Sabaton have taken their own island. Well, kinda. As their mission to conquer Europe continues, we head to Gotland to find out what the hell is going on

WORDS: DAVE EVERLEY • PHOTOGRAPHY: STEVE BRIGHT

Stand on Visby’s rocky beach and gaze out across the roiling sea, and it’s easy to imagine a fleet of wooden ships heaving into view over the horizon, bearing an army of snarling invaders ready to subjugate its inhabitants, or worse.

Dating from the Viking Age, this picture-postcard medieval town is the biggest settlement on the Swedish island of Gotland – ahunk of rock measuring 100 miles by 30 miles, located halfway between mainland Sweden to the west and Latvia to the east. Visby has been fought over down the centuries by the Swedes, the Danes, the Hanseatic League and more, and it has the ruined city walls to prove it.

Another army has invaded Gotland today. This one numbers just five people, and furs and armour have been replaced by puffer jackets and beanie hats to protect against the fearsome wind battering them. They’ve been standing with their backs to the waves for the last 15 minutes for a photoshoot, and the cold is getting to them. Sabaton may be the most successful Swedish metal band of the 21st century, but they clearly haven’t inherited their ancestors’ hardy genes.

“I think we’ve done enough,” says the band’s usually laidback bassist and Joint Chief Of Staff Pär Sundström tetchily. “We have a show to play.”

A gig is fairly unusual in Gotland. In a few hours, Sabaton will play the local ice hockey arena, the fourth gig of a 20-date tour of some of Sweden’s furthest-flung outposts. The last vaguely famous rock group to come to Visby were Swedish glam-metal C-listers Hardcore Superstar. That was in 2021. The next one is… well, there is no ‘next one’, beyond a few low-level Swedish bar acts.

“We called the people who ran the venue and said, ‘We want to do a show ,’” says Pär, grumpiness gone. “They said, ‘When?’ and we said, ‘February.’ They said, ‘Why would you want to be here in February? Nothing happens!’” So why do you want to be here in February? “Why not?” he says, with the grin of man who has made it this far without other people telling him how to do things, and isn’t about to start listening to them now.

A2,000-capacity ice hockey hall on a windswept Baltic island is a long way from the kind of places that Sabaton normally play these days. In April, they kick off a full European tour with four UK arena dates, featuring support from Babymetal and Finnish panto-metallers Lordi.

“We’re only the third Swedish band to headline Wembley Arena, after Abba and Roxette,” says singer Joakim Brodén proudly, as we sit in the lobby of the waterfront hotel that has been commandeered as a temporary barracks by the band and several of their 50-strong crew and entourage.

They arrived here yesterday via ferry from the Swedish mainland. This is a scaled-down operation by their standards: just the three articulated trucks and two tour buses carrying the band, their equipment and their stage set. The crew for their upcoming UK shows and the European arena tour that follows currently numbers 141, including drivers, caterers and the people who take care of the laundry.

Neatly organised camouflage so it can be easily found (ho ho!)

Visby itself is a beautiful town. A cathedral whose origins date back to the 13th century looms over cobbled streets and charming old buildings. Crumbling fortifications and the ruins of churches offer glimpses of past glories and the fates that befell them. Still, the people who said that nothing happens in Visby in February weren’t lying. Aside from the odd bar and restaurant, pretty much everything else is closed. This the first time Joakim has been to the island, but Pär came here regularly as a teenager. Every summer, Visby holds one of the biggest medieval events in Europe, its population of 24,000 swelling to upwards of 100,000 for one epic week of fighting, jousting and drinking. The young Pär’s interest in live action role-playing drew him to medieval re-enactment circles, which in turn brought him here as a teenager.