Malcontent with just two outstanding guitarists on stage, the lead singer from Bio-cancer harmonized eloquently with their contagious vitriol through a comfortable dance around the fact that they were on as the doors opened. The seminal first pillar of the Frontschwein Part Four tour, they greeted the open floor space by honing their toxic presence and bearing it as arms to slay the roomy atmosphere. Completely underappreciated the Greek thrashers filled the space bereft of a crowd with articulate riffs courtesy of fancy finger work, leaving the stage hot after a short set for the ever ready Origin who challenged the crowd in to a tug of war.
It was a tight set and a clear victory for Origin, but what do you expect when the opposition is google-ing how to tug of war? The video tutorials weren’t very clear obviously. Origin caused quite the confusion at this Amateur Directors conference by encouraging fun in the moment instead of saving it for a time when you want your house guests to leave. There’s a new sensation that’s coming where Moshers are filmed in a pit with the Thomas The Tank Engine Theme Song overdubbed on the soundtrack. Pointless fun but if that’s a sign of the times then stage diving might just become the new photobomb. The performance from the band was terrific with real effort put into engaging the stubborn crowd. Kudos to both Origin and Bio-cancer who turned a stumble into a stride.
When the legendary Immolation took control of the stage the atmosphere had acclimatized to the harsh reality of death metal, and oh what a lovely war. Progressing through their back catalogue and promising to return with a new album recording later this year, they riffed on previous experiences and played no bullshit metal to the still reeling crowd. The stage cooled with genuine interest in their classic approach leaving the creepy circus to be ridden by the mighty reason generations had come to the gathering.
As hell froze over the primordial spirits fulfilled their ancient geas. Relentlessly commanding their innocuous music into a brutal slaughter of the senses, Marduk were timeless. The inside of G2 was floating in misanthropic purity and Marduk were a fearsome sight with an equally ferocious bite. The heroes of dismal propriety they were a genuinely exciting act. The crowd were lost to the sonal assaults after being weighted by the previous death marches. It was glorious.
Marduk were authentic black metal. Fucking God’s Country like hot sauce on a Christmas cake. A shining new Sun Tzu delivering a revised manifesto. Although their presence was obfuscated in the fog of war they utilized it as the true assassins of blistering heat. Unfortunately not everyone can handle the pyre to be reborn with a fresh love of seriously dexterous music and Marduk left the crowd without remorse, as an accomplished act who don’t fuck around.