Descendents and Circle Jerks (15/3/25, O2 Shepherd’s Bush Empire, London, England, UK)

Posted on 19th March 2025 by MRDA

Saturday night at Shepherd’s Bush gave London a triple-bill of old-school American punk rock to throw down to, with Detroit, Michigan, punkers Negative Approach serving as support for double-headling So-Cal stalwarts the Circle Jerks and the Descendents.

The former were certainly energetic and abrasive in sound, with frontman John Brennan looking like the wind had changed whilst he was sniffing a fart, bringing the right dose of mean mug to proceedings; however, many of the numbers that sounded great on record—’Pressure’, ‘Evacuate’, ‘Tied Down’, et al—were drowned out by the excess distortion employed for the live performances, rendering them, at best, barely discernable beneath the wall of noise. A real shame given their solid and distinctive back catalogue. Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth fame dropped by for some guitar duelling with the band, which made for a pleasing visual spectacle. However the deluging of the distinct instrumentals and Brennan’s vocals made the set less than it could’ve been for me.

No such worries with the Circle Jerks, my main draw to the gig, who knocked out the likes of ‘Deny Everything’, ‘Trapped’, ‘Under the Gun’, ‘Wild in the Streets’, and ‘Live Fast, Die Young’ in sterling, highly recognisable form. With many of their songs clocking in at under a couple of minutes (their debut album, Group Sex, is just a quarter of an hour long), the band managed to pack 30 songs into their hour-long set. Dreadlocked frontman Keith Morris had a good rapport with the audience, every now and again going into somewhat lengthy vignettes on the backstories behind certain songs, elaborate namedrops, and the obligatory anti-Trump/-Musk dig (“I don’t want to drive a Nazi car!”). Musically, a strong live introduction to a playlist favourite, even if some of the between-song talk, for all its points of interest, got a little drawn out.

Finally, the Descendents gave me an insight as to who the grandfathers of the whole” pop-punk” subgenre are, many of their songs (‘Nothing with You’, ‘Silly Girl’, ‘I’m the One’, ‘Smile’) sounding pretty much like what you’d hear from the likes of Blink 182, Simple Plan, Bowling for Soup, Sum 41, only more consistently memorable. It wasn’t all heartfelt infatuation and oneitis, though, as songs such as ‘Everything Sux’, ‘I Don’t Wanna Grow Up’, ‘Rotting Out’, ”Merican’, and ‘No Fat Burger’ amply demonstrated. Listening to their tour setlist before and during the gig gave me an ear to a goldmine of punk history I’d long slept on, so this gig served as something of an overall introduction to them. Frontman Milo Aukerman did his instrumental section and recorded output proud and then some, sticking his mic over the barriers for selective crowd-member paLet’s not get started on my failure to get hold of  tour shirt!.rticipation every now and then. The once-again obligatory anti-Trump rant during the encore met with the expected applause from the audience too. I’d moved from the front by this time, however, as I’d spent half the set staring into the torsos of the security team intercepting the copious crowdsurfers rather than at the stage.

In summation, a simultaneously fun and frustrating* live intro to a trio old-school punk staples, familiar and otherwise.

*Let’s not get started on my failure to get hold of  tour shirt!.

~MRDA~

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Black Occult Fest 2025 (2/3/25 New Cross Inn, London, England, UK)

Posted on 7th March 2025 by MRDA



Sunday’s outing was something rather special: an indoor festival down sarf London way featuring bands of varying but adjacent genres, namely noise, power electronics, neofolk, and my main draw, black metal. In short, a combo of familiar  sounds (and faces) and less charted ones.


1-800 Babylon kicked off proceedings, taking to the stage for a short joint “ritual ambient” set with fellow Italian act Aesthetic Cloth; it look me a little while to process that the long “intro” track, reminiscent of many I’ve heard for albums of other genres, was, in fact, the main attraction, much to my amusement once I’d clocked on. Then again, I suppose it served its purpose well as an intro to the general run of things, were one to combine the evening’s proceedings into one long setlist.


Next up came local act Will to Power, showcasing his brand of dissonant, ear-piercing, antagonistic noise. Shrill feedback punctuated by barked and decidedly pissed-off vocals was pretty much the state of play for his brief set. A memorable introduction to live power electronics.


Ludvigism followed him up with a set of sample-heavy experimentalism that nevertheless added a bit more in the way of structure and coherence to proceedings, what with the loops in sampling and programming. Not a bad set.


However, it was with the next set that things got *really* interesting.


Things started with a ritual on the floor in front of the stage, during which a rather arresting box of cassettes received a blessing in what sounded like a tongue once, maybe even currently, regionally, familiar to these isles. Afterward, those in proximity, myself included, were each gifted a cassette from the box.


The tribal drumming kicked in soon after, punctuated by the barks and cries of the semi-masked vocalist sharing the floor (and the chick next to me crying, “THAT’S MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND!”) —quite the spectacle and probably the most standout part of a standout night.


Turns out all this was the handiwork of RWFBTSA, a sideproject of the band Runeboy, who took to the stage for a more conventional, though no less impressive set. Think post-punk with elements of Oi! and neofolk, and you’ve nailed their sound. Being of a post-punk-enjoying persuasion, I thought, the set was great, with the likes of ‘Black Raven’, ‘Runegirl’, and ‘We’ve Already Won’ (the title of which being a recurring mantra throughout the set) making a strong impression with that rich, prominent bass sound. Judging by the pit action on the floor, the audience wasn’t exactly nonchalant either. Took me by surprise both as a band and a seemingly last-minute addition to the bill.


All that said, the iconography had a certain… völkisch flavour to them, so I sought out bassist Will for a chat at the merch store at the end, during which certain preconceptions were addressed and laid to rest in an amicable, forthcoming fashion. Twas also refreshing to hear someone else talk about rejecting Trojan-horsing and package-dealing in the realm of ideas (more on that in another post, perhaps).

Returning to more familiar ground, Necro Ritual, one of my two main draws to this festival, delivered yet another blistering blast of true Croydon black metal. Beginning with the aural apocalypse of their latest single, ‘Threads’, Corseth, a.k.a. Rob, and co., spared no one with favourites like ‘Black Holocaust’, ‘Homines Religiosi’, ‘Irreligious’ (a welcome addition, given that it’d been absent from their support setlist for Deströyer 666 last year), and, of course, ‘Bastard’. ‘Lycanfire’, seemingly another new un, made a good impression too.


Another storming set, with some inspired growls from Corseth, on-point instrumentals from the rest of the gang, and the band were, as ever, an amiable bunch offstage, particularly Rob and drummer Talos (a.k.a Jason). Only another appearance by Trivax’s Shayan for another, Ramadan-fitting, rendition of ‘Bellum Sacrum’ could’ve made this better.


Bringing the set to a suitably sanguine close was Yorkshire’s Blood Countess, delivering a tight and unrelenting set of songs dedicated to ol’ Liz Bathory herself.


Frontwoman Nina Daemonia (a.k.a The Cuntess) sustained her black-metal rasp throughout, and by throughout, I mean between tracks too.  The instrumentalists, including Steve Blackwood, Nina’s hubby and the bloke behind similarly impressive solo project WynterMyst, did a sterling job, with the stirringly melodic tremolo-picking being a particular standout. ‘Storms over Carpathia’ sounded fucking epic live, and the likes of ‘Orgasm Leading to Death’, ‘Ferenc Nádasdy’, and ‘Ululation of the Grief-Stricken Peasants’ didn’t sound too shabby either.


So, yeah, an interesting and, ultimately, thoroughly satisfying evening of musical prowess, experimental introductions, and camaraderie in familiar and unexpected places. Same again next year, hopefully.

~MRDA~

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Uriah Heep (26/2/25, London Palladium, London, England, UK)

Posted on 4th March 2025 by MRDA

Impressed as I was with their support slot when I saw Priest last year, and considering that this was being touted as their touring swansong, I decided to give Uriah Heep’s Magician’s Farewell tour a gander last Wednesday.

Support came in the form of Canadian lomgstanders April Wine and the hard-rocking Tyketto. The latter opened the show with a rather impressive set that introduced me to ’90s AOR bangers such as ‘Wings’, ‘Burning Down Inside’, ‘Strength in Numbers’, and the song they wrote to encourage birds to get their tits out, ‘Lay Your Body Down’.

April Wine followed up with a serviceable set, the likes of ‘Big City Girls’, ‘Oowatanite’, and ‘Roller’ perking things up, if not quite to the same extent as the previous act.

Things, of course, picked up considerably once Uriah Heep hot the stage, claiming attention and setting the course with the oldy–newy combo of ‘Grazed by Heaven’ and ‘Save Me Tonight’; from then on, it was a setlist of stuff from what their more diehard fans would consider their classic era (‘Stealin”, ‘The Wizard’, the excellent ‘Shadows of Grief’, and the ever lovable, if shortened, ‘Gypsy’) and newer gems (‘Hurricane’). Current vocalist Bernie Shaw mainly dominated the between-song bantage with some interjection from axeman and sole original member Mick Box, both noting the passage of time, the ups and downs of touring, and their plans to keep things alive in the studio following their retirement from the road.

A sterling encore double-bill of ‘Sunrise’ and ‘Easy Livin” closed the last show of their last (?) UK tour to the applause of the audience, myself included. Given how much I dug it, I can only imagine how much more it made its mark on the more hardcore fanbase.

~MRDA~

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Pantera (25/2/25, OVO Arena Wembley, London, England, UK)

Posted on 2nd March 2025 by MRDA

Much has been made of the re-emergence of seminal ’90s-dominating groove metal juggernaut Pantera. Many have called it a soulless, tasteless cash grab that tarnishes the memory of its late founders, the Abbot brothers, that is, original sticksman Vinnie Paul and original axeman Dimebag Darrell. Others have referred it it as a mere tribute act that has no claim on the name. However, there were those, like me, who saw it as a chance to finally see one of their favourite bands live given that they’d missed the chance first time around. After all, whilst the brothers may be gone, this newly revived Pantera still has the presence of Rex Brown on bass and, most prominently, the vocalist that put them on the map back in the day, the one and only Phil Anselmo. Whatever can be said about his more…outspoken moments (and I might say quite a bit another time), the bloke is undoubtedly a key part of Pantera package, not to mention one of my favourite vocalists.

All that accounted for, grabbing myself a ticket for the London date (the last of the tour and, incidentally, the 30th anniversary of the album that got me hooked, Vulgar Display of Power) was a fucking no-brainer.

This new 2.0 reiteration of the band had sturdy support in the form of crossover-thrash heroes Power Trip and Aussie grindcore berserkers King Parrot. The latter kickstarted the show with a pot-bellied, arse-bearing set of optical as well as sonic obnoxiousness, as manic in its aggression as a Tasmanian devil. “We’re the first Australian grindcore band to play Wembley,” noted frontman Matthew Young, “and probably the last.” That said, as much as I found the set more memorable for the overall sound and onstage antics than any particular songs, I did appreciate the likes of  ‘Dead End’, ‘Hell Comes Your Way’, and set closer ‘Fuck You and the Horse You Rode in On’ for being discernable, in the latter’s case, anthemic.

Next up came Power Trip, their brand of chuggy, bellowy crossover thrash being more up my street. I hadn’t heard *of* the band, let alone heard it, prior to original, much-esteemed frontman Riley Gale popping his clogs, but going by this live set, Seth Gilmore makes for a more than respectable replacement, bounding and bellowing around the stage with the energy and aggression his predecessor’s legacy demands. Both he and the rest of the band nail the likes of ‘Soul Sacrifice’, ‘Hornet’s Nest’, ‘Drown/Crucifixation’, and the malevolently anthemic ‘Executioner’s Tax (Swing of the Axe)’, giving them the live honouring they deserve (notably, no one bitches about current-day Power Trip being a “tribute act” as they do in regard to the headliner). Full kudos to them for also putting the breaks on the brutality to address serious injuries in the pit. Hopefully, it won’t be long till they’re back in the UK for a headline tour in a more intimate dive of a venue.

Finally, after a wait of about half an hour (and roughly 23 years prior to that), the big billowing Pantera curtain fell to the grinding juggernaut sound of ‘A New Level’, fulfilling a decades-long wish. From there it was a succession of much loved bangers from their back catalogue—’Mouth for War’, ‘Strength Beyond Strength’, ‘Becoming’, ‘I’m Broken’—with me singing along to the lyrics all the way. Even the bald, belligerent bellend in the audience who inexplicably tried to headbutt me and burst my eardrums with this singing (though not without pushback) couldn’t dampen my vibe. We also got some slower numbers on the setlist, like the ever popular breakup anthem ‘This Love’ (good but not as mighty as deep cut ‘Shedding Skin’, which failed to show up for the party) and the excellent ‘Floods’.

In regard to the Abbot brothers’ replacements,  sticksman Charlie Benante (last seen at the Eventim Apollo with his other famous band, Anthrax) and prolific axeman Zakk Wylde did a perfectly respectable job at filling the boots of their fallen comrades, Charlie doing an especially nice job of replicating Vinnie Paul’s machine-gun drumming for the outro of ‘By Demons Be Driven’ (played as an extended outro to ‘I’m Broken’) and Zakk nailing those classic riffs, notable examples being the breakdown of ‘Domination’ and the industrial whammy riff of ‘Becoming’. Amongst other things, a great tribute to the siblings, arguably more so than the videos played during ‘Floods’.

Phil himself sounded as robust as ever, navigating between mournful melody and bellicose brutality with the same ease and aplomb as on record. As well as on the aforementioned numbers, he did a sterling job on ‘Cowboys from Hell’, the blistering set-closer ‘Fucking Hostile’, and, of course, ‘Walk’, the band’s most popular track, testified by assorted members of the support bands plus none other than Aquaman himself, Jason Momoa, taking to the stage to help Phil sing the chorus.

In sum, a milestone gig that united fans old and new, both acknowledged between songs by Anselmo. Whatever the future holds for this iteration of the band, I’m here for it.

~MRDA~

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Deathfiend and Vultur (22/2/25, Helgi’s, London, England, UK)

Posted on 26th February 2025 by MRDA

After the semi-disaster that was the previous night’s Manson gig, Saturday night’s visit to Helgi’s was just the redress I needed. Having missed them on their first visit to the capital in June due to gig clashes, I made a point of checking out Brum black/death/crust/doom contingent Deathfiend, headed by none other than the musically prolific Mr John Pickering, a.k.a. Johnny Doom, who, among other things, has been a Facebook friend for nearly/over a decade (memory’s shot!). Prior to the start of events (which, contrary to official advertisement, had Deathfiend stepping on stage *before* the night’s other band, Sardinian black-metal outfit Vultur), we sat down for a nice, though brief, chat on politics, religion, and, of course, music. Having kept up with each other’s postings on such online, it was great to finally have an in-person chat.

It was also great to finally witness Deathfiend in their live glory too; Johnny and his bandmates—bassist Rick Farn and drummer Andrea Pisu—put on a sterling, musically tight show, playing a selection of tracks (though, sadly, not initial single ‘Beyond Life’) from their double-album discography. Favourites such as ‘Rise from Decay‘, ‘Cyclic War‘, and the crushing ‘Watch Them Crawl‘ sounded absolutely fucking stellar, Johnny’s full-throated growls and bellows playing as well with the finely honed instrumentals live as they do on record. In short, an impressive set that lived up to expectations.

Next came Vultur with 50-minutes of immersive, tremelo-picking goodness. Contrary to what I expected, the setlist was composed of material yet to be released, meaning my favourite song of theirs, ‘In the Throne of Chaos’, never got a look in. In another surprise, they had a guest frontman in the form of Piero Paranoia, the vox of London-based fellow Sardinians Cogas, who I last saw put on an impressive support slot for Nervosa a couple of years back.

Occupying the middle of the floor, he delivered the same intense performance as with his main band whilst Vultur went all out on those textured, unrelenting black-metal instrumental work, regular frontman Attalzu interjecting with the occasional vocal line. Going by tracks such as ‘Cultores lapides et lignea’, ‘Su spegu’ (dedicated, by Piero, to “Camden posers”), and ‘Umbras’, their upcoming album, Cultores de perdas e linna, could indeed be worth a gander.

So, yes, a throughly satisfying night of doom-laden death and black metal at an suitably eerie, intimate venue, enhanced all the more by a rewarding interaction with a longstanding online presence. Look forward to doing it all again, Mr Doom.

~MRDA~

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Marilyn Manson (21/2/25, Eventim Apollo, London, England, UK)

Posted on 24th February 2025 by MRDA

Somewhat fittingly for a show on the infamous Antichrist Superstar’s comeback tour, this sold-out gig was memorable for both the right and wrong reasons.

Before the main act came Gallic alt-rockers The Blackmordia, their set not exactly landing well with the assorted audience members, including one gent who tenaciously held his finger up at them for a good chunk of it. By my reckoning, they played a decent set, with a few notable numbers I’ve yet to identify, with frontman Peter Moison doing his best impression of a BDSM Jim Morrison, riding crop and lack of shirt in tow for the bulk of the set. Sadly, they kinda wore out their welcome when they played three or four more songs after declaring it was the “last chance to dance”.

It was then, in the interval between them and Manson, when things started getting *really * annoying, with a loud drunken, arm-flailing attention whore parking herself in my vicinity and chatting bollocks to any and all who’d entertain the annoying bint . Luckily, I managed to edge my way away from her, further to the front.

As expected, the main man and his band ignited the crowd, inspiring the pushes and throngs characteristic of many a
mosh. Shame the princesses I was pushed into failed to get the memo, thinking their chromosomal configuration entitled them to special immunity from the normal consequences of being on the floor of a crowded hard rock show.

Then there was the bloke christened a “fucking American cunt” by others on the floor, who insisted on barging and elbowing his way through, eventually prompting me to knock him back with a sharp dig of my own. Still, I admit to laughing when he induced frothing Trump Derangment Syndrome from the audience member who’d rechristened him by endorsing the hilarious heel of a president.

And as much as I’m not one to bemoan the use of phones at gigs, what’s with everyone filming a *landscape * (the stage) in fucking *portrait *mode? Way to obscure the view, guys.

All these elements contributed to putting a dampener on what was otherwise a triumphant comeback show for Manson after a combo of drug and alcohol abuse, lacklustre performances, attending church with Kanye West, and most notoriously, the #MeToo scandal that had him smeared as a rapist, groomer, and all-round sex abuser by his ex Evan Rachel Wood, who effectively
rallied a coven of similarly spurned exes around her for what turned out to a factually dubious legal campaign. As Manson said prior to a storming performance of ‘Disposable Teens’, “They tried to take me away from you. They tried to destroy me. But all they did was make me stronger, because I’m not fucking disposable.”

And, indeed, twas fucking great to see Mr Brian Warner back in full-throated fighting form, his phoenix-like defiance marked by a  joviality I’d not seen in him before. There was not a dodgy or lacklustre note to be heard throughout his set, during which he belted out the likes of ‘Great Big White World’, ‘The Beautiful People’, the excellent deep-cut ‘Angel with Scabbed Wings’ and the set-closing ‘Coma White’. New tracks from his most recent album, One Asssination Under God, Vol. 1, like set opener ‘Nod If You Understand’ and ‘As Sick as the Secrets Within’, got honourable airing, though much to my surprise and disappointment, he omitted ‘Raise the Red Flag’, his sterling fuck you/declaration of war against those who wished to see him bound and broken.

His band did his rejuvenated pipes much in the way of justice, most noticeably bassist Piggy D. with his hair blowing around as if he were in a L’Oreal ad and new touring axewoman Code Orange shredder and songstress Reba Myers, who added her own lungwork to the chorus of ‘MOBSCENE’.

So, yes, a superb rise from the ashes for Marilyn Manson, man and band both, however marred my experience of it was by events on the floor. If there’s a Volume 2 of OAUG in the works, here’s hoping the tour setlist for that includes more of my favourite fight songs, love songs, and stranger-killing irresponsible hate anthems from the Pale Emperor’s past alongside the new shit.

~MRDA~

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Cyndi Lauper (11/2/25, O2 Arena, London, England, UK)

Posted on 18th February 2025 by MRDA

Cyndi Lauper’s return to London last Tuesday was quite a bit different from her previous stop-off in the Big Smoke. Whilst her Royal Albert Hall show back in June was much more celebratory (with Cyndi memorably kicking off proceedings with “Let’s get this puarty started!”), last week’s “farewell” show was 25% gig, 25% “An Evening with”–style raconteurage, 25% PRIDE parade and 25% DNC convention, making for a set that added up to something other than a gig. Your mileage may vary as to whether or not that’s a good thing.

Of course, being a fan of Cyndi’s ’80s output, I, once again, enjoyed the gig. Cyndi kicking off proceedings with a video montage that exploded into genital-fondling anthem ‘She Bop’ was a nice (hur hur) touch. Other highlights included an especially impassioned vocal performance of ‘I Drove All Night’, the always pleasurable ‘Goonies’ R’ Good Enough’, and her ode to romantic solipsism ‘Change of Heart’, all these and more undercoring her much publicised vocal missteps at last year’s Glastonbury as nowt more than the effects of bad sound monitors, as was  claimed at the time. Musically, she brought the goods.

She bought more than her fair share of the goods when it came to her between-songs vocals, regaling her audience with stories of the backgrounds behind certain songs and tales of earlier times in general. Much of it I did indeed find entertaining and enlightening, but I ultimately thought she dragged out certain recollections beyond what I’d consider acceptable for something touted as a musical event. A case of too much of a good thing having a negative effect on the highlighted good thing, evident by Cyndi’s acknowledgment that she forgot to perform a song on her setlist. If she ever wanted to do a talk tour, she certainly has a wealth of material for such!

Her costume changes better gelled with proceedings, and despite Ms Lauper claiming to indulge in such to please “the gays”, my non-gay self enjoyed the spectacle, though not always for the intended reasons: sure, Cyndi nailed shoulder-padded power jackets and polka-dotted Yayoi Kusama pieces, but the half-arsed Big Bird cosplay was just baffling.

Speaking of the rainbow folk, Lauper literally, and vocally, waved the flag for them during ‘True Colors’, a song which was probably ahead of its time with its implicit appeal to solidarity and allyship. Nowt too objectionable until she made mention of the recently re-elected Trump administration “taking diversity out of the books”, one of several eyeroll-inducing statements; others centred on her advocacy for reproductive rights, with her asserting that women should hold the same autonomy over their own bodies as men, which is reasonable enough if you forget that ritual male-infant circumcision and mandatory child support are, respectively, legal and enforced (I’d tell you to ask Walter Scott about the bodily-autonomy implications of the latter were he still breathing). Once again, Cyndi  worked her groan-worthy “Girls just want to have fun-damental rights” slogan into her closing performance of ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Abor–, I Mean Fun’, demonstrating that gender solipsism is an unmistakable symptom of even the mildest forms of Trump Derangment Syndrome.

All that said, my dislike of Cyndi remains elusive; for all her culture-war cataracts (and democravenglism, small- and capital-d), her heart’s in the right place, and her brand of activism remains refreshingly free of the venom one sees elsewhere. One just wishes it was a) better informed and b) better integrated, along with her between-song banter, into what had been primarily billed as a musical event. In any case, Cyndi and her endearing Italian-American New York pluck make the low points easier to weather, as did the surprise appearance of Culture Club’s Boy George, who provided vocal assistance for the aforementioned closing number.



Furthermore, her closing words of “Seeya next chapter, guys!” suggest that her “farewell tour” may not *quite* be the last word, or note, we hear of her.

~MRDA~

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Magnum: A Tribute to Tony Clarkin (22/1/25, O2 Forum Kentish Town, London, England, UK)

Posted on 26th January 2025 by MRDA

A pretty poignant one last Tuesday as stalwart prog/AOR/hard rockers Magnum kicked off their series of memorial shows for their late guitarist, songwriter, and co-founder Tony Clarkin in London. With the band being prominent on my playlists, mainly on the strength of their 1985 banger of an album, On a Storyteller’s Night, and having missed an opportunity to see them whilst Tony was alive, I’d thought I’d go along to pay my respects, especially as the band made it sound as if it would be the last time they’d perform live.

In the end, the double-set show turned out to be a satisfying tribute to their fallen comrade, with a setlist that drew upon the breadth of their 53-year career. To my great delight, not one but four tracks from Storyteller’s Night put in an appearance,  including the stellar title track, the show-opening ‘How Far Jerusalem?’, and the uplifting ‘Just Like an Arrow’. Other highlights included the epic ‘Don’t Wake the Lion (Too Old To Die Young)’ from 1988’s Wings of Heaven, the war-is-hell anthem ‘Soldier of the Line’ from their 1982 album Chase the Dragon (which would make a great opening theme for an ’80s military anime, e.g., Armored Trooper VOTOMS), the title track of their ’86 album, Vigilante, and, going all the way back to ’78, that of their first album, Kingdom of Madness.

All those tracks and more were performed superbly by the current iteration of the band, with particular kudos going to the band’s former guitar tech Brendon Riley, who filled Clarkin’s shoes immaculately, each note sounding like Clarkin did on record. Frontman and co-founder Bob Catley brought the vocal goods too, some inconsistencies on hitting high notes aside, though there were points where he was visibly, understandably overcome with emotion regarding the untimely exit of his long-time friend and comrade in arms. For all the sadness, however, he expressed encouragement at the enthusiastic turnout for the show, even dropping the suggestion, more than once, that this tribute tour would not be the last seen of the band on stage. I, for one, hope he and the rest of the band make good on that.

~MRDA~

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Dark Funeral (7/1/25, O2 Academy Islington, London, England, UK)

Posted on 13th January 2025 by MRDA

Last Tuesday night at the Islington Academy felt like stepping into a Black Mass on account of Swedish black-metal infernalists Dark Funeral occupying the joint as part of their winter Let the Devil In tour.

They did a good job of easing their audience into the main event with the aid of their supports. First came French merchants of melodic deathcore Kami no Ikari, who kicked things off with a nice caustic bounce, the likes of ‘Interitus’  and ‘Theophobia’ laying good groundwork for the sets ahead (shame I totally overlooked the album at the merch stand!).

Then came Roman-themed Canadian melodeath squad Ex Deo—my most anticipated band of the night—who gave a great showcase of their material, clad (with the exception of drummer Oli Beaudoin) in the appropriate armour. Standouts from the set included opener ‘Imperator’, ‘Vespasian’ from their then-upcoming EP Year of the Four Emperors (which I *did* manage to grab a copy of, in advance, from the merch section), and the ferocious closer ‘Romulus’, which featured some delightful dual headbanging from bassist Dano Apekian and lead guitarist Stéphane Barbe. Frontman Maurizio Iacono put out a strong vocal performance throughout, with some impressive alterations and repetitions at certain points.

As for third and final support act Fleshgod Apocalypse, I’d only previously heard their Labyrinth album with distinctly male vocals, so I was rather surprised to see a rather Rubenesque lass step on stage with an Italian flag and start getting operatic: turned out said woman is Veronica Bordacchini, who joined up past said album’s release. Shortly, the rest of the band, including frontman Francesco Paoli, joined her to give the audience a rather extravagant set full of piano arrangements, said operatic feats, and, of course, meaty metallic instrumentals. I admit to not being especially blown away by what I’d heard of band on record, but I found their set considerably captivating nevertheless, ‘Sugar’, ‘The Fool’, and ‘Pendulum’ being notable moments.

However, Dark Funeral turned the extravagance up tenfold, taking to the stage in full Satanic splendour, frontman Heljarmadr arrived aptly cloaked for opener ‘Nosferatu’ before shedding said garm for a set emphasing both their earliest and latest material. They even added a few numbers from the points in between, such as ‘The Arrival of Satan’s Empire’, which was preceded by one of the evening’s most memorable moments, Heljarmadr leading the audience in a chant or several of “Hail Satan!”.

Musically, however, the strongest numbers were the relative slow-burn of ‘When I’m Gone’, ‘Open the Gates’ from their storming self-titled debut EP, along with ‘In the Sign of the Horns’, and the title track from their latest release, ‘Let the Devil In’ (constantly recommended to me by the YouTube algo for the past few months, but that’s another story).  Heljarmadr, the band’s fourth vocalist, sounded powerful and prominent throughout the set, and the instrumental section put on a suitably tight performance, particularly lead axeman and band founder Lord Ahriman, who, quite aptly, was a tremelo-picking demon, strumming his strings at what looked like 666 square RPM!

So, yes, a strong start to yet another year of promising gigs, many of them of a similarly genred vein—AVE FUCKING SATANAS!

~MRDA~

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Peter and the Test Tube Babies (30/12/24, New Cross Inn, London, England, UK)

Posted on 1st January 2025 by MRDA

Once again, punk stalwarts Peter and the Test Tube Babies saw the year out at the New Cross Inn in Sarf London, this time bringing along newer acts Meathook and Bamboo Vipers along for the lark.

The Vipers opened the show with a set of interestingly titled and/or themed songs such as ‘Champagne Socialist’, ‘Andrew Ridgeley Moment’, ‘New Kinky Dimension’ and the macabre Cambodian holiday brochure that’s ‘Democratic Kampuchea’. The set was all the more entertaining for frontman Shaun Morris being seemingly half cut throughout it. Sadly, they were nowhere to be seen by the time I’d acquired the cash to buy their EP; presumably, they’d gone elsewhere to get (even more) ratarsed.

Popping out to grab aforementioned cash meant I missed the start of Meathook’s set, which was a right pain in the arse as they’d kicked off with ‘No One’s Safe’, one of my favourite songs from their 2016 album Piece of Me; another is that title track, which indeed got an airing. Other standouts included ‘Fallen’, ‘Bad Day’, and the set-closing ‘Broken Bones’, all played with a ferocity and heaviness bordering on the metallic by the trio of Jay on drums, Neil on bass and backing vocals, and frontman Tat on geetars and vox. Sadly, they didn’t play ‘Two Sides’, another favourite of mine, though that’s understandable, considering they’d have had to have yanked guest vocalist Johnny Doom, of Deathfiend and Police Bastard fame, down from Brum for the full effect. Shoutout to Sarah on the merch stand for sorting me out a free English Dogs album, featuring Tat on bass, with my Piece of Me CD.

Tat, ever prolific, once again assumed bass duties as one of Peter’s Test Tube Babies.

As ever, the set featured many a favourite track, with the likes of ‘The Jinx’, ‘Spirit of Keith Moon’, ‘Never Made It’, ‘Every Second Counts’, and sweary singalong ‘None of Your Fucking Business’ making welcome appearances. Less setlist-familar additions included anti-marriage anthem ‘Unlucky Day’, a cover of Focus’ ‘Livewire’, and the sexploits of ‘Oral Annie’, always up for a “five-man deal”. Banter was as abundant as the setlist, Peter and drummer Sam Fuller once again delivering the bulk of it, and I managed to pick up the latest solo venture by lead guitarist Del “Strangefish” Greening too.

In short, another great year-closing gig from Peter and his miscreants (though one with a younger, rowdier crowd than usual). Always a pleasure, and I’m sure this year’s upcoming won’t break the cycle on that account.

~MRDA~

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