FESTIVAL REVIEW + PHOTOS: Download Festival 2026 – Friday

You don’t need to be especially perceptive to notice how much Download has changed in recent years. It’s still the event in British rock’s festival calendar, but post-pandemic especially, the holdovers of the old Monsters Of Rock era are fully gone. Apologies to your dad, but you’re not getting Thunder back on the main stage anymore. Further to that, even any perceived ‘rock or die’ mentality is over. Last year, The Vengaboys were one of the big, talked-about bookings; Five played last night; Scooter are headlining a stage this weekend. Even if it is all here ironically, it’s here all the same.

Thus, as a melding of both of those attitudes, Scene Queen is the ideal name to kick things off. Pinked-out and with a take on heavy music that would make purists keel over on sight, Hannah Collins shoulders the current breadth of alternative music. It’s no strain for someone as drenched in onstage charisma as her, though. Even on what’s now the biggest festival stage in the UK, the gaudy fun factor of it all is not diluted even slightly. The whole ‘bimbocore’ shtick still has a lot of runway, clearly, between the fat nu-metal groove of Pink G-String, the girly-pop hooks transposed onto Pink Panther, and the idea that none of this would’ve been within a country mile of the Apex Stage a decade ago. It is now, though, and things are better for it.

---

They’ve already collaborated with A$AP Rocky and hit a status of rap-metal mavericks; now, Slay Squad arrive to level the Dogtooth Stage.

---

Arriving directly after Scene Queen’s opening of alt-metal boundaries, you’d imagine P.O.D. to be the mother of all steps back. It’s not dad-rock fossils that hold the nostalgia chips these days, but these—nu-metal bands that aren’t too relevant at all these days, yet still find main stage slots deigned upon them. That said, Boom as an opener is a good way to plead their case. Apparently they’ve got more in the tank that you’d think, even if that is relegated to decades-old work that leaves the sole recent cut Drop a little…well, flaccid. Otherwise, it’s everything you’d want from a throwback like this. The one guy screaming for Will You between every song may leave a little dismayed, but Southtown, Youth Of The Nation and Alive, back-to-back-to-back, are the foundations of what this should be. Add in some good energy, positive affirmations and the dedication of Alive to guitarist Marcos Curiel’s daughter, born just the night previous, and P.O.D. bring more than enough to get invested in. Believe it or not.

---

James And The Cold Gun bring their riffs and alt-rock riotousness to the Dogtooth Stage.

---

Paleface Swiss are not happy boys today. You can tell from the minute they stroll onstage, no fanfare to welcome arguably one of deathcore’s biggest recent breakthroughs. Between being told they’re not allowed to ask the crowd to mosh and being provided only one meal for the whole day (to quote frontman Zelli: “I’m a sassy little bitch when I’m hungry”), you might even expect less than what they give. And while it’s by no means a top-tier highlight of the weekend, Paleface Swiss do a lot to justify their popularity. Some 3pm pyro for Best Before: Death isn’t common, only serving to bolster how mighty and imperious they can be. Waves of crowd-surfers on Please End Me bring about some similar weight. It’s really solid stuff, overall, even just from the perspective of bone-rattling deathcore that’s relentless for its half-hour. The fans are eating good with this one (even if the band mightn’t be…).

---

Given how nonexistent the cultural exchange is between an English festival crowd and two good ol’ boys from out in the sticks, it’s a wonder that Lakeview are the draw that they are. Neither Jesse Denaro or Luke Healy are impressive singers, either; unless they’re forcing a belt out, they’re swallowed by a mix that renders them more anonymous and interchangeable than their matching outfits. Instead, Lakeview shine in their proof-positive depiction that metalcore and bro-country can be natural bedfellows, especially for a roaring singalong. Wrong Side Of The Track is exactly that, while Money Where Your Mouth Is slots into a really effective bruiser mould, and closer Home Team is about as populist as this all gets. Far from a game-changer, then, but when the appeal hits, it hits hard.

---

“They brought extra security!” yells Sammy Ciaramitaro, a voice permanently shaped by jubilance. “Let’s make ‘em work!” Thus outlines today’s M.O. for Drain’s frontman—to direct the pitting, crowd-surfing masses (frequently from off the stage) as emcee for the ensuing carnage. He probably spends more time barking and bellowing commands than actually leading his band, something which never seems that much of an issue. Cody Chavez’s guitar is next to inaudible, and even that seems rather trivial within one of the most tenacious, fired-up maelstroms in modern hardcore. It’s the sort of show that tends to find its home in basements and dives, not the comparatively cavernous Avalanche stage, but Drain’s second-to-none punk attitude fights its way out there regardless.

---

If there’s a better way to gauge the Download massive’s love of Europop cheese than witnessing Electric Callboy’s crowd stretch as far as the eye can see, it hasn’t been discovered. It’s a headline-calibre turnout, something which will only become more familiar with shows like this. Yes, Electric Callboy are great live; what else is new? But it really should be highlighted just how dense that greatness is, to an almost inescapable degree. They come out all guns blazing with TANZNEID, stuffed to the gills with pop hooks and the crispest of metalcore guitars. From there, slowing down simply isn’t an option. If anything, Electric Callboy’s hour is a demonstration of how cranked-up they can actually get.

It’s at the first costume change for Hypa Hypa—in which frontmen Kevin Ratajczak and Nico Sallach don their finest ‘80s wigs and sportswear—when the garish spectacle is fully what matters most. The choruses practically scream out to be repeated back, but it’s the sheer entertainment value of all this that’s at the highest premium. The band delight at bringing their Schlager song Hurrikan to the hallowed home of British metal, only to have it descend into a dubstep cacophony that’s just as on-brand. The same is true of a nasal, half-pisstake cover of All The Small Things, as emblematic of the Electric Callboy experience as localised flashbangs like Elevator Operator and RATATATA. Perhaps it’s a bit much or ‘not for everyone’, but, like…look at the crowd; clearly it is for everyone. That’s simply impossible to ignore at this point.

---

Looks like Daughtry never got the memo that Download is no longer bound to venerate The Heavy like it once might’ve been. Good on them for trying to sever their American Idol roots once and for all, but they go about it in a rather nondescript way. For one, there’s hardly a bustling crowd at the Opus Stage; for another, the crowd that is here doesn’t seem to invested in sluggish, broody alt-metal that largely all sounds the same. Even if Chris Daughtry’s voice travels well, locked into yearning power-rock mode as it is, it’s just not what this band does best. That comes in glimpses with It’s Not Over and Over You, the latter introduced with “If divorced-dad-rock had an album, this would be track five or six”, the one out-of-nowhere crack to Daughtry’s stone face. To not lean deeper into that communal, Friday evening vibe, loading the setlist with post-grunge ballads they’re known for and going to town, reads as such a missed opportunity. The kicker is Separate Ways (Worlds Apart), their Journey cover that Lzzy Hale doesn’t reprise her role for, despite Halestorm being the very next band to play on this stage. (Daughtry’s lampshading “Lzzy Hale says hi, by the way” goes down like a lead balloon, too.) Josh Paul’s cracked, mirrored bass is pretty cool, though; points for that.

---

If there’s one thing you can unequivocally not fault Cypress Hill for, it’s their effort. A big, pre-Bizkit crowd awaits them, an easy lay-up for one of the hip-hop acts that rock’s oldheads have decided it’s okay to like and keep around. Admittedly, there’s a point where it feels like they’re taking advantage of that, specifically for the set’s first half. How Could I Just Kill A Man and When The Shit Goes Down are heavy hitters to kick off with, sounding great in the sun with added flavour from the live drums…until it starts to feel like the same song being played for about 20 minutes. It doesn’t help that the duo’s vocals can really struggle over distance, especially B-Real’s with how sharp and nasal he can be.

Fortunately, there’s enough sticktoitiveness on display to where it gets pulled back. The rapping gets a little more pronounced and the set begins to shape itself, sprinkling in interpolations of The Next Episode and So What’cha Want with a full drum-and-turntable interlude. A cover of Rage Against The Machine’s Bombtrack signifies more, though. It’s got presence to it—“Dangerous times need dangerous songs,” is its preface—but it’s also a comfort zone for Cypress Hill that’s got some more punch to it. With (Rock) Superstar and everyone’s favourite Insane In The Brain, it’s easily their best switch, if also their most expected one. Nevertheless, a truncated cover of Jump Around to cap off keeps spirits high—that’s Cypress Hill to a T, isn’t it?

---

Outfits adorned, Band-Maid’s sharp J-metal hits the Dogtooth Stage.

---

They’ve been one of the finest live names in hard rock for a long while now, and as Halestorm rip through their headline set on the Opus Stage, that doesn’t seem to have changed.

---

Solemnity is not an emotion that one would associate with Limp Bizkit at the best of times. It’s not one they’re really looking to foster around themselves, either. Headlining a festival like Download doesn’t feel like the place for it, but they aren’t the band for it, either. Thus, in a set that contains a number of tributes to fallen brothers, the air is one of celebration. It’s what starts everything off with the opening screen broadcast onstage—Sam Rivers, their bassist who passed not even a year ago, and Dougie Miller, the band’s friend and truck driver who lost his life en route to the festival. The closest thing to a poignant outreach is Behind Blue Eyes and Fred Durst’s encouragement to “crowd-surf for the loved ones we’ve lost in our lives.” Even if the song is hardly given a core-shaking rendition, the meaning is unmistakable.

But what of Limp Bizkit in their natural state? This is a Download Festival headline set, after all, where their live rubric of ‘ten songs in two hours, with Break Stuff twice’ might not fly. Granted, even that can seem unlikely, given that nu-metal’s reevaluation has given Limp Bizkit an almighty boost in the eyes of anyone dialled into current rock music. It’s why you’ll spot red caps aplenty among Donington’s site for the duration of the weekend (despite the rather ostentatious grey hairpiece that Durst chooses to sport tonight instead). It’s also why this setlist is as ‘play the hits’ as it comes. Lyrics for everything are plastered onstage, as if the party / karaoke feel was planned from the jump. And while literally none of the thousands here need a refresher on how Break Stuff or Rollin’ go, it’s hard to deny that the atmosphere isn’t enhanced.

Musically, they’re as on-point as you could want. It’s always worth remembering how talented the instrumental core of Limp Bizkit, to the point where Durst even shouts out Wes Borland for his guitar skills on Livin’ It Up. At its best for this environment, there’s a heave and a weight that’s all the more impressive for the bounce it inspires. It really is the best of classic nu-metal slugging that hasn’t dulled with age. It’s true all the way through, too; as a late-set cut, Take A Look Around stirs up quite the frenzy. There’s a wave of energy sweeping through everything that Limp Bizkit touch, down to a guest appearance from Lauren Sanderson on Hot Dog and four extremely enthusiastic fans on Full Nelson.

There’s also a bit of that ol’ Limp Bizkit hoke that, admittedly, adds to the charm. Maybe not the AI splash screens (for instance, Jack Nicholson at the barrier of a show with the stage behind him—embarrassing), but in how Durst goes about his role as ringleader. It’s hardly a blockbuster performance he gives as a frontman, but he’s 100% committed to the bit throughout. He’s a man who’s aged out of songs like My Generation or Nookie or the quasi-ironic Faith cover, though he’s still ready to rip them out with total gusto. It’s respectable in a way that doesn’t cloud its fun at all; these are still the nu-metal smashes they were always intended to be. And of course there’s still sincerity at play, in the love for fallen friends that always permeates in the background, and in care for the fans as, after a crowd incident brings My Way to an extended halt, Durst never takes his eyes off the situation once. (Perhaps it can seem a little poor taste to do Break Stuff again when the person in question is carried off on a stretcher, but no one’s to blame for that.)

By the end, it’s not like this is a new peak for Limp Bizkit, but they aren’t just going through the motions, either. If anything, this might be the best place for them in modern rock—the elder statesmen, better off sticking to the classics than trying to extend anew, but are by no means stymied by that. It’s what brings about results like these, where the infectious, roiling undeniability of it all meets genuine weight and purpose. For a festival headline set, there’s not much more you could ask for.

---

Words by Luke Nuttall

Photos by Maryleen (Instagram / Website)