By Boushra – Rock Immersion, in collaboration with MetalMadTV
I’m writing this from an airplane flying back to Paris, but my soul is still in the pit at Rock im Park. My voice is gone, my body’s sore, my boots are soaked in dried mud — but I feel more alive than ever. And while the plane takes me further away, my heart is already racing toward 2026.
This is not a setlist breakdown or a critique of performances — I don’t believe that’s my place. This is a love letter. A celebration of a festival that embraced me with open arms, not only as a fan but as a first-time press member. A reminder that when music is shared in the right space, magic happens.
Rock im Park is different
For once, a festival that doesn’t feel like it was made only for those with a car, a tent, and a squad. It’s in the heart of Nuremberg, just 30 minutes from the airport. We flew in from different cities, booked an apartment nearby, and didn’t need to haul backpacks through the woods or worry about how to get home. And inside the venue? A full Lidl supermarket, no joke — selling rain gear, clothes, food, bags…everything. You could literally land with a passport and still have the best weekend of your life.
And even when the rain hit, nothing stopped. Trucks smoothed the mud near the stages, water was accessible & for free, and security moved with purpose — not panic. The whole place felt like it cared. And no, you didn’t have to queue forever to eat or use a toilet. A few minutes max — you won’t miss a single riff.
A new family in the pit
I didn’t come alone — I was invited by a fellow Linkin Park fan who was traveling with his friends. I didn’t know the rest of the group, but we all flew in from different parts of Europe — the UK, France, and the Netherlands — and shared the same apartment floor. We didn’t know each other before the fest, but Rock im Park has a way of making strangers feel like lifelong friends. We shared meals, ran between stages, filmed each other’s reactions, and lived every second of the weekend as a small, tight-knit family.
At Korn’s set, I found myself crushed up front — screaming, headbanging, jumping, gasping for air — and after every song, someone next to me would ask “Alles gut?” It was wild. It was sweaty. It was pure fucking nu-metal, like the old days. And when Korn ended their soul-piercing set, we all hugged — total strangers — because we had just survived something sacred together.
Photos: Courtesy of Mauricio Medina
Day by day — The musical journey
Friday, June 6th:
It all began with Skillet electrifying the stage, bringing theatrical energy and faith-driven power that lifted everyone. And then, as night fell, the one and only Slipknot turned the Utopia stage into a warzone of sound and fire. Their set was thunderous — yet what came after was the real shock.
As they left the stage, we waited for an encore. Instead… a countdown.
10… 9… 8…
The entire field held its breath.
3… 2… 1…
And then:
LINKIN PARK. 2026. FIRST HEADLINER.
No one was ready. You could hear the entire festival gasp, then cheer all together. As a lifelong LP fan, I had goosebumps all over. What a way to end the first night!
Saturday, June 7th:
The Warning took the stage and owned it. Three sisters from Mexico, delivering raw vocals better than their own studio recordings. A wall of sound. So real, so tight, so full of rage and power.
Then came Falling in Reverse, and Ronnie Radke? Love him or hate him, you can’t deny his artistry. His performance was self-aware, emotional, and weirdly… playful. He teased the crowd, surprised by the love: “WTF, I thought you all hated me?” When he sang Monster, he asked us to “let it all out — the depression, the anxiety, the self-doubt.” At some point, he pretended he’s leaving before the set ends, the crowd clapped back with chants of “F*ck you, Ronnie!” and yet we sang every line. It was one of the most contradictory and unforgettable live moments of the fest.
Then came Korn, and let me just say: this was not just another year for them. They’re back. The performance was polished, tight, emotional, and thunderous. And seeing 16-year-olds in the crowd screaming lyrics from 20+ years ago? Rock is alive, more than ever.
The night closed with Sleep Token, turning the night into something that felt almost sacred. The atmosphere shifted — it was no longer just a performance, it was a ritual of sound and emotion. With every note, the crowd fell deeper into their world, as if under a spell. The festival became a theatre.
Sunday, June 8th:
We expected things to wind down. Instead, House of Protection — a new band on their first-ever festival tour — lit the fuse. They played like headliners. On a Sunday morning. And they gathered the entire crowd like gravity. Guitarist and vocalist Stephen Harrison jumped off stage, climbed the metal cage, screamed in the crowd. The security team themselves applauded. And afterward, people ran to tell them: “I’ve never seen you before, but I’m now a fan.”
And then came Bring Me the Horizon closing the Utopia stage. A show that wasn’t just a concert — it was a time machine. Nostalgia, storytelling, emotional whiplash. Electric Callboy followed, closing the festival with full-on early 00s vibes. We all turned 15 again in that crowd.
More than music — A movement
I saw diversity in every corner: fans in wheelchairs, 13-year-olds with Korn shirts, 60-year-olds singing along to BMTH, strangers helping each other onto shoulders, lifting each other when they fell, checking if they were okay. It was community. It was compassion. It was the essence of rock.
I interviewed South African fans who flew in just for this. Romanians who drove 14 hours. People from everywhere. For one weekend, we were one giant, loud, sweaty, euphoric family.
And I was not just a fan. I was press. Accredited. Seen. Valued. Rock im Park gave me a voice — and I used it to tell your stories.
Happy 30th Birthday, Rock im Park
Rock im Park is a rock fan’s paradise. It’s where stories begin, where bands rise, and where fans feel like headliners. For someone like me — often made to feel excluded from festivals just because I didn’t have a car or couldn’t camp — this felt revolutionary. I used to think festivals were for others. That unless someone “let me in,” I couldn’t be part of it. But this time, I wasn’t left behind. I was seen, I was heard — as a writer, a fan, and press.
Rock im Park made that dream possible.
Because if you’ve ever felt like a misfit… if you’ve ever been told “there’s no space for you”… Rock im Park will prove you wrong. It gave new bands a real stage. It gave new press voices like mine a seat at the table. And it gave thousands of us a moment that felt larger than life — a moment that felt like home.
I came for the music. I left with my eyes full of stars, my heart on fire, my voice gone — but my soul louder than ever. Rock im Park isn’t just a festival. It’s a love letter to everything we live for as rock fans.
And it’s calling us back.
The festival officially ended on June 8th. On June 10th, the ticket sales opened for 2026. Within one hour:
→ 45,000 tickets sold for your twin sibling Rock am Ring
→ 20,000 tickets for Rock im Park
There’s a reason. And yes — I am already signing up.
See you in 2026.
Boushra ( @Rock Immersion)
Photos: Courtesy of Mauricio Medina
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