RE-IMPERATOUR ASCENDS AT ASCEND AMPHITHEATER

Amon Amarth’s Valhalla Roar to Ghost’s Unholy Sermon

August 27, Nashville, TN – Ascend Amphitheater was the epicenter of an unforgettable sonic quake, as it hosted the “Re-Imperatour” featuring the enigmatic Ghost and the ferocious Amon Amarth.

Ghost, ever enshrouded in mystery and theater, have been on everyone’s lips since their recent opus, “Impera”, graced the airwaves. Their performances transcend simple showmanship. The intricate makeup, the elaborate robes, and haunting masks make them an embodiment of the spectral tales they weave in every song.

Amon Amarth, on the other hand, are legends in their own right. Their new magnum opus “The Great Heathen Army” has been a siren song for all metal aficionados. With every roar, every drumbeat, they breathe life into the ancient Norse tales, making you feel the cold winds of the North, and the passion of Viking sagas. Their stage isn’t just a platform; it’s a longboat, riding the rough seas, carrying warriors from Valhalla and back.

The world of concert photography, as exhilarating as it is, has its shadows. There are those gigs—the ones that aren’t just ticks on a checklist but milestones on a journey. Oh, how many nights have I let slip away, entranced by Ghost’s ethereal stages on Instagram or Amon Amarth’s fierce Viking stance. For a girl who grew up dancing in the kaleidoscopic streets of Nicaragua, these bands were the pinnacle, the dream. But dreams, they often tease before they embrace.

Rejection? Us concert photographers, we eat that for breakfast. But getting turned down for this show? That stung like a bitch. Just when I was about to drown my sorrows in cheap wine and Bukowski, life threw a curveball. Two days before the concert, while I was neck-deep in mundane work calls, the notification popped up. I got the show. The universe heard my chants, my candles, my desperate prayers to God, and every ancestor who ever lived. I screamed so loud my partner thought I’d gone mad. Maybe I had. With happiness.

Ascend Amphitheater was a realm of its own. Fans poured in, each costume more elaborate than the last. The landscape was a mix of Vikings, goat herders, mischief-laden nuns, dark-hearted priests, and ethereal Nordic fairies. The congregation also had its share of monks—both the saintly and the sinful, each playing their part in this grand spectacle. Anchoring myself beside Amon Amarth’s stage felt like standing at the gates of Valhalla.

The backdrop painted a vivid Norse realm, and with the opening chords of “Raven’s Flight”, it was clear we were in for an epic journey. The set, a formidable list of anthems, took us through the heart-thumping “Shield Wall”, the melodic tales of “Heidrun” and “Put Your Back Into the Oar”, and the raging fervor of “Deceiver of the Gods”. Each song was a saga in itself, inviting the crowd into tales of bravery, battles, and mythical beasts. As “The Way of Vikings” and “Guardians of Asgaard” echoed through the venue, the atmosphere grew thicker with Nordic spirit, culminating in the electrifying renditions of “Raise Your Horns” and “Twilight of the Thunder God”. By the close, I felt like I’d journeyed through a storm, walked with gods, and was ready to raid a village with the might of Amon Amarth’s anthems propelling me forward.

The transition to Ghost was like stepping from a battlefield into an unholy cathedral. The serene yet eerie opening of “Imperium” was but a taste of the spectral delights to come. Their set was a dance of the macabre, with haunting tracks like “Kaisarion”, “Rats”, and “Faith” setting the tone. The amphitheater was a cathedral, with “Spillways” and “Cirice” resonating like dark hymns, and the crowd a congregation enraptured by every note. “Absolution”, “Ritual”, and “Call Me Little Sunshine” felt like sermons from the other side, pulling us deeper into Ghost’s realm. The mood shifted seamlessly from the eeriness of “Watcher in the Sky” and “Spöksonat” to the captivating melodies of “Mary on a Cross” and “Respite on the Spitalfields”. But the night was far from over. Their encore, featuring the devilishly catchy “Kiss the Go-Goat”, the irresistible “Dance Macabre”, and the iconic “Square Hammer”, ensured that Ghost’s unholy benediction would remain etched in our souls long after the last note had been played.

“Re-Imperatour” was a raw, haunting odyssey. An experience that’ll etch deep, especially for one photographer who found her dream amidst the shadows.

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