Bar the hassle of having to queue on Camden’s high street for an hour, subject to all the annoying passers-by, Thursday night was pretty no-nonsense as far as gigs go: two crossover-thrash acts from two different sides of the pond tearing it up at the Electric Ballroom, namely Dallas’ Power Trip and London’s own Inhuman Nature. Having seen each of them just months prior, I knew what to expect from each of them, and both delivered in a no-frills, no fuss way.
Inhuman Nature stepped up first, vocalist Chris Barling once again inciting chaos with invocations to open up circle pits inbetween the likes of ‘Take Them by Force’, ‘Carnivorous Lunar Activities’, ‘Beyond the Realms of Sanity’, and ‘Dead and Buried’. Notably, bassist Daragh Markham chimed in too, bookending ‘Lines in the Sand II’ with cries of “Free Palestine!” Overall, it was another solid set that maintained the standard I’d seen in previous shows, worthy of a fistbump on the way out.
Headliners Power Trip also maintained the momentum of and the standard set by their support slot for Pantera back in February. The gnarly opening riff for ‘Soul Sacrifice’ easily elicited a mean-mugging headbang from me, the groove and chant of ‘Executioner’s Tax (Swing of the Axe)’ was as addictive as ever, and the ‘Hornet’s Nest’ certainly set audiences, and the circle pits therein, abuzz. Other highlights included ‘Drown’, dedicated to late founding vocalist Riley Gale, the finely tuned ‘Heretic’s Fork’, and the pre-encore closer ‘Waiting Around to Die’, which certainly didn’t “fuck with the dead”. However, it was ‘Crossbreaker’, the blistering encore shred of thrashphemy, that left the strongest impact on me, having had it as an earworm since first hearing it earlier in the day—sterling stuff.
In short, despite some pre-gig frustration, Thursday night turned out to be a helluva Trip.
Wednesday night’s Nine Inch Nails gig was one much anticipated, given that I hadn’t seen Trent and co. live since 2007 and had to fight the AXS algo like hell to wrest a ticket from its maw. As such, I was piqued for this live reacquaintance, and I made a point of getting down there early enough to grab my merch and, if possible, a spot at the front; on the latter front, being on the mobile network sponsoring the venue helped me out immensely, what with me scoring in the spot in the Blueroom for comfier waiting and early entry. Result!
Upon entry, and marching toward the barrier, I met with the sight of a veiled square at the centre of the floor, presumably the “B-stage” I’d read about prior, the literal centrepiece for this tour. After an hour’s wait, it blared out the sound of clubhouse electronica, which I took to be the preamble to the support act, German act Boys’ Noize.
Then five minutes passed, then ten, then twenty…
…during which time, I realised my error, as well as half the audience staring at the still-shrouded block as if it were the Kaaba. In other words, the long, loud Boys Noize support set resembled a Meccan pilgrimage with less in the way of tragicomically fatal godridden stampedes. Inshallah!
Shortly after that came to an end, the music resumed, an actual preamble this time, building, intensifying, toward a crescendo. And then fell the shrouds, revealing the sight of Trent at a piano in its wake. Cue ‘Right Where It Belongs’, with the Rez showcasing his clean, melodic lungwork—still got it!
From there began a show that saw Reznor and co transition from one stage to another with little in the way of hassle. Of course, the highlights for me lay on the main stage, where the band knocked out a procession of bangers, highlights including a blistering ‘Wish’, the beautifully brutal blasphemy of ‘Heresy’, the serrating-to-serene speed trip that is ‘March of the Pigs’, ‘Head Like a Hole’, the song that placed them firmly on the map, and the Johnny Cash–appropriated closer ‘Hurt’.
There was also everyone’s industrial-rock freak anthem ‘Closer’, a watered-down B-stage rendition of unofficial egoist anthem ‘Only’ peformed in collaboration with Boys Noize, which had me yearning for the less bridled original, and a rendition of Downward Spiral seether ‘Reptile’ that I’ve termed the ‘Glitch, Please’ remix on account of the static overlay employed and Trent’s mic giving out on him during performance, unexpectedly promoting guitarist Robin Finck to vocal duties (As Trent lamented afterwards, “The world’s most complicated lightshow, but a fucking mic cable takes us out.”)
Technical issues also interfered with the show later, prompting more humour-laced laments from Trent; ultimately however these issues amounted to glitches, rather than fatal errors, in the machine, which for the most part chugged along brilliantly. I could lament the many favourites that weren’t played, but with a band like Nine Inch Nails it’s pretty much inevitable that many a favourite will be left off the setlist of any given show one might see. As things stand, this was a sterling live reintroduction to a band that continues to occupy a firm place in my musical cosmology (even if I fell off after Year Zero).
My bank holiday, and half-birthday, gig had been a much anticipated one for me. Having first seen The Sisters of Mercy back in 2023, I’d been looking forward to a follow-up, especially in light of talk and footage indicating that frontman Andrew Eldritch’s live vocals had improved considerably since then. Then came the announcement of yet another two-nighter at the venue at which I’d previously seen them, the Roundhouse, followed, once again, by my purchase of a ticket for the second of those nights and the successive countdown of months, weeks, days….
Come the day of truth, I arrived outside the venue with anticipation and a playlist in tow; the latter, discographically ordered, arrived at their second album, Floodland, the grand opener of ‘Dominion/Mother Russia’ surging through my wires….
….and then it happened. Upon the cry of 🎵MOTHER RUSSIA, MOTHER RUSSIA, MOTHER RUSSIA, RAIN DOWN, DOWN, DOWN! 🎵, the heavens pissed down their payload, carrying on through the next track on the album, the aptly titled ‘Flood I’, before trickling to a halt at its end. Eerily timely. At least it wasn’t nukes.
Shortly after entering the venue and securing my barrier spot, I had the pleasure of finally meeting long-time Facebook mate Keith Harvey, AKA Mirai Intelligensia, attending with a friend of his who, going by convo, was more of a fan than he was. Twas good to talk in person with him about Laibach, Jim Davidson, and the Front 242 gig we both attended sans knowledge of each other’s presence till after the fact, amongst other things, even if my joke about the night’s anaemic support act failed to land.
Elaborating on said support act, Oversize, have to be the blandest support act I’ve seen in a long, long time, if not ever. Hailing from the Southwest of England, the band play a type-of Deftones-infused radio rock, that reminded me why Deftones, despite having some notable bangers, never really took with me. Mind you, I’d much rather be listening to the entire Deftones discography than whatever Oversize put out, forgettable, mushy, dirgy college rock that seems to lurch from track to indistinguishable track. Listening at home, I couldn’t find a single track that made a distinctive impression, and the live set exacerbated, rather than alleviate, that sense stultifying sameness, outstaying its welcome with me by, well, a whole setlist. Given that, the fact that their latest album, and a track therefrom, is called Vital Signs perversely apt as I struggled to detect mine throughout the duration of their set. Still, they got some applause, including from the chick standing by my side of the stage with a camera, so different strokes and all that. I won’t begrudge them their fans, even if I’m not among their number.
After merciful release from the damage done came the wait for the main event, during which, the bloke next to me managed to get a half-decent shot of the setlist. Having seen setlists from the most recent preceding shows online, I’d abandoned my hope for a 40th-anniversary commemoration of First and Last and Always, their first album, and expected little in the way of surprise: maybe the same tossed bone from that album (either the title track or ‘Marian’), a set dominated by the most popular Floodland and Vision Thing cuts and, of course, the live-exclusive numbers conceived since those albums, unrecorded and unreleased to this day. I’d enjoy the selection whilst expecting each track to fall where it usually fell.
Imagine my shock, when I saw ‘Lucretia, My Reflection’ placed as the *opener *, the appearance of ‘Flood II’, a deeper Floodland cut, and ‘Giving Ground’, a firm favourite from the Eldritch-supervised splinter project The Sisterhood (played the last time I saw them), on the night’s setlist! Though I couldn’t make out everything from the bloke’s picture, there was yet another very pleasant surprise in store for me during the set to come.
Shortly after, the current iteration of Sisters took to the stage: Chris Catalyst, current operator of the infamous Doktor Avalanche; bassist Ben Christo, whom I’d last seen in Diamond Black, supporting Esprit D’Air on their 2024 tour; Kai, vocalist of the latter band (and my main focal point of the evening being positioned nearest the stage to me), on guitar, prompting the thought that Espirit would’ve been a much better support act than that which actually placed on the bill; and, of course, the main man himself, Andrew “Von” Eldritch, surveying the audience with a Nosferatic solemnity.
With ‘Lucretia’ kicking off proceedings, I braced in anticipation for Andrew’s vox. Would I be “treated” to emphysemic grandad doing karaoke again?
Then it came, bigger, bolder, and stronger than 2023:
🎵I hear the roar of the big machine. …🎵
Indeed!
Now this is not to say that Andrew returned to his ’80s glory with his voxwork that night, but, all the same, the difference between his performance then and back in 2023 registered as stark as that between night and day—a *substantial* fucking improvement! Instead of emphysemic croaks, we got a more sustained snarl and snap, a spark of reignited vitality, from the belly of the beast. Just as noted and seen in forums and footage elsewhere, much to my relief.
Some of this vitality may well be down to the introduction of the aforementioned Kai to the mix. As well as helping out, along with Ben, on backing vocals, he held his own formodably on guitarist, at select moments whirling and striding around the stage like a human dynamo. A sterling addition, much like his friend and brother-in-arms Ben. As for Chris, he did a solid job keeping the good Doktor humming along.
Setlist-wise, highlights included the aforementioned ‘Giving Ground and ‘Flood II’, the earlier rainmaker ‘Dominion/Mother Russia’, ‘Alice’, live-exclusive favourites ‘Don’t Drive on Ice’, ‘But Geniveve’, and ‘When I’m on Fire’, and the closing one-two punch of ‘Vision Thing’ and ‘This Corrosion’ (the latter introduced by Andrew with a verbal wink: “It’s that time!”).
But the moment that made my entire fucking night was when they saw fit to grace the audience with that one First and Last and Always number: not the title track or ‘Marian’ but ‘A Rock and a Hard Place’, one of my absolute favourites from that cracking album, eliciting a full-throated “FUCK, YEAH!” from me—result! I may not have gotten that album anniversary set, but that was one helluva silver lining.
In short, a cracking show, marked by revitalising additions, setlist blinders, and vocal redemptions. Speaking of the latter, if Andrew doesn’t capitalise on his current line-up and vocal form to record and release those live-bound numbers, he’s missing out on the opportunity of opportunities.
Since checking out the first three albums in their discography, I’d been eagerly, eagerly waiting for a chance to see Portland “black magick” speedsters Bewitcher on stage, and on Saturday night, it finally arrived, in all its full-throated, riff-coated glory, and not without some formidable support too.
UK thrashers Fracture Point, who I last saw supporting Solitary back in 2023, kickstarted the evening’s revelries with a short, sharp, solid set, showcasing notables such as anti-aspersion anthem ‘Cast the First’ stone yet leaving their self-titled theme tune off the list—for shame! Still, they were generous enough to gift me a free EP at the night’s end, so I can’t complain too much.
After their storming Incineration set last year, I’d been looking forward to seeing Derby’s finest blackened speed demons Devastator tearing shit up here once again, and, indeed, once again, they set the same venue ablaze, scorching the stage with such tracks as ‘Black Witchery’, ‘Worship the Goat’, ‘Spiritual Warfare’, and their first album’s sterling title track, ‘Baptised in Blasphemy’. I especially appreciated how they bookended their set with a pair of wiccan-themed numbers, opening with ‘Walpurgisnacht’ and closing with a neat cover of Venom’s ‘Witching Hour’. Between-song antics were kept to a minimum this time, though frontman Thomas Collins made a point of brandishing his huge fuck-off (not a euphemism) at the start and end of the set. Vocally and instrumenally, he and the rest of the band were unrelentlingly on point with the Black Heart’s sound desk doing full justice to their efforts. In short, their best set yet, outdoing even that for last year’s Incineration Fest. Next time they return to the Big Smoke, let it be as a headline act.
Bewitcher matched the standard set by the preceding act, cribbing a rather well curated selection of choice tracks from their four-album discography. Highlights for me included the hard-driving ‘Too Fast for the Flame’, second-album title track ‘Under the Witching Cross’, newer number ‘Out Against the Law’, the succubic ‘Sin Is in Her Blood’, and the one I’d especially looked forward to hearing, ‘Rome Is on Fire’ (with its memorable “AVE, AVE, CALIGULA/AVE, AVE, NERO!” closing refrain—🎵IRON FIST, 666! 🔥🎵) Between the two of them, frontman Unholy Weaver of Shadows & Incantation, AKA Matt Litton, and bassist Infernal Magus of Nocturnal Alchemy, AKA Andy Mercil, did a fine job of inciting, and appreciating, the throng of the audience between songs. With sticksman Aris Wales, they did a fucking great job of inciting such with the material itself, bringing the studio frenzy to the stage without an issue. A first-class set and one I hope I won’t have to wait six years to hear the like of again.
It was also great to finally have a chat with fellow thrash-appreciator Chris Parker and to say hi to fellow black metal—enjoyer Anne Cremin, both of whom I’d been keeping up with on social media. A nice added bonus to a sterling show.
Downstairs at the Dome was hit by a quirky new wave last Saturday thanks to Lene Lovich and her plucky band. They were heralded, once again, by Anglo–Argentinian electropoppers SHH and by an act hitherto unknown to me, percussion-heavy goth-hymnalists The Gospel.
SHH stepped up first, as before when I saw them support Lovich at the Lexington back in 2023, frontwoman Diana Huerte, dressed like I imagine Ann Sterzinger would be were she a rock star, belting out her electro numbers to the keystrokes of partner Robert Heller. Opening confidently with the aptly titled ‘Big It Up’, the two sung, played, and danced the audience through a half-hour showcase of love, lust, and longing in the big city, and, in the case of Diana, even gave me a verbal nod between songs. The likes of ‘City Life’, ‘Sleepless’, and ‘Wonderful Night’ sparkle with an understated synth sheen to underscore the longing sentiments expressed, and the one song I remembered the title of, ‘Do What I Say (or Die)’, added a bit of playful audacity to the mix (as did some of the on-screen animations playing throughoutbthe set!). Twas nice to see them again and to chat to Diana at the night’s end.
Next up came The Gospel, the aptly named troupe described by one nearby member of the audience as “Nic Cave and his five girlfriends”. I remember someone I was once close to likening gigs to vectors of/substitutes. for worship, and she’d have been right in her element with this lot! Jimmy Sweet and his hypothesised harem croon, chant, and chorus their way through some decidedly hymnal-sounding numbers, the instrumental section being especially dominated by the percussive efforts of two members, flanking Sweet instead of being placed in the background per typical drummer tradition. Indeed, after seeing one-time children’s telly star Danielle McCormack (looking strikingly youthful for someone born in ’83!) pummelling away at her kit, I can see why she wanted to ensure that fucker was well and truly secured prior to the set. Special kudos also goes to their new keyboardist for making her onstage presence known in an effective way, particularly on closing track ‘The Pills’. Prior to that number, opener ‘Burning Like a Fever’, the soaring ‘The Only One’, and their cover of Madonna’s ‘Like a Prayer’ stood out, the latter particularly for shifting away from the double-entendre tone of the original to something more aligned with their liturgical vibe. A memorable introduction, even if I wonder if their modus operandi might become a bit repetitive on record.
As for Lene herself, in her headline slot, she once again shines in all of her kooky, quirky glory, maybe even brighter than the last time I saw her. With a setlist chocka full of hits and notables from her first three album, she and her band nailed each and every one of them with the fidelity they warranted, keeping the energy on a constant high throughout. Whether stopping off at the ‘Blue Hotel’, demanding a ‘New Toy’, saxing it up during ‘Monkey Talk’, or decrying the overabundance of “useless martyrs” along the ‘Rocky Road’, Lovich pays time due gratitude for being kind to her lungs, her voice still standing formidable and versatile enough to do said songs justice; her band, once again including Stan Greenwood of Ghost Dance/Skeletal Family fame on guitars, translate their strong rapport with Lene and each other into a performance that honours the new-wave glory of the material, steering clear of any diluting updates. As such ‘The Writing on the Wall’ remained legible and a pleasure to read, the sword of ‘Joan’ remained sharp, and the ‘Angels’ soared with fully feathered wings, with nary a scrimp on the ‘Details’.
So, yes, sterling set, and one that outdid their previous London outing at that. Hopefully, Lene and the gang will see fit to include material from beyond the “Toy Box” years the next time they pass through the big smoke: hearing ‘Make-Believe’ live would blow my mind! Still, the reality of things so far has been nowt to cry about.
I almost bailed on seeing Go West at the London Palladium, two Thursdays ago, partly on account of one of the vocalists, Richard Drummie, having to sit out proceedings due to illness Almost.
In the end, I’m glad I didn’t.
Johnny Hate Jazz put on a nice little support set, standouts being ‘Don’t Say It’s Love’ and, of course, their highest-profile single ‘Shattered Dreams’. Nice work from Clark Datchler and co.
As for Go West, they, too, put out a strong set, aided by the Southbank Sinfonia orchestra, not suffering too much for Richard’s absence. Peter Cox and co did bangers such as ‘Don’t Look Down’, ‘Faithful’, ‘Call Me’, ‘King of Wishful Thinking’, and their most prominent single, and my personal money shot of the night, ‘We Close Our Eyes’ more than adequate justice. The presence of Kelly Barnes, who I usually see on stage as part of Heaven 17, on backing vocals was a nice little personal touch.
So, yeah, a top show despite the absence of a key member, not to mention the absence of two of my favourite first-album deep cuts, ‘Haunted’ and ‘Innocence’. Perhaps this would’ve been even better with a full playthough of said album, given it’s its 40th anniversary and all.
May’s series of gigs kicked off last fortnight with some crossover-thrash brutality courtesy of London upstarts Inhuman Nature, who commenced their Greater Than Death tour with a hometown release show for their album of the same name. Having seen them tear the roof off of the Black Heart alongside High Command back in 2023, I wanted to see if they’d put on a similarly eruptive and relentless show as sole headliners.
Before the answer to that question, however, came a trio of support acts.
First to take to the stage was Under the Ashes, their brand of gritty, dirt-under-the-fingernails death metal already being familiar to me, having previously paid their Bandcamp a visit. That said, their setlist contained a considerably higher number of tracks than the two released on said platform, which ultimately made sense given that these were numbers from their upcoming album, Sacrifices Heaped. If the quality of the showcased songs is anything to go by, it could be one to pick up, the yet-to-be-released material like ‘Shadows on a Wall’, ‘Circling Above’, and the album’s title track stacking up indominatably next to current releases ‘Deus Vult’ and ‘Flash of Light’. A very strong opening set that left me all the more disappointed that I’ll miss their upcoming Helgi’s album-release show due to a date with the Dethklok.
Next came Warpstormer, certainly the most off-script band of the night due to its more colourfully psychedelic doom sound (which makes me wonder if they’ll be supporting Pentagram in July). In any case, they too hit the mark in terms of impact and engagement, frontman Richard J. Morgan full-throated fags-and-booze vocals doing full justice to his bandmates’ more-than-adept instrumental chops. Numbers like ‘Oracle’, ‘Beyonder’, and ‘A Liar’s Crown’ teem with that fuzzy, groovy driving energy that characterises the best examples of their chosen subgenre. Hopefully, I’ll see the South Londoners on stage again sometime in the near future (namely, Pentagram).
Next up came a return to theme with Brummie crossover thrashers Nerve Agent, delivering a brutal seat that set off the first circle pits of the night. The set was also characterised by the continual back-and-forth pacing of vocalist Dan Warren, only occasionally pausing to spit and bellow out the lyrics to such venom-marinated morsels as ‘Government-Issued Violence’, ‘State Control’, and their EP’s title track, ‘Game of Death’, belligerent bangers all. A viciously effective final prelude to the headlining act.
And, indeed, Inhuman Nature put on a set worthy of the slot, showcasing new material like set opener ‘Possessed to Die’, ‘Lines in the Sand, Part II’, and the set-closing ‘Dead and Buried’ with established favourites such as ‘Take Them by Force’, ‘Carnivorous Lunar Activities’, and ‘Taste of Steel’. Frontman Chris Barling, who I’d bought merch off before the start of the night’s events, was less of the night-and-day, Jekyll-and-Hyde presence than he was at the Black Heart show, his onstage intensity punctuated by pauses for song intros and shout-outs, particularly to his mum (who was at the event) and to his aunt who’d gotten him into metal via a certain Black Album. So less the wrathful, unrelenting force of nature and more the spirited but grateful frontman letting his humanity breathe between the brutality, the latter palpably amplified by the formidable crash and chug of guitars and percussion provided by the rest of the band.
Speaking of brutality, there’s nowt quite like getting cannonballed by a stagediver toward the end of the night’s last song, with one’s glasses being knocked off and mangled in the pit as a result. My restorative visit to the optician the next day was certainly interesting!
I’d twisted them somewhat back into recognisable shape beforehand.
So yes, another memorable night Downstairs at the Dome, though not for uniformly good reasons this time.
The first show in the Cosmic Insurrection tour on the month’s penultimate Wednesday was the perfect cap-off to my distinctly black-metal April of gigs.
At least that’s what I’m typing in another universe, where things didn’t go arse over tit.
It started off strongly enough with Vestia, last seen taking to the stage in support of Taake just weeks prior, once again opening the show. Although the Black Heart’s smaller stage prevented guitarist Giannis from exhibiting the full abandon he did at the Underworld, he and the rest of the band knocked out another tight set, playing a few familiars (‘Unknown Goddess’, ‘Hex’) plus a newer track, ‘Spirit of Elysium’, which turned out to be the highlight of the too-short four-song set.
Vorga, by contrast, went on for a bit too long. I dug the Teutonic “cosmic black metallers” bringing an industrial aesthetic into proceedings, the members of the band looking like they’d stopped off at Cyberdog a bit further down the road before the show. I also dug tracks like ‘Starless Sky’ and ‘Comet’, the latter, especially, being a highlight of the set for me. The problem was that the standout tracks mainly came from their first album, Striving Towards Oblivion, their follow-up, and latest, Beyond the Palest Star, striking me as rather bland and unengaging by comparison. In the end, after the peak of (the sadly unrecorded) ‘Comet’, the ensuing tracks, mostly from the latest, make for an outstayed welcome. Least I’ll be able to capture the ‘Comet’ when I see them again as part of August’s Doomsday Fest in Brighton.
Then came my biggest draw—and biggest disappointment—of the night.
Having seen Sidious deliver a strong support set for Woe at the same venue back in October, I’d looked forward to another blast of their UKBM brutality, minus the sound mix issues that impeded them last time. The fact that, contrary to official promo, they were the night’s highest-billed band only added to the anticipation.
As such, the announcement, by guitarist Indomitus (Steffan Gough), that vocalist Isfeth (Mark Antoniades) wouldn’t be performing due to a “personal emergency” (hope all is well) was quite the deflation. Sure, the decision for the rest of the band to play a five-track instrumental set was heartening, and Indomitus and co. played their bollocks off with precision and panache, no less, but the absence of Isfeth came across with favourites like opener ‘Blood-Soaked Mist’ and ‘Thy Place Yond the Threshold’. It especially came across with new number ‘Blooodlust Command Infinite’, a blisterer of a track that, at times, ventures into Aussie blackened thrash territory, borrowing some of the bounce and jaunt from Down Under–originated acts like Deströyer 666, Assaulter, Razor of Occam et al, making it all the more disappointing the frontman wasn’t present to showcase its full potential. Guess I’ll have to wait till next year, when the upcoming album and subsequent tour breaks forth.
In short, the London start of the Cosmic Insurrection was a potentially promising one marred by two shortened sets, one stretched-out one, and the unpredictability of emergency. The best laid plans of mice and men….
Good Friday: the perfect day to bear witness to the Suicide of God, not on the hills of Golgotha, mind you, but in the maw of Hackney, more specifically, Helgi’s, which paid host to black-metal triple bill headlined by military-history enthusiasts Stahlsarg. Support-wise, Scottish occultists Nyctopia and Final Dose splinter Coldfall bolstered the ranks.
Shortly after partaking in my usual Helgi’s ritual of downing a pint and crisps, and subsequently relieving myself in their immaculately porn-wallpapered bogs (aptly described as “Narnia for degenerates” by Adorior’s Jaded Lungs), the night kicked off with Coldfall’s performance.
Formed by two fifths of blackened-punk band Final Dose, this duo’s setup counts as one of those rare times that I’ve seen a drummer (Brian Fusco, the mastermind behind both bands) also assume vocal duties, co-vocals, more accurately, sharing such with Jack Thompson, who also took up tremolos. Their “primitive dreg black metal” made for a nice strong opening blast, serving up the no-nonsense frenetic immersion with tracks such as ‘Abyss’, ‘Fog of Darkness’, and ‘Beholden with Flies’. Good stuff indeed.
Nyctopia, who I’d been looking forward to seeing after hearing their album, Full Moon Calling, served up a rather distinctive and memorable set. First came the guest vocalist, friend of the band Merry, who provided additional lungwork for main man Nechtan (David Henderson) on two of the band’s strongest tracks, ‘Malleus Maleficarum (Witch Hunt)’ and their cover of the controversial, absolutely treif band Grand Belial’s Key’s ‘Shem Ham Forash’ (“SO IT IS DONE!”)….
…then came Kamile, Nechtan’s ladyfriend, who enthralled the audience with an elaborate fire dance during ‘Signa Stellarum Negarum’, which I regret not recording at least partially.
There was also guest bassist Nico, frontman of Brighton black metallers Aklash, with whom I had an illuminating conversation sparked by shared Necro Ritual apparel prior to the set. Drummer Telsus provided a solid rhythm section (and, in post-gig corrospondence, names and setlists—cheers for that!), and Netchan, grasping the mic and the axe proved to be an effective storyteller as well as musician, introducing songs with an eye to the century set. My only gripe, and it’s minor, is almost half the set being composed of covers (Death in June’s ‘Little Black Angel’ and a nice one of Darkthrone’s ‘Funeral Moon’, as well as the aforementioned GBK number). Hope to see them again soon, hopefully headlining.
Next came Stahlsarg and a near-immediate sense of disappointment when I saw an absence of tracks from their excellent first album, Comrades in Death, on the setlist—the only printed one(s) of the night—which was instead dominated by a selection of tracks from their second outing, their Suicide of God EP, and their upcoming third full-length. Still, this disappointment was significantly mitigated by the sheer ferocity and dynamism of the performance, with frontman Jhorn (John Hirst) seemingly caught on the faultline between possession and exorcism, lunging, bounding and lurching across the stage with insistent fury, his performance further intensified by the moments of rapport with guitarist Kevin Smey (my main point of dialogue with the band that night). Setlist-wise, highlights included new track ‘Void’, ‘Darkness, My Accomplice’ from the Suicide of God EP, and ‘Burn and Destroy’ from their second album, Mechanisms of Misanthropy, which managed the rare feat of rousing a moshpit at a black-metal gig (a point I raised with Horn after the set to his own amazed agreement), and the even rarer feat of inspiring me to jump in! A tightly performed, kinesthetically memorable set, in summation. Hopefully, there’ll be more CoD material to make it even better next time.
But this gig was not only memorable for its performers but those in audience attendance, with a few recurring faces, most notably Bartuk (Bartosz Jaszsczyszyn), last seen on stage with both Sturmtiger and Inhumanization at Subterranean Manifestation. Turns out, by his account, the “pagan pussyhole Nazi” jibe thrown by Cam from Gorgon Vomit was aimed at *him*—as opposed to randoms wearing Burzum, Peste Noir, or, indeed, Grand Belial’s Key shirts, as I’d first assumed—for allegedly throwing a sieg-heil during the Inhumanization set. Looking back on my footage from that day, all I see are gestures for applause rather than contentious Elon Musk moments, and if my interactions with the band, Bartuk included, are anything to go by, they’re the worst neo-Nazis ever.
Saturday the 12th of April not only marked the day the “Unholy Trinity” of Behemoth, Satyricon, and Rotting Christ, descended upon London’s Brixton Academy but also the first time I’d been to the venue since it reopened a year ago, following the Big Bumrush of 2022 and its ensuing fatalities, not to mention the first time I’d been there in three years full stop. So, yeah, despite the long slog to get there and its location, I’ve missed the venue, and what better reason to return than for a triple bill of black(ened) metal?
That said, this was pretty much a case of one band being *much* more of a draw for me than others, and not the headline band at that. I’m talking about the mighty Satyricon, slap bang in the middle of the bill. As well as enjoying their discography a considerable amount, I’d previously been impressed by their Download set back in 2006, a definite standout on that bill even with only four songs. This one went several songs better, with the likes of ‘Black Crow on a Tombstone’, ‘To the Mountains’, ‘Deep Calleth upon Deep’, and, to my greatest pleasure, ‘Repined Bastard Nation’. Satyr and co put on a blinding show, belting out these favourites with the prowess and powerful I remember from that short Download set. Satyr especially sounded chuffed to be back in the Brixton after a quarter of a century, remarking on it as the best looking venue he’s played at. Here’s hoping he and the band take a tenth of that time to return for a much more fitting headline show.
Prior to Satyricon, Rotting Christ opened the show with their brand of true Hellenic black metal, garnering considerable elation from the audience for the first act on the bill. At first, I wasn’t that taken with the numbers chosen for the setlist, partly because I’m still getting acquaintanced with this band in a general sense with nothing quite hitting consistently when it comes to private listening. However, things picked up considerably toward the end of the set with the tracks ‘Non Serviam’, ‘Grandus Spiritus Diavolos’, and a cover of Thou Art Lord’s ‘Sociatas Satanas’. A momentum-building, ultimately satisfying intro to the night.
As for the headliners, I will first and foremost commend them for knowing how to put on a fucking show! After the, by their own admission, slightly neutered Lordi show at the Islington Academy just days prior, it was great to see a band playing at a venue unafraid to let its guest performers go wild, and Behemoth delivered fully on that count with costumes, pagentry, and pyrotechnics galore.
Musically, I do find their overall catalogue to be quite hit and miss, despite admiring frontman Nergal’s unerring ability to make Christoids cry, especially those at the helm in his home country of Poland; their brand of blackened death is better executed more consistently by the likes Belphegor and Necrophobic, who both maintain a recognisable sound without descending into the sameness that often plagues Behemoth on record.
That said, the setlist served as a pretty decent cribbing of their most memorable and distinctive numbers plus some newer numbers from their upcoming Shit ov God album. Highlights included opener ‘The Shadow Elite’, the epic, soaring ‘Ora Pro Nobis Lucifer’, the pummelling menace of ‘Ov Fire and the Void’, the apocalyptic riffage of ‘Chant for Eschaton 2000’, and the set-closing infernal hymnal ‘O Father, O Satan, O Sun’. I also found it amusing that of all songs, the much maligned title track of the upcoming album got some the loudest applause and fanfare of the night.
An unholy trinity indeed, and a welcome return to a much missed venue to boot! My only major regret? Not getting much closer to the stage.
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