Before the gig tonight – one of Asphyx’s select 2013 tour dates – I had the rare brainwave to collect up a bunch of CD inlays to try getting them signed. This isn’t the kind of thing I’ve done for a while but the off-chance of getting a load of classic albums autographed swayed me in the end. At the venue for its billed 19:30 start time, who was the first recognisable person among the waiting punters? Only Bob Bagchus! And what a nice, down-to-earth guy he proved to be; as did the rest of the band as they hung-out pre-gig with fans around the merch stand. As standard-bearers for death metal, for them to be so open and appreciative having driven hundreds of miles off their own backs to play here tonight, is a testament to true legends. Suffice it to say, I managed to get all my albums signed, and was happy as a pig in shit before the gig had even started…
Opening tonight were two established bands from the Rhineland of whom I had little knowledge. First up came Spectral, who are apparently a black/Viking metal band. Given the muddy mix as they ploughed through their set, I was more inclined to think of them as being a blackened death band, with vague hints of Dimmu Borgir-ish keyboard occasionally breaking through. Although the guitars amounted to mush, some nice nuances managed to overcome the poor sound, as in ‘Forces of Evil’. No doubt Spectral’s mid-to-fast pace symphonic blackness works better on record but truthfully, it’s just not my kind of thing. In contrast, I expected the straight-up death metal band, Torment Of Souls, to be of much more interest. Appearing with a dramatic film score(?) a la ‘The Omen’ (but not) I could have been forgiven for expecting a flood of epic proportions to break forth. Somewhat disappointingly it wasn’t quite that, but their brooding US-style brand of chugging did provide some entertainment. For reference, I guess the vocalist’s shirts – one emblazoned with ‘WHORE’ in German and the other a Lividity cut-off – says it all in terms of their conceptual approach. While both bands made a reasonable impression, my big concern was the poor sound.
By the time Asphyx managed to make it to the stage, I had one hell of a headache taking hold. In fact, it felt like I had a screw-driver embedded in one side of my brain. The question I was asking myself just before they came on was whether or not I would usually listen to Asphyx at full volume to remedy such a pain in the head? The answer to that would be ‘no’. Then again, I doubt many people have compared the relative qualities of Asphyx and over-the-counter pain medications before. To my great surprise, the headache soon evaporated. Opening up with ‘The Quest of Absurdity’/’Vermin’, it was impossible not to bang the head that should not bang. Of immediate note was the fact that the sound, as you would expect, was improved although it was still hard to discern the guitar through the overwhelming tide of low-end frequencies. Head traumatised as I was, I frustratingly couldn’t place the following track, but then came ‘M.S. Bismarck’. Or maybe that she be ‘MOTHERFUCKING M.S. Bismarck’ by default. The superb crushing assault of Asphyx – pristine sound or not – is enough to move even the most aching skull into action. It was around this point I became confident in my analysis that Asphyx is indeed a more effective painkiller than aspirin.
‘Death the Brutal Way’ and ‘Deathhammer’ were among the modern classics to pique the crowd’s excitement but it was two others which particularly moved me. First up, was ‘Der Landser’, which transported us back to the unparalleled brutality of the Ostfront; next, was ‘Eisenbahnmörser’, an equally terrifying account of World War Two rail artillery. Elsewhere, ‘We Doom You to Death’ opened up a new dimension of seismic activity, while ‘Wasteland of Terror’ and ‘Reign of the Brute’ impacted some swift, heavy blows. If memory serves me correctly, ‘The Rack’ closed up the main set. It’s times like this, witnessing the title track of Asphyx’s debut, which provide the totally life-affirming aspect to metal dedication. This – sheer pain, anguish and humanity-decimating weight – is what keeps us all coming back for more. Following chants amounting to ‘We want more!’, Martin van Drunen and his band mates re-emerged, smiles on faces, to tear into a blistering rendition of ‘Scorbutics’. As had been the case throughout the evening, the band’s sense of appreciation – spelled out in perfect German and even a little French – shone through every riff, facial contortion and fist through the air.
Hoping to get home sooner rather than later, I departed the venue as the strains of ‘Last One on Earth’ tore morbidly and mercilessly through the packed Exhaus; every face transfixed, and head seemingly moving in time with the music. My advice is this: if these guys are playing anywhere near you, then cut off your little finger, left testicle or whatever it takes to catch the mighty Asphyx. Although the sound was better last time I saw them, supporting Bolt Thrower, a headline show is something else entirely…
Jamie Wilson
Leave a Reply