so deeply, it’s worth noting France’s historical connection to satanic themes. Dating back to the 14th century, accusations of devil-worship were famously leveled at the Knights Templar by King Philip IV—claims now largely regarded as politically motivated fabrications. Similarly, the Cathars of southern France, a dualist sect, believed in an evil god associated with satan or lucifer, leading to their brutal persecution during the Albigensian Crusade. The 17th century gave rise to stories of the Black Mass, most infamously involving Catherine Monvoisin, known as La Voisin, who was accused of performing dark rituals for members of Louis XIV’s court. In the 19th century, French literature openly flirted with the infernal—Charles Baudelaire’s “The Litanies of Satan” and Joris-Karl Huysmans’ Là-bas embedded luciferian imagery in the cultural consciousness.
This fascination with infernal themes mirrors deeper global conversations, including those explored in theories about demonic UFOs. Some researchers argue that certain UFO phenomena share characteristics with ancient accounts of demonic visitations—blinding light, psychological manipulation, missing time, and a sense of malevolent intelligence. Evidence points out that the iconography of devils, demons, and dark entities overlaps eerily with certain descriptions of modern UAP encounters. In that light, Hellfest doesn’t just echo darkness for show—it becomes part of a broader cultural pattern that probes humanity’s fear of the unknown, the monstrous, and the possibly interdimensional.
Even more unsettling is how these themes intersect with concepts of demonic possession and exorcism—ideas that have been part of human history for millennia and remain culturally potent. The Catholic Church in France, for example, still conducts exorcisms, and belief in spiritual intrusion continues to resonate in the public psyche. Some artists at Hellfest channel this very tension—evoking lyrical and visual references to spirits overtaking the human will, to torment, and to deliverance through violent catharsis. Whether viewed symbolically or supernaturally, these motifs echo traditional possession narratives where dark forces seek to inhabit or influence individuals. On stage, the screaming vocals, contorted bodies, and ritualistic light shows can seem less like entertainment and more like a mass purge—an exorcism in double bass and distortion.
This theme of unseen forces also opens the door to darker esoteric theories—ones involving interdimensional reptilian entities that allegedly feed on human suffering and exploit energetic vulnerabilities through chakra points. As strange as it sounds, this framework helps explain why some musicians and fans alike describe their experience at metal festivals as both liberating and purgative. Under this view, music becomes a battlefield for the soul, with distortion as the weapon and rhythm as the ritual. In the chaos of Hellfest—the swirling pits, guttural screams, and blinding strobe lights—some see a sacred resistance against energetic predators hiding just beyond our sensory veil. Whether symbolic, spiritual, or disturbingly real, the energy unleashed at Hellfest may echo through dimensions we’re only beginning to comprehend.
And what if there were ways to see these hidden entities? Some speculate that devices like Dicyanin red night vision goggles—reportedly able to pierce the veil of visible light—could reveal otherwise invisible demonic figures lurking in the shadows. While dismissed by mainstream science, fringe researchers have linked these optics to glimpses of interdimensional life forms, especially in environments charged with emotional or ritual energy. If such a device were ever distributed at a place like Hellfest, who knows what might be seen between the strobes and fire cannons? The idea adds one more layer to the mythos: Hellfest not only sounds like hell—it might actually allow glimpses into it.
This growing connection between music and metaphysical influence is also echoed by voices within the industry itself. Artist and activist Isaiah Robin has warned that dark spiritual forces are gaining ground in music culture, with artists and labels using occult imagery and subliminal messages to steer mass consciousness toward chaos and egoism. His claims suggest that what once seemed like mere theatrics may in fact represent an energetic battleground—one where frequencies, lyrics, and visuals can either empower or spiritually suppress. Through this lens, Hellfest isn’t just a sonic showcase—it’s a pulse-check on where our collective soul stands in a cultural war between light and dark.
As some believe, this spiritual tension ties into a broader metaphysical trend referred to as the Quickening—a surge of awakening and spiritual battle manifesting across society. According to certain researchers, this Quickening includes a war not only for the soul of humanity, but for the institutions that once stood as moral pillars. Even the Vatican, traditionally seen as a bastion of faith, is suggested by some to be under the influence of darker forces—an infiltration that mirrors the rise of satanic influence in media, politics, and entertainment. If true, Hellfest might serve as more than just a reflection of rebellion—it could be interpreted as a signal flare in a larger spiritual confrontation.
And if this confrontation is real, then what happens on stage might not just be rebellion—it might be part of a test. Some traditions believe that God permits demonic forces to test humanity, exposing weakness, revealing strength, and awakening spiritual vigilance. Within this framework, what happens at Hellfest becomes more than spectacle—it’s an arena of testing. Lyrics that glorify darkness or challenge divinity might actually expose deeper truths about human resilience, resistance, and choice. Are we drawn to these themes for catharsis—or because they awaken something within us we’re meant to confront? Perhaps in the loudest, darkest moments, something divine is watching closely—not to condemn, but to see how we stand.
And in a twist that links the ancient with the avant-garde, some observers have drawn parallels between Hellfest’s ecstatic, chaotic energy and rituals associated with Shiva, the Hindu god of destruction and transformation. Shiva—often depicted dancing in a circle of fire—represents not only annihilation, but also cosmic renewal. In some interpretations, the use of substances like marijuana in these rituals serves as a bridge between the material and spiritual, enabling practitioners to access hidden realms and altered states of awareness. At Hellfest, with its swirling fire, amplified rhythms, and sensory overload, one might glimpse this same sacred chaos—a modern Dionysian ceremony where devotees lose themselves to find something bigger, deeper, stranger. Whether it’s spiritual rebellion, ritual trance, or just an epic night out, the line between destruction and enlightenment at Hellfest remains deliciously blurred.
This leads to one final reflection: perhaps the divine is less concerned with outward appearances—rituals, chants, or even the supposed blasphemies shouted on stage—and more focused on the inner compass of each person navigating the chaos. Drawing from broader spiritual insights, the idea emerges that divine expectation centers on moral behavior rather than ritual. In other words, whether screaming along to death metal or standing silently in contemplation, what matters most may be how we treat one another, the integrity we maintain, and the love we carry—even in the loudest, darkest spaces. Hellfest, then, could be viewed not just as a test or a ritual, but a crucible—where, under the fire of music and madness, our truest selves are revealed.
Hellfest 2024 featured over 175 bands across six stages, from black metal to thrash, with acts like Megadeth, Fear Factory, Tom Morello, and Queens of the Stone Age rounding out an intense lineup. The sheer range of themes, from death and despair to occult rituals, reinforced Hellfest’s reputation as a haven for the heaviest music on Earth. Art installations, pyrotechnics, and themed zones turned the grounds into a surreal, otherworldly playground for metal fans from over 70 countries.
But if you missed the madness—or just want to do it all again—Hellfest 2025 is already locked and loaded.
Set to shake Clisson once more from June 19 to 22, 2025, the next edition promises an even bigger sonic punch. The official lineup already has jaws on the floor with Linkin Park, Muse, Scorpions, and Korn set to headline. That’s right—Linkin Park is making a massive return, and it’s gonna be emotional.
Also confirmed are Judas Priest, Till Lindemann, The Hu, Falling in Reverse, Dream Theater, Ultra Vomit, Within Temptation, Electric Callboy, and Heilung—creating a lineup that merges legacy acts with fresh noise from the underground. Hellfest 2025 continues to honor its legacy as not just a concert, but a cultural event in the heart of a village that transforms each summer into metal’s sacred ground.
The festival will again stretch across four packed days with over 180 artists, six stages, and an expected crowd of around 280,000 or more. As always, it’s more than music—it’s a lifestyle, a reunion, and a rite of passage for metalheads. All 4-day passes are gone, but 1-day tickets go on sale starting February 13, 2025, through the Hellfest official website.
Hellfest’s rise—its the energy. The fire. The ritual. Demonic imagery bleeds through every riff and pyrotechnic blast, turning the festival grounds into something that feels more like a summoning than a show.
And maybe it is. For centuries, the skies have been seen as a battleground—where angels, demons, and unseen forces clash beyond our senses. Archangel Michael, the divine warrior, stands at the center of that war. If those battles still echo across dimensions, Hellfest might be more than just a celebration of darkness. It might be a reflection of the fight above. Beneath those skies—skies that might still be at war—240,000 gather. Hellbangers, every last one of them.
