May 13th, 2024 – Hail to thee, fellow warriors! Gather around the hearth and let me recount the glorious battle of Amon Amarth’s recent raid upon the Fillmore Philadelphia. As a descendant of the Norsemen, the echoes of Valhalla rang in my ears as we witnessed a spectacle worthy of the gods.
Photos + Foreword by Keith Baker ( @avgjoe_photo ) , Article by @a.j.kinney
The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as the horde assembled within the Fillmore’s hall. The smell of sweat and ale mingled with the electric tension, a reminder of the feast halls of old. The stage, adorned with banners and runes, looked like a battlefield waiting for its warriors.
When the lights dimmed and the first chords of “Guardians of Asgaard” thundered through the air, the hall erupted with the ferocity of a Viking charge. Johan Hegg, the towering chieftain of this musical clan, commanded the stage with the presence of a god. His growling voice was the roar of a thousand berserkers, calling us to arms.
The setlist was a saga of triumphs and tribulations, with anthems like “The Pursuit of Vikings” and “Raven’s Flight” igniting the crowd into a frenzy. Each song was a chapter in the epic tale, telling of battles, honor, and the glory of the Norse way. The audience, our fellow shield-brothers and shield-maidens, responded with unyielding fervor, a sea of horns raised high.
The skill of the band was unmatched, with Olavi Mikkonen and Johan Söderberg’s guitars weaving intricate tales of heroism and doom. The relentless drumming of Jocke Wallgren was the heartbeat of our tribe, and Ted Lundström’s bass lines were as sturdy as a Viking longship. Together, they forged a sound as mighty as Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir.
A highlight of the evening was the performance of “Raise Your Horns,” where the entire hall became a unified clan, toasting to victories past and those yet to come. As Hegg raised his drinking horn, the Fillmore became a hall of echoes, each voice a pledge of allegiance to the Amon Amarth banner.
The stage production was nothing short of a spectacle. Flames and pyrotechnics lit the hall, a visual representation of the hellfire that burns in every warrior’s soul. The presence of a colossal serpent during “Twilight of the Thunder God” brought forth the mighty Jörmungandr, making the legends come alive before our very eyes.
As the final notes of “Twilight of the Thunder God” resounded, the Fillmore was left in awe. The raid was over, but the spirit of the Viking warriors lingered, etched in the hearts of those present. Amon Amarth had led us into battle and emerged victorious.
In the end, we left the hall with hoarse voices and spirits lifted high, each of us bearing a tale of glory to recount to our kin. The raid upon Philadelphia was a testament to the enduring spirit of the Norse, and Amon Amarth, our modern skalds, delivered a performance worthy of the sagas.
Skål! To Amon Amarth and to the eternal flame of Viking metal that burns within us all.
