From the moment their enormous Ooser head is unveiled atop a multi-tiered stage and the first riffs of Woodland Rites roll out, Green Lung are a band born to tread boards of this size. Tom Templar looks like a man living out every one of his bedroom metal fantasies, singing as much from his endless theatrical hand gestures as he does his (tonight particularly huge sounding) voice. Meanwhile, Scott Black has quickly morphed into a formidable guitar hero, shredding through Mountain Throne, huge power ballad Oceans Of Time and thunderous Reaper’s Scythe like some mad fusion of Tony Iommi and Brian May.
Adding to the occasion, there’s also intriguing surprises to go with the big production. For the stirring folk strum of Song Of The Stones – a reflective, quiet number they had the guts to bring out at Bloodstock, without losing a lick of momentum – half the band leave the stage for first half to be performed by an all-female trio dubbed The Oosettes, sticking around to add violin to May Queen. Both fully show the wistful, old Albion muse at the heart of the band perfectly.
This quiet moment also makes the returning thump through an epic The Forest Church, Hunters In The Sky (“About hunting aristocrats on Dartmoor…”) and riotous Maxine (Witch Queen) all the more powerful. And for all the talk of ancient times and a sound that drinks heavily from the cups of Black Sabbath, Deep Purple and Queen, it’s all immediate, vital, energised, now. It’s not an escape to a rural-noir fantasy, so much as a reminder of the importance of these things. Therein lies the magic.