Who would have thought that after all the snow and travel problems leading up to last year's event where we ultimately didn't miss a heartbeat of Hard Rock Hell IV, that the non appearance of a certain spaceman on this year's line up would have caused us quite so many problems getting our shit together?

The sighting of a Frehley's Comet over the UK is such a rare thing these days that a fair few of us had actually decided to follow some of his other dates around the Hard Rock Hell weekend this year. More fool us then eh as one slip at home later and Ace Frehley was staying the other side of the Atlantic with a fractured wrist, thus leaving some of us well and truly out of pocket and wondering what the fuck to do next? However Space Ace wasn't alone, as fellow American's Little Caesar were also out of the running very late in the day when they had apparently been refused entry onto their flight over to the UK due to the high temperature of one of their band members suffering from an acute dose of the flu. 

This was all starting to sound a little too Spinal Tap for us and with two bands down on our "must see list" some of us were actually thinking "fuck it let's stay home this year", but how could we possibly miss one of the highlights of our gig going calendar? Well we couldn't could we?

There would be plenty of surprises ahead for us, plenty of hangovers/fried food overdoses and very little sleep - so it was pretty much business as usual as one by one we all started to assemble at Pontins Prestatyn for a weekend at the Village Of The Damned.

THURSDAY (Mark Taylor)

Once I had unpacked and made up a temporary bar in our chalet it was time to check out the hard rocking action inside the playpen that is the Pontins Holiday Camp in this year's themed Village Of The Damned night where most punters had either dressed up as zombies or were auditioning for the latest line up of Marilyn Manson's band.

Tygers Of Pan Tang were the first band we got our claws stuck into on stage 2 (having missed the bands opening up in The Queen Vic pub largely due to the amount of time it took us to get to North Wales from The Smoke). Guitarist Robb Weir is still the only original in the band but he has assembled an ass kicking live band around that's for sure. Singer Jacopo Meille is a great find and someone who can reach all the high notes of Jon Deverill as well as recapture the snarl of Jess Cox, which is just as well as tonight it was old songs all the way to the bar. 'Euthanasia' opened the set and is one that could well be dedicated to all of us older rockers here tonight ready to lap up this night of classic NWOBHM. This was a quick fire set (of as I said old songs) that simply flashed by all too soon. 'Hellbound' got the air guitar out for the first time this weekend and I must say the boys "Did It Good".

Girlschool are true Hard Rock Hell veterans (just like some of us at URHQ) and the cheeky banter between the girls during a live show always makes the punters feel at home in their presence. Just like the Tygers before them, tonight was pretty much a NWOBHM smash and grab raid of some of their 'Hit 'N Run' favourites. Kim McAuliffe may have been suffering a little from a cold but that didn't stop her from belting out the numbers, and it's always a delight to hear tunes like 'Screaming Blue Murder', 'C'mon Lets Go' and set closer 'Emergency'.

Not everyone here was too familiar with Demon but when you're in a venue renamed The Village Of The Damned their addition to this years bill seemed rather appropriate don't you think? It's just a crying shame that more people didn't hang around to see them because they did release a trio of classic albums back in the early eighties at the height of NWOBHM's popularity and just like the song title itself this certainly was 'A Night Of The Demon'. The music Demon specialises in is atmospheric demonic melodic rock that captures the imagination, with many of those around me surprised at just how good Demon actually were in the live setting. 'The Plague' and 'Don't Break The Circle' (both given an airing here) are bonafide classics of the genre and really should be in everyone's record collection.

Praying Mantis were given the unenviable job of closing out the opening night (well that is until Krusher took us into the very wee small hours spinning his decks of death), still possessing some of the best vocal harmonies around as evident on opener 'Children Of The Earth', it wasn't long before those left standing were rocking along (even if some were doing it side to side as well) alongside me. Praying Mantis right now are better than they have ever been anywhere in their very long career and that was never more clearer following tonights tight and well polish set.

So with some of the Uber Rock crew finally starting to make an appearance, I went back to doing what I do best, taking up residency back at our chalet for some well overdue liveners as the weekend was really only just beginning.

FRIDAY (Mark Ashby) 

Despite the earliness of the hour, there is a large crowd gathered in the bar for the first of the six young bands who won places at the festival via the 'Highway To Hell' battle of the bands, and earned their spots through the votes of those actually attending the event. Black Country rockers Liberty Lies start things off with a hard hitting, fired up set of sleazy blues rock, while Belfast's Sweet Taste also are on top form, playing to the biggest crowd of their careers and winning many over with the smart move of debuting a new song, 'Get In Line' written specially for HRH. The Gentlemen Of Distorted Sound are well-received with their goth punk, before The Amorettes prove one of the highlights of the weekend: the three feisty Glaswegian gals well and truly set out their stall to be named heirs apparent to Girlschool's throne as the first ladies of British rock and such is the strength of their set that they sell out all their stock of CDs within minutes of quitting the stage. The retro glam punk verve of Velvet Star keeps the audience on their toes, but the rather wooden Raven Vandelle prove an anti-climax as the closing act on the third stage.

Over at the camp restaurant meanwhile a large area has been turned into an acoustic stage, where Praying Mantis' attempt to deliver their second performance in just over 12 hours is pretty much drowned out by Therapy? soundchecking on the other side of the windows: however, what we can hear is an improvement on the disappointing performance of the previous evening. Sweden's Bonafide have more luck on the sound front, and deliver one of the first true surprises of the weekend, with an excellent and extremely well received unplugged session, while Therapy? make amends with a brief appearance themselves.

By now, the second stage is in action, and Brighton all-female five piece Vier prove to be the first real metal band of the weekend: while visibly nervous, they deliver a solid set and win over many new fans. Canada's Kobra And The Lotus return for the second successive year and once again deliver the goods with a strong set of traditional power metal. Northern Ireland sleaze rockers Million Dollar Reload are in top form, bringing the party across the Irish Sea with panache and passion, and bringing the house down in the process. Things then get a little 'spooky' in the programming department, as both Voodoo Six and Voodoo Johnson keep the masses entertained in hard rockin' style.

By this stage, proceedings have kicked off on the main stage with much overlooked English AOR vets Airrace warming the audience up nicely for the first of Friday night's main attractions. The long awaited return to live action of Wolfsbane certainly does not disappoint, as the band are in brilliant form. Ginger Wildheart, on the other hand, is lacklustre and disappointing, with even a version of the 'Cheers' theme sounding flat and unenthusiastic, before Magnum prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that their majestic pomp rock still has the power to enrapture an audience and that they are one of the best live bands of the past 30 years (even if frontman Bob Catley seems to be transmogrifying into Mick Jagger!).

Therapy? make the most of their HRHV debut, winning the titles of both "Best Dressed Band" and "Loudest Band" hands down, as they rip through a stomping 90 minutes, culminating in one of the loudest singalongs of "James Joyce Is Fucking My Sister" this reviewer has ever heard. Having failed to make last year's festival, for various reasons, LA shock rockers Lizzy Borden prove the old adage that good things come to those who wait, with a theatrical stage show that brings Friday night to a dramatic conclusion in every possible way, with sexy fire-eaters, numerous costume change and onstage vampirism, coupled with histrionic guitar solos and an operatic performance from the masked frontman.

Back on the second stage as we moved into Saturday morning, Scotland's Pallas provide another surprise package with their atmospheric prog, while Swedish sleaze goths Anzi Destruction are plagued with technical problems: SAHG's heavy progressive doom goes down well with a respectable crowd - and the remaining hardy festival-goers are rewarded with one of the best performances of the weekend, when The Treatment defy the 2am start to their set to prove exactly why they are one of the best young British bands around today.

 SATURDAY (Johnny H) 

Waking to some major collateral damage in the cranium area following the previous night's onslaught of Jägerbombs, it wasn't long before I was scooping up a regulation fried handover cure and making my way back over to the camp site to meet up with the rest of the Uber wrecking crew.  With most of the guys wanting to catch Dan Baird opening up the second stage at bang on midday, I had a 'Sudden Impulse' to be next door in the Queen Vic pub to catch a sprightly set from reformed eighties rockers Stampede. With the now five piece playing songs from all 3 of their albums their performance was well received by a largely still waking pub crammed full of punters. Through squinted eyes the Archers look exactly as they did three decades ago, and soundwise so does their brand of majestic riffage with just the merest hint of Lizzy and UFO creeping into their trademarked classic rock sound.. A near perfect way to start our hard rockin' day.

Joining up with the rest of the guys back at stage two, it sounds like Dan Baird & His Homemade Sin have made more than just a few of them very happy indeed by playing 'Keep Your Hands To Yourself' and 'In The Land Of Salivation Of Sin' in quick succession.  I'm just cursing the scheduler that Saturday kicks off with my only band clash of the weekend. "Damn you band scheduler!!!!!"

Up next Pat McManus Band (picking up the slot vacated by the flu bound Little Caesar) who continued the rootsy feel of the early afternoon, playing a kind of Rory Gallagher meets Pat Travers blues whilst slotting in the odd Mama's Boys gem. Pat could do no wrong with those into that type of thing, and there were many of those around me.

Continuing my afternoon residency over at the second stage Dear Superstar (another late addition to the rescheduled line up) battled a troublesome guitar rig and won over a muted crowd to once again give us a tasty slice of their upcoming 'Damned Religion' album. You can tell these guys have lived on the road for most of the last 12 months as they ooze confidence right now even when things aren't necessarily going their way.

Another band that have spent most of their lives on the road are The Dogs D'amour (well in-between their self enforced hiatuses anyway), stepping in at the eleventh hour with The Quireboys vacating their slot here to take up one later on the main stage, any lesser band would have crumbled under such circumstances but not Tyla and his new band of buccaneers. From the first thud of Dave Tregunna's Fender that sped into 'Supreme Creator' this was Tyla back at the top of his game ably assisted by a band more than worthy of carrying The Dogs legacy on its' shoulders. Largely ignoring the band's hits in favour of a more up to date remodelling of their sound those assembled all howled in unison as 'Errol Flynn' spliced the musical main brace and left all of us wanting more, watch out for a fuller live review coming sometime soon on Uber Rock as on this showing I think these guys are going to be around for a long time yet.

With a certain Uber Rock scribe committing mutiny during The Dogs set by sneaking off trying to get a certain Finnish glam/pop band's autographs and in return missing a huge chunk of a glorious return, it felt only right that he then make me walk the plank with him by getting me to stick around for not only Reckless Love but also Crashdïet, a truly wham bam thank you glam late afternoon musical one two.

Playing to a packed out stage two audience it was hotter than hell in here by the time Pepsi...sorry Olli Herman and his band of sample heavy cohorts let loose with all the gusto of a late eighties euro pop outfit. Nevermind how catchy the songs might be, if they were played by the likes of Falco, Roxette or Opus they would sound not one iota different. So why people who proclaim themselves to be Hard Rock Hellions are going completely bananas (or should that be coconuts) around me is quite frankly beyond my understanding.  'Dirty Dreams' gave us some brief crowd nudity before 'Love Bo....'. sorry 'Beautiful Bomb' had everyone singing like their lives depended on it. Me... I was frankly bored shitless.  This has all been done so many times before and oh so much better...next!!!

By direct comparison Sweden's Crashdïet actually sounded like a grindcore band, okay I'm exaggerating a bit there, maybe Skid Row to the Lovers Winger/Poison hybrid and whilst I'm still not a fan of Crashdïet's music their 'fuck you" attitude was much more suited to my musical palette than the blandness of their predecessors. By the end of 'So Alive' with its layers of samples I have to admit I'd pretty much maxed out on the glam as I wandered over to the main stage for the night's first band.  What was needed now was a huge injection of REAL hard rock 'n' roll and Bonafide were just the band to deliver it.

Kicking off with a straight for the throat version of 'Dirt Bound', what was immediately obvious was just how many of the reasonably full crowd gathered knew every word to Bonafide's music, and there I was thinking I'd be the only one eh?  For a relatively unknown band to play for an hour keeping their audience captivated in the process, is a pretty mean feat, but that's exactly what Pontus and his crew managed to do with ease, slipping the odd cover version ('I Don't Need No Doctor', and 'Rock 'n' Roll Outlaw') in amongst their own stellar set of honest working class hard rock to keep anyone wanting something a little more familiar happy.  Clad all in denim and straddling his monitor like an in his prime Francis Rossi it is Pontus Snibb's Marc Storace like growl that is Bonafide's unique selling point and one I can see the band making full use of in 2012 if the reaction 'Fill Your Head With Rock' got here tonight is anything to go by.  Ah and after an hour of Bonafide I actually felt clean again.

Not wanting to miss Orange Goblin but having to due to a distinct lack of food in my body at this point (you cannot run on energy drinks and Mars bars alone you know) I left the Uber Troop to watch a "totally awesome" set from Ben and the boys (that was their review of proceedings so why should I elaborate on it) returning just in time for The Quireboys on the main stage.

Entering to the intro of 'Big Spender' and obviously loving every minute of their upgraded status, the packed out hall were really there for The Quireboys taking tonight, but you know what, I don't think Spike and the guys actually did deliver that killer blow, or give that little extra push that would etch their performance in the Hard Rock Hell annals of fame. Many years ago I would have dancing around like a fricking idiot to tunes like 'Misled' and 'There She Goes Again' but here they sound more like the musical equivalent to a comfortable pair of old shoes rather than the rambunctious tearaway anthems of my early twenties. Perhaps it's me, who knows? But this is the second time I've drifted off during a Quireboys set and that isn't how I want to remember this truly great rock 'n' roll band that's for sure.

With the disappointment of Ace Frehley's cancelled appearance still hanging over the weekend like some sort of haunted spacesuit from Scooby Doo (you know the one that the Amusement Park owner uses to scare people away to bankrupt his business until the pesky kids thwart his plans...Oooo now that sounds slightly familiar), it would take something very special to make up for the no show of one of the rock world's true characters, so "thank the lords of rock" we had another equally infamous larger than life character up next.

I'm not going to mince my words here boys and girls because, Michael Monroe simply owned Hard Rock Hell V. With his Dregen-charged outfit now fully blooded in they were simply an awesome sight to behold. Superlatives fail me (for once) in trying to describe just how essential the tracks from 'Sensory Overdrive' sounded alongside the usual suspects from his back catalogue, but if I tell you I was lucky enough to see Hanoi Rocks in their heyday and that this was almost as good as I remember Hanoi being back in '84 then you might start to get an idea of just how awesome it really was.

When tracks like last single and set opener 'Trick Of The Wrist' or '78' can stand shoulder to shoulder with classics like 'Malibu Beach' and 'Hammersmith Palais' and no one is focussed on anything other than the stage you get the sense that you are watching a band in total control of their destiny.   Band of the weekend and then some and anyone who disagrees with that needs to go and buy a Dead Boys or Stooges album and learn what real music is all about...because it most certainly isn't Black Stone Cherry.

Never mind how much I want to like Black Stone Cherry, I can never get past that appalling 'Blind Man' lyric, and when said song was played as early as it was in tonight's set there really was no way back, and all of a sudden I found myself wandering back over to the second stage just in time to catch Liverpool's finest exponents of thrash/crossover SSS.

This was certainly more like it, no faux Bob Marley/Lynyrd Skynyrd covers here, just honest to goodness straight from the heart hardcore.  Things very quickly got well and truly messy as those assembled proceeded to go suitably mental to tunes lasting no more than 2 minutes in length, which at this time in the morning was a most welcome 'Short Sharp Shock' (excuse the pun).  With lead singer Foxy as switched on as ever to his situation and surroundings he was quick to tell people that "long hairs were welcome to join in the fun but anyone wearing spandex could fuck the fuck off".  Playing for what felt like about 20 minutes of their allotted 40 minutes, tracks like 'Damaged Goods' and 'Thrash With A Small Moustache' were the perfect way to end this year's Hard Rock Hell weekend, whilst also acting as the perfect teaser to get us wondering what Hammerfest might actually be like.

So whilst the rest of Hard Rock Hell were shaking their heads to Tyketto over in the main hall have a look at what your friends at Uber Rock were getting up to above and remember "music is for life not just for Xmas".

See you next year?

Photo Kudos; Thursday Night; Dutch Michaels,

Friday and Saturday; Tessa Blakout. (Excluding the moshing pic)