Subterranean Manifestation IV (29/3/25, Downstairs at the Dome, London, England, UK)

Posted on 3rd April 2025 by MRDA

Saturday’s shenanigans were certainly memorable for multiple reasons.

Where to start? I suppose the beginning’s as good a place as any.

I was kinda worried when the opening time for the fourth Subterranean Manifestation arrived with no doors opening. Not that doors not opening on time is an unprecedented gig-going event (hello, Underworld and Islington Academy!), but seeing as this was an eight-band event, I started to wonder if one or several of them had taken an abrupt leave of the bill, which would’ve be in line of the series of dropouts/replacements leading up to the day of truth.

Anyway, after an extra 35-minute wait, the doors opened, and in I went, wondering if the lapse would have knock-on effects.

All started off well, however, with Polish blackened death troupe Inhumanization setting the tone for the day’s proceedings. Air-raid sirens introduced the menacing ‘March of the Burnt Spirits’, the first song on their setlist, a dirgier number than others in their catalogue. Nevertheless, the throat bellows of PanzerSpekktr and distinctive guitar tones of PanzerKkunt (AKA Mateo Zabawa, last seen by me as part of Black Altar, supporting Carpathian Forest at the Underworld) remained a constant throughout this and the more immediately, relentlessly aggressive numbers like ‘Cold Steel Jaws’ and the storming ‘All Hail Fear!’. A strong start, with not a setlist song skipped.

The knock-on effect of (and possible reason for) the late start started to take effect with the next band, war metallers Sturmtiger. I was disappointed to see that my two favourite tracks from their inventory, ‘War Is Eternal’ and ‘The Baron’, were absent from the setlist, only to hear that the planned half-hour set would be trimmed down by ten minutes; however, in something of a pleasant surprise, none other than Corseth/Rob from Necro Ritual balaclavaed up to assume last-minute vocal duties for the set, the band’s normal vox, PB, AKA Petr Alexandrovich Burov, being, according to Rob, “stuck in Russia” (perhaps the reason for the entry delay?). From my vantage point, I thought he did a respectable job given the circumstances, unlike the sound mixers, who turned gasmasked bassist SB’s instrument of choice so high up in the mix for opening track ‘Armoured Spearhead’, I started to wonder if I was listening to a war-metal remix of the Seinfeld soundtrack! Things got fixed toward the set’s end, however, with numbers like the excellent ‘Imperium’ getting the chance to make their intended mark.

Next up came bestial death-metallers Gorgon Vomit, who I’d first and last seen leading the opening strike for Diocletian at the Cart and Horses last year. A lot’s changed since then, with new albums and collabs added to their discography, plus some interesting unreleased numbers like ‘Melted’ and ‘Slew Dem’, which both made appearances on the setlist alongside more familiarly feral favourites like ‘Evangelise Satan’ and ‘Vomit ‘Pon the Icon’. Unfortunately, the late running of the proceedings had the band skipping over many a song on their scrawled setlists, eventually culminating in the sound team cutting the set short (much to the vocal displeasure of a Certain Member of the Audience, who I’ll return to later). Nevertheless, the band succeeded at leaving an impression, and not just with the tracks that made the cut: frontman Black Mane, AKA Cameron, brought his characteristic banter to the stage, taking a jab at the “pagan pussyhole Nazis” assembled in the audience; bassist (and ubiquitous gig presence) Diabolical Mocker, AKA Daniel, gave the audience some characterful low-end licks, approaching dub territory at certain points, very much in keeping with Cameron’s patois patter; Ballistik Undying Master, AKA Francis, showed no mercy to his skins and cymbals; and it was great to see axeman Omar shredding on both feet after his leg mishap last time.

Things took a turn for the better in terms of set times from the following set onwards, with Belgian black metallers Heinous being allowed to play out their full set, which was just as well given that it was a definite standout of the whole night. This was especially welcome as they’d grabbed my attention the least out of all the bands on the bill in terms of studio output, however the tight, precise performances from bullet-bonced frontman P.F Hraesvelg (Thibault Lampe) and his instrumental section (some of whom’ll show up on stage again later in the night) sounded sterling, with full-throated shrieks, tumultuous tremolo riffs and ballistic blastbeats. Especially standout moments included ‘Last Days of the Apostates’ (during which, I caught the attention of that Certain Member of the Audience I mentioned earlier) and ‘Seven Sins of the Light’, great examples of why this set persuaded me to give their discography another shot.

French *mort noir* merchants Vortex of End weren’t too shabby either, presenting a sliver of their black catalogue to the audience in formidable fashion.  Set opener ‘Perdition Whorl’, ‘Transvbstantiation’, with its vocal interjections from bassist ÖberKommander666 (Youenn), and penultimate track ‘Fvlgvr.Lvx.Terror’ did the band especially proud. Vocalist-axeman NGH (who’d show up in the next set in a purely instrumental role) made a memorable work of blending wailing vocals in amongst the expected blackened shrieks, lending some extra character to his lungwork.

Speaking of whom, the latter took to the stage in purely instrumental role as part of Italian-originated infernalists Fides Inversa, who put on an absolutely fucking ferocious set that showcased but a fragment of their formidable back catalogue. Prolific frontman Wraath lived up to his *nom de guerre* staring down the audience with a stern, steely gaze very much in tune with the material showcased and taking to the stage’s edge to engage with those further back in the crowd, his flailing of the mic stand threatening to twat me in the face at certain points. Especially strong numbers were arresting opener ‘Pillars of the Adversary’ and the epic, defiant negation of ‘Transcendental Lawlessness’, an excellent pair of tracks in terms of both performance and lyricism.

Slaughter Messiah stepped up to bat next, bringing something of a party vibe into proceedings. Frontman Lord Sabathan (Franck Lorent) and axeman Rod “Iron Bitch Desecrator” (Rodrigue Soudant), last seen bassing and riffing it up in Heinous hours prior (prompting a cry of “Not you again!” from that Certain Audience Member), returned to the stage for some blackened thrashing mayhem, joined by sticksman John Berry and second axe-wielder D. Horse (Romain “Cheval” Delfosse). I was especially chuffed to hear ‘From the Tomb into the Pyre’, ‘Pouring Chaos’, ‘Black Speed Terror’, and ‘Bells of Damnation’ live for the first time, though it rankled me that they skipped over their self-titled theme tune, which I’d been especially looking forward to; nevertheless, the singalong to their cover of Bathory’s ‘Die in Fire’ was definitely a fine set-closer as well as a highlight of the fest. A thunderously strong set.

Finally, Swedish black/thrash metallers Unpure did a solid, seamless job of bringing the day’s proceedings to a close, leaning heavily on material from their latest album, 2024’s Prophecies Ablaze, with a sprinkling of songs from elsewhere in their arsenal. Personally, I would’ve liked to have heard more stuff from Coldland, the album that put them on my radar, but given the strong material from their latest—opener ‘Megalithic Gateways’, closer ‘Endtime Dictator’, and ‘The Witch of Upsala’, which got a Certain Audience Member especially (and violently!) animated (“This is what I’m fucking talking about!” they cried, seconds before punching me in the chest)—it’s a minor gripe. A sturdy showcase from Kolgrim and co.

Still, that wasn’t *quite* the end of the night, as that Certain Audience Member and I capped the night off with a nice chat. Who the fuck am I on about? None other than Melissa “Jaded Lungs” Gray, frontwoman of “fist metal” pugilists Adorior. After spotting her at gigs prior to hearing the band, attending their album-release show, and providing footage from said show for the vid to ‘Scavengers of Vengeance’, it was great to finally have some in-person interaction with the woman. It kinda felt like the missing, jagged piece of the Adorior-gig puzzle being found, especially since both that and this event took place at the same venue (Downstairs at the Dome). Twas an exchange characterised by effortless rapport and cameraderie, mutual appreciation, dark humour (“Sweating like a rapist!”), and good-natured banter (“You’re an idiot but one of the good ones!”). Call it the cherry atop this Subterranean Sundae.

So, yes, as you can probably gather, my introduction to this particular showcase of extreme metal proved to be a Saturday to remember for a multiplicity of reasons. Will next year’s outing be as volatile and notable as this? I’ll let you know if I put in an appearance.

~MRDA~

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Overthrow (24/3/25, The Black Heart, London, England, UK)

Posted on 29th March 2025 by MRDA

Monday night saw the Unholy Kingdom of Redemption tour hit the Black Heart in London, which was perfect for me given that it was a night off, I rather like the headliners, Overthrow, and the gig only cost nine quid; on top of that, the support bands, Infected Dead and Acid Vat, didn’t sound bad from a cursory listen.

They didn’t sound bad live either. First up came Acid Vat, setting the tone with a chunky, overbearing old-school death-metal sound, a unitary thread between slower, less familiar chugs like opener ‘Vat Massacre’ and ‘Misery Enslaved’ and the all-out onslaughts of ‘Cannibal Sanctuary’ and ‘Shrapnel Brains’. There were points where vocalist Jordan Sheffield scolded the audience for not fully losing it; for my part at least, twas down to a relative lack of familiarity with the (presumably) newer and slower numbers. The more relentless, previously heard tracks, familiar from their Dead Flesh Architect EP, presented far less of a barrier to a good headbang. Solid start.

Next up came Infected Dead, who also showcased new, unreleased material alongside more familiar numbers like ‘Samsara’ and set standout ‘Invocation of Unspeakable Gods’. Going by the sounds of the newer material, such as show opener ‘In Spaces Beyond’, it sounds as if it’ll sit quite respectably alongside what’s already unleashed, even if frontman Lou Ede’s vocals on the aforementioned opener fell victim to the Black Heart’s recurring sound mixing issues. Also, kudos to Lou for sorting me out a free copy of the band’s Archaic Malevolence EP (which still hasn’t turned up in the post despite my ordering it over a month ago, but Lou provided insight into that issue too).

Finally, Overthrow topped the night off with their reliably vicious brand of blackened-death aural aggression, kicking off proceedings with my favourite tune of theirs, the unrelentingly vicious ‘Caustic Vengeance (Blindly Driven)’, which, as ever, was almost worth the admission price alone.  That’s not to say they peaked there and went downhill, however. The excellent ‘Ruptured Nebula’, also from their latest release, the EP Ascension of the Entombed, was another notable performance, igniting some spirited pit action from the audience in a manner no track before or after did. I also gained a whole new appreciation for ‘Seeds of Disease’, often the token setlist track from their album Strike Down the Saviour but accompanied this time by another from that album ‘Shots Fired’. There was even a promising glimpse of things to come by way of new track ‘Serpent Throne’, which maintains the blastbeating, tremolo intensity of the Ascension EP. Speaking of which, its title track closed up the night’s proceedings in fine fashion, taking the spot usually reserved for a (this-time conspicuously absent) Mötorhead or Slayer cover. Twas also great to chat with Gareth (lead guitarist), Scott (drummer, for both Overthrow *and* Infected Dead), and Jay (vox, rhythm guitarist) afterward, Jay being in a considerably better mood than when I last saw them, supporting Massacre at the Underworld.

So, all in all, a solid night of British death-metal brutality—nice one, all!

~MRDA~

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Carpathian Forest (20/3/25, The Underworld, London, England, UK)

Posted on 27th March 2025 by MRDA

Last Thursday night was a black-metal triple bill down at the Underworld, with Norwegian notables Carpathian Forest, last seen by me at last year’s Incineration Fest, returned to the Big Smoke for a fully fledged headline show, bringing along London-based Polish occultists Black Altar, and fellow badger-painted Norwegian perverts Svarttjern along for the ride.

The latter stepped up first with an impressive, high-energy set to get the night off to a strong start. Frontman HansFyrste had a decent line in risqué raconteurage, dedicating the viscerally monikered, razor-guitared’Chop, Slit, Fray’ to “the little babies sacrificed”, describing odes to decadence and debasement such as ‘Aluminum bat Domina’  and ‘Hymns for the Molested’ as the “love songs” of the set, and, of course, inviting the audience to pay homage to His Infernal Majesty with ‘Hail Satan’.

It helps that his vocals during the songs are up to snuff too, matching the aggression and bite of his instrumental section, three of whom (drummer Andun, lead guitarist HaaN, and bassist Malphas) pulled, and pull, double duty in the headline band. The From the opener ‘Prince of Disgust’ to the closing ‘Code Human’, their setlist proved consistently impressive enough, on record and in person, for me to order up their back catalogue, so result!

Where Svarttjern impressed sonically, Black Altar did so visually, donning robes, cloaks, and, in the case of main vocalist Kruhl, skull masks, all whilst performing round a makeshift, erm, black altar adorned with skulls and Baphomet sculpts.

Twas quite the sight and the perfect accompaniment to ‘Path of Death’, which had Kruhl clasping one of the skulls, and the anthemic distinctiveness of ‘Ancient Warlust’, my favourite song of theirs, performed with a ritualistic yet rousing fanfare. Would watch again.

Carpathian Forest brought things back to the realms of grime and sleaze, their blend of rock ‘n’ roll black metal setting off the hitherto anticipatory audience. As at Incineration, Nattefrost and co put on a strong, solid, and (by black-metal standards) no-frills performance, grabbing, and holding onto, audience attention with fast-driving openers ‘Vi åpner porten til helvete…’ and ‘Skjend hans lik’.

Other highlights of the set included a rather ripping rendition of ‘The Swordsmen’, a crowdsurfer-inducing ‘The Beast in Man (The Origin of Sin)’ Nattefrost’s dedication of ‘Death Triumphant’ to his 22-years-deceased old man, which I didn’t know whether to process as sincere or as a stab at humour as black as the metal, and the band’s cover of The Cure’s ‘A Forest’, which, given its post-punk origins, allowed Malphas to shine as a (this time) bass-guitar hero. ‘Spill the Blood of the Lamb’ and ‘Mask of the Slave’ also made an impression as strong setlist moments, and hearing ‘Bloody Fucking Nekro Hell’ as part of the encore didn’t hurt either. Shame they left ‘Submit to Satan’ on the bench this time, though.

In any case, a nice ‘n’ nasty showcase of bilous black-metal belligerence, both old and new.

~MRDA~

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Kim Wilde (19/3/25, indigo at the O2, London, England, UK)

Posted on 24th March 2025 by MRDA

I’d been looking forward to Wednesday night’s Kim Wilde gig for quite some time, and in the end, it certainly lived up to the anticipation.

Before that, though, fellow ’80s luminaries Cutting Crew took to the stage for a short support set. Highlights included ‘One for the Mockingbird’, ‘The One I Love/Play with Fire’ (a medley cover of “one from the ’80s and one by people in their 80s”, according to frontman Nick Van Eede), newer track ‘Berlin in Winter’ (for which Nick donned what looked like a Ukraine shower curtain), based on the band playing to “20 people” in said city two days after the toppling of its infamous wall began, and, of course, the song that put them on the map, ‘(I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight’, complete with an introductory solo by current lead guitarist Gareth Moulton. Good stuff.

Twas the main event, however, that took things to a higher level. Unlike many tours for longstanding artists that peaked in popularity decades prior, Wilde’s Closer setlist actually made a solid fist of showcasing material from the recently released album (2025) alongside that from its spiritual prequel, Close (1988). In other words, a solid, focused spotlight rather than a relatively scattershot “greatest hits” tour (which would not have bothered me in the fucking slightest, given the grab-bag of bangers scattered across her back catalogue, particularly from her first decade of albums).

A couple of tracks from the latter kicked off the set, one of which being one of my favourite Wilde tunes and the one that’s pretty much been playing in my head since the tour was announced, ‘You Came’, *not * a romantic love song or, as I like to joke, an ode to shooting one’s load but a heartfelt paean—co-written with her brother Ricky, also on stage as her axeman—to her then-newborn nephew Marty. This merits note, as the presence of family loomed large throughout the night, from her brother Ricky providing instrumental support onstage to various members of her family, including her famous dad, Marty, for whom aforementioned nephew (and, also, her youngest brother) was named, being present in the audience, plus her sister-in-law Mandy (wo)manning the merch stall outside the main hall (and what remarkably wallet-friendly merch it was too! Shame they didn’t have my favourite shirt in my size, though).

Most prominent of all, however, was Kim’s beloved niece Scarlett, providing backing vocals for her aunt and even sharing the spotlight on ‘Hourglass Human’, a collab from Closer, which, to the delight of my cold , misanthropic heart, Kim introduced as the song about “being angry with the human race”. Her presence was appreciated durung older gems like ‘Stone’ and ‘Never Trust a Stranger’ and newer notables like the apoealingly titled ‘Trail of Destruction’ and ‘Midnight Train’. The two shared a great rapport onstage, playing off each other with vocals, synchronised dances, and, particularly on the aforementioned collab, some inspired costume changes, which I’ll return to in a bit.

For all the noted weighting in the setlist, the highest point of my night was undoubtedly when Kim took things back to the early ’80s with a selection of songs from her first two albums, Kim Wilde (1981, AKA the year I also emerged on the scene) and Select (1982); it was great to hear ‘Cambodia’, ‘View from a Bridge’, and especially ‘Water on Glass’, the first song from her first album, live for the first time in all their new-wave synth glory.

It was also great, too, to bear witness to the mentioned wardrobe changes, particularly towards the end of the set. Not content with donning matching air-hostess caps with Scarlett during ‘Hourglass Human’, Kim upped the ante by raiding the more flamboyant, hitherto unseen items in M.Bison’s (or Vega’s, for all the purists and Nihonjin in the audience) warbrobe, a glittery dictator-cap and cape combo, for nightclub-sculpted number ‘Love Is Love’,  then topping *that* with an impressive black steampunk number during her cover of The Supremes’ ‘You Keep Me Hangin’ On’ (probably my first exposure to Wilde, prominent as it was during its release upon my entry into primary school in 1986).  The encore double-bill of new song ‘Scorpio’ and the song which it seems to share a synthline with, her ever addictive most famous tune, ‘Kids in America’ had her return to dictator chic, black rather than glitter this time, for domination of the stage and the adulation of the audience.

So, yes, a bloody good set and a dream come true, given how long I’d waited to see her live since being rebitten by the gig bug. As with other ’80s icons I’ve seen, Kim pipes still sound polished and powerful, and her band, who she expressed a heartfelt love and appreciation for, continue to do her justice. Not even the presence of the female fifttysomethings in my vicinity acting like bad caricatures of screaming teenage teenyboppers could put a sufficient dampener on proceedings. The next, hopefully ’80s heavy tour and my ensuing ticket purchase for such can’t happen soon enough.

~MRDA~

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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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