Jonny Numb

“It’s electronic music – try not to unplug it.” – the Terrorfakt guy

I like – nay, love – the idea of New Jersey’s Dark Force Fest (DFF hereafter): a music festival that packs in Goth and Industrial acts (legacy and current; national and international), plentiful vendors with items to scratch every dark itch, panel discussions, DJs who keep the party going into the wee hours of the morning, and a well-integrated selection of food trucks.

Years ago, me and Lizard made annual pilgrimages to Montreal (and, for its last 2 iterations, Toronto) for the Kinetik/Aftermath Festival, a multi-day event with a similar modus operandi.

Some things haven’t changed after all these years: the camaraderie and conversation shared during long car rides; our excitement at being exposed to new artists; and the audio-visual communion of seeing old favorites in a room full of like-minded people.

With great anticipation, I attended the inaugural 2023 edition of DFF – only to find myself disappointed at the myriad technical problems that plagued both the main and side stages, and how they not only put the weekend perpetually off-schedule, but caused the artists (who I assume were given certain guarantees after signing their contracts) to operate at a disadvantage that forced them – and the crowd – to cringe through mic feedback and random system crapouts. (Rabbit Junk’s set was such a disaster, the DFF organizers invited them back the following year, ostensibly under the pretense that the tech issues would be fixed.)

In a bit of “fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me” mentality, I gave DFF another chance in 2024, only to find that the technical issues remained – to the point where it became a consistent source of side conversation between me and Lizard. I can understand the ticket-buying public being an afterthought (“we already got your money, dude!”), but to subject artists to persistent sound issues at a music festival seems fucked up.

And it’s even more fucked up when a band has to plaster on a “grin-and-bear-it” to save face and praise the festival that’s failing them at their given trade.

I spent a bulk of that year waiting for the other shoe to drop whenever someone’s set started off sounding half-decent.

So, in 2025, I made the bold, nonconformist decision to sit out DFF.

And yeah, I kinda missed it. Especially when Lizard (who did go) told me that the sound and scheduling issues had been (mostly) rectified.

So, as 2025 rolled into its final quarter and band announcements for DFF 2026 began to crop up on social media, I set my mind on attending. And there was much excitement as one great announcement followed another (Ultra Sunn! Das Ich (returning)! Frontline Assembly! Amulet! Unter Null!). I secured my tier-3 early bird ticket, scheduled the AirBnB where we stayed in 2023, and commenced anticipation.

To make things more interesting, Lizard’s lady friend (already well-versed in this style of music) tagged along for a bulk of the weekend.

****

For early May in the Northeast, the weather was frustrating – with forecast predictions in that weird limbo where it’s not cold enough to wear shorts, and not warm enough to not have a coat of some sort – yet accommodating for my always-running-hot self.

My philosophy: dress for the primary space you’ll be inhabiting for the day. And considering the sold-out status of the event and the likelihood of sardine-canned rooms and corridors, I stuck with my primary concert-going attire: shorts, T-shirt, blazer, and driver’s cap.

This worked out well – the ballroom in particular was either air-conditioned or simply yielded a draft from the outside somehow, so even at its fullest, it was never truly uncomfortable (in terms of temperature; foot tolerance was another matter).

Interestingly, the room housing the side stage seemed larger and deeper than it did in previous years; perhaps it was a perspective shock from my absence in 2025; or perhaps the space just filled in more than in years prior.

In any case: the side stage still feels like a version of that Contra level with the electrical fields, put through a hydraulic press.

Or: remember that scene in MaXXXine where – SPOILER! – Kevin Bacon is handcuffed to the steering wheel of his car and gets crushed to death in the scrapyard? It feels kinda like that.

Did anybody else see MaXXXine?

Basically: if you’re not within the first few rows – or tall as shit – you won’t see shit. It’s not ideal. And I’m someone who tries to be cognizant of the shorter folks within the vicinity.

To be continued…

[header photo by Jonny]