Running since 2014 Incineration Festival is London’s highly anticipated, yearly most extreme all day event. Taking in four venues a stone’s throw from each other, people have the choice of no less than 28 bands to pick between at The Electric Ballroom, The Underworld, The Black Heart and The Dev. Selling out just in the week running up to the show it’s no surprise to see excited black clad figures picking up wristbands and planning the day ahead. With just two of us covering pics and reviews we knew it would be impossible to take everything in. Luckily Andy and I were of the same mind-frame, concentrating on the blacker elements of the line-up and wanting to take in full sets rather than just a few songs here and there. We along with many others were relieved that the initial set-times had been rejigged after the announcement which was to put it simply a case of clash city. The organisers had listened and made it all a lot easier on the day.
It’s not always great going on first but as Party Cannon were the only band playing at the start it worked right in their favour and the most colourful, daftest and slammiest band of the day had them packed to the rafters in the Underworld even at this ungodly hour. They deliver balls in the face and it’s a shooting gallery as we head in, thankfully these are of the inflatable and non-hairy variety.
They add a sense of sniper-fire to the thudding drums, bottom end growls and higher screeches, chugging bass and guitar pinch harmonics rattling the very foundations of the venue. It’s all violent and almost clean fun well apart from songs about vomit perhaps.
The band are in constant motion, cavorting around the stage and brutalising us just the way we like it. Having seen them recently supporting GWAR I knew what to expect but the curious wandering must have been somewhat surprised as the band launch an inflatable shark in the pit and get a big circle pit tearing things up in the centre of the dancefloor. We all survive just about and nobody ends up duct taped to a flag-pole, I’m sure that will come later on.
Recovering with first pints of the day we stuck to the Underworld for something much darker and more mysterious Devil Master all the way from Batsylvania USA. Capes, corpse-paint, dry ice are all noted even though its much closer to midday than midnight as these graveyard ghouls lurk in the shadows of the stage.
As they set about enamouring us in the throes of death, musically it comes across as blackened, gothic death-rock. Fast and frantic but with plenty of fluttering guitar shapes thrown, the drumming sounds like it is knocking over tomb stones unveiling the eager dead to rise. Vocals from Disembody Through Unparalleled Pleasure (seriously, but a lot more of a theatrical moniker than Max) are lost in the mix from where I am standing but the energy is not.
There’s no silence between songs, just an ominous throbbing. With a shrill squeal the next track ploughs in like a particularly heretical sounding Christian Death. The gallop of songs like ‘Funerary Gyre of Dreams & Madness’ are strangely compelling. There’s no banter from these children of the night but what sweet sounds they make. Anyway the message is clear ‘The Devil Is Your Master.’
Not quite sure what happened but it seemed there were some technical problems and after a valiant and suitably chaotic number the band cut their set slightly short and vanished back to their coffins. In truth they were later seen out and about enjoying themselves and talking to people, even in the daylight outside.
There’s a big buzz about California black metal outfit Lamp Of Murmmur at the moment. No doubt this is enforced by their sold out show a year ago at The Electrowerkz and recent album ‘Saturnian Bloodstorm.’ Bodies are pressed into the Underworld as the band troupe on like strange irreligious monks. The stage is lit with purple and they plough headlong into the first bouncy, jangling, strumming attack.
There’s a sense of the diabolic but musically this is not fetid and actually quite tuneful and heavily melodic. Still there are bursts of hostility as the players cleave away and despite being the work of just M on album the expanded live line up pretty much dazzles with their dextrous display of precise musicianship. Songs are lengthy and involving, again the vocals are a bit muffled but the snarler realising this thankfully gets them turned up.
The infectious beat is hard to ignore and gets legs twitching and bodies moving, yes if we were not so grim you could have easily Satan forbid danced along to this. The devil is invoked with gargling song announcement and obsidian, serpentine melody sounding like it could have escaped from the olden Hellenic mists unspools. Keyboard intro catches off guard as its obviously sampled and a moody Nephilimesque rite of Gothic grandeur is explored the overall effect being powerfully hypnotic.
I can easily see the appeal of this band, they are quite accessible yet serious, not the slightest waft of cheese about them. They do a pretty good Norse sounding brackish pogo number too providing us with a varied and impressive performance that won’t be forgotten in a hurry.
Things were now overlapping on the stages but having covered most of UK act Spider God’s releases and never having seen them live they were my next call over at The Black Heart. I knew they had a bit of a new line-up today but had no idea that musical prostitute Sam Loynes (Akercocke, Voices, Anaal Nathrakh etc) had been drafted in. Apparently he was asked and couldn’t say no. It’s a first for drummer Jason too and there are four musicians along with maestro G who is able to concentrate on vocals. Playing with just subtle white backlights we are quickly swept away by their catchy tunes presented here in a rather raw and rugged fashion. Melody entwines around us and choruses are damn catchy. These ‘Horrible Forces’ are quickly recognised and have heads banging around in appreciation. The Oriental furrows really hit the spot and the devilish presence of Loynes thrusting guitar in air, foot on monitor helps really energise it all. I turn round and see the venue is nice and busy and everyone seems equally enthused as we are caught like ‘Flies In The Trap’ and explore new album tracks. Unfortunately, the band just have time to play four songs so it really is a brief affair with no time for any black renditions (which is possibly for the best). I’m sure they will be back for a longer set in the not too distant future. (PW)
Meanwhile, Dutch Death Metal masters Asphyx took to the stage at the largest venue, the Electric Ballroom. Never ones to disappoint, they crushed the gathered throng with their weighty tomes. Playing a short set, the band crammed in as many tracks as they could, covering a fair amount of their extensive discography but of course you can only fit so many tracks into 50 minutes.
Having said that, the crowd didn’t really mind what was being played and were content to headbang and throw themselves around in the pit to whatever was being thrown at them.
In contrast to the brutality of the music, Martin van Drunen, who must be the most amiable man in Death Metal, had a broad smile as he bantered with the crowd between songs, and both the band and the crowd seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the set.
The Incineration line up this year focussed more on black metal then death metal, but the faithful lapped up this masterclass in old school death metal. Let’s hope they return for a headline show before long. (AP)
The above short Spider God set was perhaps a cursing in disguise as it allowed me to leg-it back to the Underworld for an unruly slab of Profanatica’s blasphemous show. Aptly arriving to the words “fuck god” snarled out by vocalist / drummer Paul Ledney we were invited next to open our assholes wide for sacramental offerings. Ah like that is it, charming? But we know well that these unprincipled filth-mongers give little in the way of compromise and Ledney has been doing so since way back in 1990. The guitarist and bassist take the front left and right of the stage looking strange with their tear like make-up, churning away and I can just about make out the grizzled bearded figure of our host behind the drum kit as he savagely batters away. The sound moves from thick and revolting and sluggish and cloying, bursting into sudden gallops all tarred with outright primitivism. We are ordered to move to ‘Unto Us He Is Born’ and lurch around in a stumbling gait, fists pumping in the air. Despite the outright odour of antagonism, the audience lap it all up in good nature. I enjoyed this filthy racket but time to move again to the biggest venue The Electric Ballroom for something nicer and hopefully more space. (PW)
While Profanatica were busy defiling the Underworld, Crimson Throne brought their wares to the Dev. As soon as the trio took to the stage, the initially modest crowd swelled and The Dev was soon justifiably packed.
The band sounded on point as their grim, yet atmospheric black metal filled the tiny London boozer, but the unfortunately the atmosphere didn’t build and the band weren’t as potent as when I’ve seen them before.
I think this was an issue with the band playing in the middle of the afternoon in the corner of a well lit London pub rather than an issue with the band per se. This was a bit of a shame as Crimson Throne are on the rise and can be a live force to be reckoned with.
Still, those that were there appreciated what the band were doing as they proved once again the the UK black metal underground is as strong as anywhere at the moment. I expect big things from this band. (AP)
No chance of space, one would have expected this sardine packed crowd for a headlining band and it’s not often Rotting Christ could be called nice but by comparison to Profanatica they are. Unfortunately, something gremlin related must have been going on behind the scenes as setting up delays them by a good quarter of an hour so.
After summoning us ever closer with slow brooding chants the dark majesty of ‘Kata Ton Daimona Eaytoy’ seethes and explodes from the speakers. The sound is magnificent as is the lighting and backdrop. Vigorous and commanding Sakis hollers away and there’s plenty of spiralling guitar solos to ensure heads whiplash away.
Heretically unleashing ‘Fire God And Fear’ next bouncing is obligatory and the enthusiasm spreads from the stage through the crowd. The clean chanting reminds of Jocelyn Pook’s invitation to a masked ball and with eyes either wide shut or open it’s a delicious invitation to forbidden knowledge.
The feminine chanting of ‘Demonon Vrosis’ gives provides an air of spirituality and as expected this is a classy and highly professional display. The thrashy cleave of Thou Art Lord cover ‘Societas Satanas’ paired with ‘Non Serviam’ adds urgency and where people can move a bout of pit mania and thrusting us into the stomping ‘In Yumen / Xibalba’ does little to deflect the energy.
The sword of Damocles is hanging by a mere thread and is swiftly cut by the stage manager, running out of time is unfortunate for any band but nobody can say Rotting Christ failed to deliver today.
It seems like a case of no room at the inn or the Underworld at any rate. There’s a big queue trying to gain entry for Suffocation and realising that by time entry is gained I would need to leave again a chilled out break seems a good course of action.
Back in the Ballroom the option of watching the bands from a viewing gallery with more space seems sensible. It’s perfect to indulge in the cinematic voyage put on by Norwegians Enslaved. Elder statesmen with over three decades of history there is a bit of a dividing line between the svart Norsk pillages of old and the more progressive realms of the recent. One can’t blame them for focussing on newer songs on the whole tonight and they quickly set about hosting tracks from last two albums Utgard and Heimdal.
Savage grace is a good description when it comes to songs like ‘Jettegryta.’ Widescreen vistas form through the blue stage lighting as growls and roars away with no shortage of blood-lust about the cut and thrust of it all. It’s left to keyboard player Hakon to turn things a little weird and some proggy flourishes are sprawled out indulgently. ‘Homebound’ has a jaunty tenacity and drummer Iver’s clean verse gives it a fresh sparkling, more care-free lightness.
Three songs from Heimdal follow and I admit not fully having absorbed the album yet. The pounding near psyche drive ‘Kingdom’ and lush, decadent, mellow tones of ‘Forest Dweller’ with its story-telling narrative urge me to rectify this as soon as possible.
We are taken back a bit by the rowing longship chanter ‘Havenless,’ it strikes as a slightly eccentric choice but one that bridges the past and present quite well. It must have been tough choosing eight songs for this hour long performance but they know what the old fans want and oblige finally with concluding number ‘Allfǫðr Oðinn.’
Having delivered plenty of full album shows in the past one can’t really begrudge the group doing things on their own terms tonight.
I expected King Dude to be the round peg in the square hole but over at the Underworld he has an appreciative and respectful audience lapping up his dark acoustic blues. I note the half full bottle of bourbon on stage no doubt loosening TJ Cowgill up and making him a chatty host. Still I’m slightly confused as I thought he had called it a day, splitting up with himself effectively and does not have normal musicians around him, simply a guy with percussion tools rather than drum kit (introduced as Gonzales) whilst the Dude relies on acoustic guitar. All becomes clearer as the set progresses and he seems slightly surprised himself at a crowd who he states would normally be more up for moshing than his folk ballads such as ‘Jesus In My Courtyard.’ There’s been fiery brimstone sermons wrathfully delivered today but this is a complete contrast.
Explanation is provided. TJ tells us he has moved to Australia away from the gun craziness of the USA which is a perfect cue for ‘Forty Fives Say Six Six Six’ He also avails upon us that he has had a baby recently and certainly seems a chipper and happier chap compared to the more morose performances of the past. Still there’s always a barbed hook as “Your House Is On Fire, Your Children Are Burned” proves. ‘Lucifer’s The Light Of The World’ gets everyone joining in call and tell style and we get an amusing song about new homeland and all the native dangers to be found there. Apart from threatening to be a snakeskin salesman and flogging off merch on stage I have no idea what the future holds for the dark crooner. This could well have been a rare outing now he is settled on the other side of the world.
But it’s time for a complete contrast and TJ told us to watch them so why would we not? From love to war, unleash the dogs and Marduk. Only as I surface the next day do I discover that Sweden was victorious on some other triter song contest and so they are here too as they launch us straight into the fires of hell. Formidably swathing into the past with vampiric stormer ‘On Darkened Wings’ the next hour rages by in a blur.
Whilst we await patiently for news of a new album I’m not complaining in the slightest that plenty was played from latest one ‘Viktoria’ along with predecessor ‘Frontschwein.’ It feels like they are trying to peel the skin off our bones hitting massive velocity as they are cast in blood red lighting. The imposing Mortuus commands as he snarls away, spitting out his furious doctrines like a general urging troops over the top. The rumble between songs is ever present and disconcerting leaving little room for breathing space and even with melody coming through the whole set is embittered, intense and caustic.
There are some of the slower tracks that crush just as maleficently, ‘The Blond Beast’ a case in point with its ugly gargling vocals. At the other end of the spectrum ‘Werewolf’ stands out as a lycanthropic exercise in bestial decimation. This really was hitting the mark and other ‘Wolves’ follow as they head back into the Unlight once more.
There’s barely a pause, the frontman just about having time to salute London and the audience before picking and chewing more on the bones of the past. Brutality is personified by ‘Beyond The Grace Of God’ below me the pit seethes and it looks like one guy is knocked half senseless.
Security are quickly there to check he’s OK and he seems to shake it off. I love the slow caress of ‘To The Death’s Head True’ it sends shivers down the spine before the final assault ‘Throne Of Rats’ tears us apart one last time. In a word “oof” that was one vicious display and had completely done the job finishing me off. It’s been a long day but a glorious one. All that remains to be said is apologies to the many bands we missed and already anticipating the next edition of the festival.
Review: Pete Woods & Andy Pountney
Photos: Andy Pountney @shot_in_the_dark_photography2 (except King Dude & Profanatica)
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