Well there’s some shocks in store at the Underworld on arriving today. Firstly a display board has gone up outside the venue which will have the names of the bands playing put up each day and secondly they are going to refurbish the toilets there! With so many of London’s venues closing down it’s actually amazing that one is doing the opposite and having a spruce up and don’t worry they are still going to be booking the bands we love.
It is however thin on the ground as the first of four visiting acts take to the stage. It makes a change not having local supports and Iskald would have certainly been a lot higher up the bill if there had been. This Norse band have been fairly active releasing four albums since 2006 with the latest ‘Nedom og Nord’ only having just come out. We are met by sharp, icy and sinuous fret work before a meaty drumming assault heftily collided getting those in the venue moving straight to the front. Iskald’s call pretty much commanded headbanging and they instantly felt like a perfect choice of support here as they dug in and cleaved away. Amidst this there was a sense of underlying majestic grandiosity as they played their self-titled number from that new album ‘Iskald.’ The coarse Norse vocal rasps bit in, the drums rolled and thundered and it took off at a cracking velocity. They had but half an hour to make their mark but managed to do so as things spiralled away with giddy dexterity and a good layered sound with everything defined well in the mix. ‘Dommedag’ was a bit jauntier before it settled into a mid-paced atmospheric affair and on the strength of this it is hoped that the band will get the chance to come over and play a few more than just five songs in the future.
I had checked out a bit of Velnias before coming along today and had a good idea what to expect from the band hailing from Boulder Colorado. Long songs which had been likened stylistically to Wolves In The Throne Room. However nothing could have quite have prepared me for just how good they were live. It was like the equivalent of chasing a massive storm. The trio at stage front were twisting into unnatural shapes almost bowed down by the elements along with the contorted sound they were wringing out of their instruments. Huge barrages of invigorating layered sound which was weathered and windswept swirled out the speakers like a tornado. Songs, and debate is open to whether they played two or three in their 30 minutes, were completely involving and they decimated as they tore through us. I was reminded a fair bit of the aforementioned along with the barrage of Altar Of Plagues here and loved every second of the assault. They played in a fashion that seemed almost effortless and mixed up the huge peaks of sound with moments of acoustic and introspective fragility. There’s a touch of doomed atmosphere and it’s an apocalyptic one at the heart of this and it has those watching almost transfixed to the spot as they cling on to the vortex of sound. Bleak down parts allow a quick breather before the stifling storm bursts once more, bruising and tearing us apart, musical intensity in perfect alignment. This felt like a special and rather unexpected set, one that will linger in the memory for time to come.
After a quick break Hate come on and literally strafe the place with a blitzkrieg of windmilling violence. No strangers to our shores the band have overcome severe adversity with bassist Mortifer tragically dying young on tour last time they were due to play here. I am somewhat surprised that there are not more of the UK Polish metal community down here tonight and they missed out as from the start of ‘Omega’ for the next hour Adam The First Sinner and his troops literally batter us into submission. Always a slight enigma, this band somewhat like brethren Behemoth play a much more deathly style but still adopt the old corpse paint. Those at the front are making the most of things as the band romp through numbers like ‘Resurrection Machine’ having the place in a head banging frenzy to the absolute immense drumming from new sticks man Pavulon. As they put the ‘Hex’ on us a pit opens up and even if the venue was not packed there was no shortage of violence both on and off the stage. Songs are well thought out and fairly lengthy and involving and they pretty much played a good mix from their various albums including ‘Alchemy Of Blood’ from latest ‘Solarflesh’ full of clattering cymbal smashes and flailing riffs. Hate as expected put on a master-class of Polish extremity with the set almost flying by and dished things out like they were headlining before making way for the Norwegians to do just that.
With excellent new album ‘Djevelmakt’ still fresh in our ears it was only right that as Kampfar strode onto the stage that the austere piano parts of lead number ‘Mylde’ were billowing out the speakers. As the band barrelled into the song itself it instantly sounded thick and meaty and as impressive as it does on the album itself. Dolk harangues us vocally as the band drive the pace along and it was met by a fist pumping fervour from those tightly packed in at the front. Although at first concentrating on the new album we were not complaining as the weight of ‘De Dødes Fane’ literally slammed into us with a fury heavy enough to take breath away. Bass player Jon Bakker seemed really into it grimacing and bowing his head concentrating on building up the wall of sound and Dolk seemed in really high spirits no doubt spurred on by the reaction these new numbers were getting. Time to take us right back though and we knew it as soon as the didgeridoo call of ‘Troll’ blew out across the venue. It was a case of digging into position and letting the fervour of the number ride roughshod over us. The jubilant neck bracing song went down perfectly, the fast parts literally tearing away with the players all passionately throwing themselves into things. There were plenty of horns being held aloft in response and appreciation too.
‘Swarm Norvegicus’ is as potent as hinted at on disc with those sinister piano parts heralding us into the underworld and a slow gravid build that sees the singer literally roaring like a lion. Moving into Kvass the springy, jaunty bounce of ‘Lyktemenn’ is completely infectious turning the place into a seething party mode as the spiked gauntlet of the singer threatened to impale those headbanging away down the front. Every band has their opus that they simply cannot get away without playing live and Kampfar are no exception eventually dishing out the mighty Ravenheart with aplomb and appeasing everyone keenly waiting for it. Apparently the singer had told us before playing it that he really enjoys London and every time he comes here he ends up drunk. I think most of us were at that stage by now too. Pulling some real olden ‘Hymne’(s) out the bag to complete the show sees the twanging Norse cleave of first album material upon us. Bridging that with another excellent new one the years are suitably separated between ‘Our Hounds Our Legion’ and the ultimate battle chant of ‘Norse.’ Kampfar yet again did a formidable job, they came, saw, got drunk and conquered. It’s criminal that they have not been on the bill of a certain British festival yet but hopefully that time will come. A great night all round.
(Review and photos © Pete Woods)
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