There’s no hiding the fact we love Worn Out. But saying that, in theory, the Irish lads should be facing some difficulty this morning. Not only do they have the job of waking up a crowd weary after two days of festivaling, but they’re also more or less the only hardcore band on the entire lineup. Thankfully, most of the people here have been awake since 4 am due to some pricks bin jousting at that hour, and understandably, most are rightfully pissed off. Also, it certainly helps that Worn Out are just naturally brilliant at what they do. Breathlessly running through 30 minutes of breakdowns, riffs in odd time signatures and enough rage that feels like the anger of everyone sleepless here combined, Worn Out are essentially perfect viewing this morning. Their new single, ironically titled ‘No Sleep’ see’s the first pit action of the day even before most finish their coffees. A sample of Gavin McNally singing their praises intercut mid song pretty much summaries our thoughts on this band too, and should any event need a band to represent hardcore as a whole, it’s hard to think of band more suitable than Worn Out.

In true mercurial ATG fashion, it’s the direct opposite vibe over in the Bixler. Sounding blissful as they mare shoegaze, post-rock with a tender alt rock approach, Wildernesses sound like the ethereal dreamscapes like many missed last night. Still, the fashion in which they sound so dreamy and translucent shouldn’t be too surprising given how the band features members of Earth Moves and the dearly missed We Never Learned to Live in their ranks. But regardless, it’s nothing but blissful to hear a new project such as this sound as sublime as they do. A wonderful listen for those captivated at the barrier as well as for those napping outside the tent on the mildew-coated grass. Should this be anything to go by, their upcoming tour with Din Of Celestial Birds should not be one to be missed.

Opening the PX3 stage has started to become a bit of a key slot in recent years at ATG. Most days and years now have some barnstormingly heavy act start the day, waking up any weary heads across the site. And after a classic ATG downpour overnight, many have not slept well anyway and need this Norwich trio to kick people into gear. Walking onto ‘Folsom Prison Blues’ by the late Johnny Cash, Sleemo hit the wet ground running. Their dichotomy between clean and heavy vocals, shared between Jack and Billy, is a perfect antidote to any damp socks in trainers. Their songwriting has come on leaps and bounds as they showcase their next chapter as a band after a short break.

Simultaneously over on the main stage, before a note is even played, IAN guitarist Ted Reynolds breaks one of the cardinal rules of playing live music: never tell the audience you’re nervous. His case of the heebie jeebies is understandable though; IAN are opening the main stage for the entire weekend, and the tent is packed. Thankfully, as soon as they start, it’s as if all the nerves are carried away in a barrage of oppressive doom riffs, droning, distorted cello, and thunderous drums. There’s an off-kilter weirdness to their brand of post-metal that will satisfy the fans of Swans, Melvins and Godspeed in the audience – of which there are likely to be many – and their use of eerie sepia visuals on the giant video screen behind them adds further atmosphere to their dense compositions. It’s a brilliant start to the weekend proper, and by all accounts has guaranteed them a returning spot on next year’s bill.

Forget post-rock ambient soundscapes and prog circus music, Birmingham trio Terminals are here to deliver huge riffs as efficiently as possible. Establishing themselves as one of the UK’s most exciting heavy alternative acts before even releasing an album, Terminals’ live shows alongside bands like The Last Vinci and Blank Atlas have already become the stuff of legend. The trio, led by guitarist and vocalist James Whitehouse, drag Deftones-inspired downtuned riffs kicking and screaming into a catchy British alt-rock context. With both a baritone guitar and bass, Terminals’ low end is punishingly heavy; Whitehouse keeps things breezy and accessible in the upper register with angelic clean vocals on tracks like ‘Breathe’ and set closer ‘Awake’. Terminals sound like both a throwback to the heaviest bands of the noughties and the future of alternative rock, and sure, whilst their craft may seem a bit basic when compared to some of the more adventurous acts here today, none of that really matters. These lads are going places.

Back under the tarp of the PX3, it’s utterly rammed for Witchsorrow’s sinful sermon in all things doom. Sounding not unlike that of Green Lung being sacrificed to one of their revered older gods before being revived by Electric Wizard and Cathedral, the trio’s set is one of thick riffs and even thicker gloom. But whilst Witchsorrow may certainly seem like a more elementary proposition than what’s just come before in IAN, it’s clear such riffery is more than welcome here. A cheeky guest appearance from the as-of-yesterday ex-Svalbard vocalist Serena Cheery is nothing but welcome too. A great 30-minute exercise in classic Iommi worship, clawed hands, and the slowest headbanging possible.

It takes a lot to open any festival, let alone ArcTanGent. After all, with ArcTanGent known for having an extremely attentive audience, any opener will be playing to a large audience regardless if most ticket holders will be setting up camp whilst throwing back the final dregs of the first tinny of the weekend at the time. Also, with the last few years seeing the likes of Sans Froid, Host Body and Ogives Big Band opening proceedings, to say the bar is high is somewhat of a slight understatement. Thankfully, the filthy sludge bastards Swamp Coffin live up to expectations. Back again for their second year on the bounce and presenting a sound thicker than most digestive deposits come the end of four days of booze and bunnychow, the Rotherham yob’s set is 30 minutes of pooling filth that sprains the neck muscles of most attendees before they even get a chance to crack their first pint of Post Rad. Ending in the promised slowest wall of death ever, it’s a fantastic, albeit filthy start to a festival known for being anything but clean or compromising.

Returning after a triumphant early doors set last year, The Grey waste no time in getting stuck in, presenting songs from their incredible 2025 album, KODOK. Their crushing yet hypnotic post-metal sounds like the controlled demolition of an entire planet. Will Haven’s Grady Avenell may not be with them this time round, but they do bring out a couple of special guests to join them. Birdwitch’s Raya-Mhari Iglesias Beattie comes out for a mesmerizing rendition of ‘Cygnus’ before Hundred Year Old Man’s David Duxbury joins Andy Price on vocals for emotional set closer ‘CHVRCH’, the pair of them getting up close and personal with the audience.