Is it responsible to let our poor visitors of the day have their breakfast to the sounds of STAKE? Indeed, this old faithful servant of Lokerse Feesten was recently on a morning train to Brussels, listening to "Love, death and decay" (2022), the latest explosion of the musical clamor that STAKE unleashed on poor humanity. Somewhere between Zele and Dendermonde, the emergency brake still seemed to be the only option, after all, the desire for fresh air was too strong. Beware, these modern trains no longer have windows that can be opened. Pick another time of day for 'Deadlock eyes', 'Deliverance dance' or 'F*ck my anxiety' to waltz over you, respectively an elbow, a left hook and an uppercut that guarantee 15 minutes of uninvited rest on the ropes. One would dare to describe STAKE's music as intense, but then again, ginger tea or walking on a Lego brick with bare feet is intense. To properly describe STAKE, we really have to dig a little deeper into our knowledge of Dutch. Barely thirty years old, the four guys of STAKE - remember their gold plaque at the Rock Rally 2008 - already qualify as veterans. Thirty years old and a veteran, that brings to mind American teenagers who did their military service in Vietnam. Perhaps the comparison is not so far-fetched after all, STAKE on stage sometimes sounds more like a deafening clatter of guns than rock'n roll, a dizzying succession of climaxes and - Mayday! Mayday! - rockets coming. Hard rockers have been known to consume a plate of Frosties and a pint every morning. If you have a toothache and a belly full of beer, you'd better opt for a West Flanders steamroller on an empty stomach on Sunday, August 6. A half-liter and a forehead washcloth are available at the bar after the party.