It takes a particular kind of magic to make a small outdoor stage built from scaffolding feel like the flaming gates of an underworld realm, but that’s exactly what Castle Rat did on a warm summer night at Arena Wien.
The New York-based doom quartet didn’t just perform – they summoned. With every tattered cloak, rusted prop sword, and doom-laced gallop of guitar, Castle Rat transported the audience into the technicolor depths of some long-forgotten VHS-era fever dream. Think Conan the Barbarian by way of Mercyful Fate, with a dash of early Ghost, but played completely straight. And somehow, it worked.
This wasn’t cosplay. This wasn’t gimmickry for gimmickry’s sake. The band’s elaborate worldbuilding, centered around Queen Rat’s eternal battle against Lady Death, was grounded by tight musicianship and an incredibly commanding stage presence. The guitar tone was nothing short of massive, each riff carrying the weight of an iron gate slamming shut. Despite the fantasy trappings, Castle Rat never lost control of the sound, which rang out clear and heavy, every note sharpened like a blade.
Their theatricality brought to mind the DIY charm of ‘80s metal scenes that thrived more on vibe than precision. While many modern bands trade in spontaneity for lighting cues and backing tracks, Castle Rat embraced the chaos. Their show felt alive, unpredictable, and fiercely real.
Supporting them was Vienna’s own Bum Shelter, an experimental doom act that offered a more abstract kind of heaviness. Their vocalist shifted between guttural roars and sharp snarls with surprising agility, anchoring the band’s meandering, fuzz-drenched sound in something primal. It’s not easy to warm up a crowd in the evening sun in the shadow of a bigger festival (Nova Rock was happening at the same time), but the local support was strong and the turnout spoke volumes about Vienna’s underground loyalty.
In a time where perfection is pre-programmed and danger is dialed down, Castle Rat reminded us that the ritual of live music still thrives in places where the stage barely fits the myth. You don’t need pyro and million-dollar visuals to create another world. Sometimes, all you need is a rat queen, a magical sword, and the conviction to conjure something bigger than the sum of your gear.
Okay, and maybe some really, really loud amps.
