SWR BARROSELAS METALFEST – PORTUGAL
DAY 2 FRIDAY 01/05/09
The two main days of the festival ran from roughly 3pm till 3am; that’s 12 hours of metal mayhem, 16 bands each day; the first batch of them all home-grown talent. Crystalline Darkness started the day with the sound of tortured misery. This lot, despite the blasts at start of set, are all about depressive black metal and had one of the most characteristic vocalists of the festival; in short he was what I would describe as a header! Demoniac as he is named was constantly banging his microphone against his chest and had what looked like a noose roughly drawn upon it. The wrist-slitting tones of misery came across nicely in their songs and despite the heat and sun outside, Crystalline Darkness succeeded where others failed by getting across the cold, dark atmosphere. Unfortunately all the mic abuse led to their downfall as the microphone seemed to give up on life and it appeared that as it was damaged, it was not being handed back to the front-man. Unable to sing on the last song, he did an admirable job of playing a game of charades with the soundguy, all suggesting his imminent death at the end of the set!
Demon Dagger; silly name, a bit too like pork sword for me but I had been told they were quite well respected round these parts. Starting quite brutally they downtuned a fair bit morphing into melodic death with clean vocals, which had me drawing some comparisons to Soilwork. This was not getting a huge reaction from the home crowd yet, and had me politely nodding my head thinking this lot were probably the most accessible band I had heard so far. Not sure if the more brutal aspects really suited when they did as they seemed more comfortable playing in a groove. I was reminded of Metallica at times here too and could see this lot opening for some of the bigger stadium bands visiting these shores quite easily.
Nuno from Metal Horde Fanzine had kindly provided me with a bit of a rundown of the Portuguese bands and what to expect from them. Must admit Equaleft did not really sound like they were going to be my thing. The opening wail of singer Miguel made it obvious that he had one large set of pipes but as the music started I was left slightly dazed by the amount of ideas they were attempting to fit in with a modern edged sound - part death, part thrash and lots of posturing from the band members. The young looking guitarists were acting like they were the biggest rock-stars on the planet so what they lacked in songs they made up for with stage presence, having said that I appear not to have taken any photos of them.
Sometimes you should not judge a book by the cover and I was convinced I knew exactly what Morbid Death would sound like. They have been around since 1990 and were obviously professional musicians. As I got used to their musical Slayerisms, I suddenly realised what I was listening to was in fact a Slayer cover, before going into a medley which included Pantera ‘Walk’ and a burst of Metallica. This certainly got the locals in a party mood again and had them all slamming away at the front, so job done there! The problem was when listening to their own material later I kept thinking it sounded like so and so, there had been some doom laden riffing that was a bit My Dying Bride as well as one song ‘Darkest Side Of Paradise’ which was Paradise for the Lost if you get where I’m coming from!
More mosh heavy brootality follows from the strangely named Echidna. They seem to tick all the necessary ‘core’ boxes but luckily keep it all on the side of straight ahead death metal rather than pandering to genre conventions. Again this is a band who knew how to work the small stage and it did not hinder them one bit that they had plenty of faithful fans down causing mayhem at the front. Guitarist and bassist postured, tongues were stuck out and in return fists were flung in the air from the audience. Despite initial trepidation I found myself standing in my favourite spot (by the right hand speaker, going deaf) and watching this entire performance for the duration.
The first foreign band of the day were one I knew; filthy French industrial black mentalists Blacklodge. Gabba beats battered out the speakers as they churned into motion and created a futuristic drugged up nightmarish noise. Saint Vincent had his trademark syringes taped to his arm and for anyone who had never heard this lot before they must have been a bit of a bewildering proposition. There was little in the way of pauses from this dirty junked up quagmire, the unrelenting drum machine just fired out salvo after salvo of beats over the scalpel like guitars, heavyset bass and vocal rasps. Tangerine coloured lighting gave this an odd sort of air as this is dirty squat music rather than for the big stage but it worked well here in the early evening. When they hit warp factor 10 it was no doubt akin to taking an overdose and truly logging into Satan, great stuff!
So a Portuguese Viking metal band then! Yep you heard that right and they go by the name Gwydion. They drunk mead, they had blue stripes on their faces, they were feudal, fast and furious and their brand of heathen folk metal had the audience at boiling point. Clean vocal parts muted the aggression but on the whole this went down like the proverbial clappers and even had the crowd forming a big conga line. I found myself drooling with a big shit eating grin on my face and was completely bowled over by the performance. All I could think of was that Turisas should watch out, this lot are calling you out! If they are back here next year they have to play the bigger stage as numbers such as ‘Turning Of The Wheel’ illustrated, with mayhem on and off the stage ensuing. I am sure the encore had the lyrics “oompa loompa, oompa, hey” shouted out too. You should be hearing more about this lot if there is any justice in the world. One complaint; lay off the dry ice a bit!
Corpus Christii are probably the most renowned Portuguese black metal band being signed to Candlelight and seeing them tonight it was pretty evident why the label had picked them up. ‘Black Gleam Eye’ was black grim art make no mistake, this is a band who perform a ritual rather than a mere gig and one could not help but take them seriously. They looked the part too with corpse paint effectively painted on rather than looking childishly plastered and as drums thundered and vocals shrieked they had the scope to turn blood to ice. ‘Victory’ unleashed a whirlwind abyss of hatemongering misanthropy and all thoughts of the jolly old performance before this were quickly forgotten. Suddenly looking up I realised they had pigs heads on the speakers too; luckily they stayed there and were not flung into the audience. ‘All Hail Satan’ was shouted towards the heavens and we kind of expected a bolt of lightning to hit the tent in reply but luckily the group were allowed to finish this most triumphant set intact.
Afraid a bite to eat got a bit in the way of Spaniards Legacy Of Brutality, another group with a name which surely speaks for itself. What I did catch certainly contained very little in the way of surprises as these growly grindy bastards ripped the small stage a new asshole. They were also the first band I caught playing Reign In Blood this weekend; guess as they seem to be a demo band yet to release a full length they can be forgiven.
Another demo band who had gone from obscurity in Huddersfield to Earache Records and glory were NWOTM maniacs Evile, a group you simply cannot fail to have heard of if you read this site regularly. I was pleased to hear some British accents even if it was Northern speak and was interested to see how the home crowd was going to react here. I need not have worried as after a calling cry of ‘For those about to die, we salute you,” the pit was fired up into crazed action. Some were not content to stage dive here but took big running jumps from near the drum kit and there were big bundles on the floor. Matt took time between songs to talk to the crowd and asked if anyone had heard of them seeming quite humbled by the action but willing to whip things up to even more frantic levels. There were some new songs played such as the blistering likes of ‘Demolition’ as well as cheeky entitled old ones like ‘Bathe In Blood.’ After a stage invasion and a half, ‘Schizophrenia’ certainly did not have me in 2 minds, Evile had done the job here for sure.
If Ingrowing were a toenail it would need ripping out; if it were a brutal Czech grindcore band it would need be endured. Fucking hell this lot sounded rabid, full on and ugly but bands from that particular part of the world do this style well as I have encountered before. Although this lot were new to me I was hardly going to be able to forget them in a hurry; they came at us faster than the zombies in 28 Days Later and we didn’t stand a chance. Playing under a deluge of strobes just added to the venom and everyone dancing looked like they were having epileptic fits triggered by the lighting. Things were not likely to chill after this for a while either as coming on the main stage….
….were Spanish old school death grinders Machetazo. I had reviewed their 2002 release ‘Trono de Huesos,’ which I have to admit had not exactly blown me away at the time but on re-entering the arena I was kind of thrown by a phalanx of what I (correctly) assumed to be police with dogs. Had they come to complain about the sound as it seemed somewhat weak now for the Spaniards and as much as I tried to enjoy this lot again I found them to be a bit one dimensional and formulaic and things got quickly stale. With the drummer way at the back doing the vocals they were hardly the most exciting band in the world to watch either. I thought that this lot would have been much better suited and no doubt would have seemed more powerful on the small stage, though apparently a bit of a last minute shuffle with the line up had seen them relocated here. Saving grace was a song about ‘The Blind Dead’ and considering where they were from it was a perfect subject to be tackled.
The first of two bands all the way from Australia next and we guessed Mournful Congregation were not going to fit many numbers into a mere 35 minute slot. This may have sent anyone thinking of bed scuttling off, as it was one hell of a slow sermon but one with crushing gravity behind it. The cold blue lighting chilled the stage suiting the band very well and the music here was doom laden to the point of abject misery. The stage divers were silenced for once and had time to reflect upon the days injuries, the rest of us swayed drunkenly on tired feet. After the first epic number the band announced “We’re doom!” No shit Sherlock! Next up was ‘A Slow March For a Burial’ which did exactly as you would expect. Shit, I am having to drink coffee just reviewing this! As the corpse decomposed slowly, the beer monster took over and again I found myself desperately devouring all in reach. Finally ‘Suicide Choir’ nailed this coffin shut, no doubt too late for some though!
Today’s headliners as such need no introduction really and my on/off love affair with The Haunted had been reinvigorated lately with new album Versus. Still, not seen them for ages as I found their audience in the UK acting like idiots last couple of attempts, and thankfully here there was not a backpack wearing goon in sight. The might of Jensen and the Björler brothers quickly raised the tempo and the band set about playing songs old and new. The At The Gates riffery of old attacks, going well to compliment the new, more mature, side of the band. The audience quickly ate out of the bands hands and it took a brave person to first venture onto the stage, and within striking distance of Pete Dolving. I was kind of surprised that he did not seem that concerned, having expected him to batter invaders straight off again. Everyone seemed to want to shake his hand too but head banging to the dextrous flexing guitar leads whilst downing beer was a far more sensible proposition for me. After about 10 quick fired numbers the band stopped and Dolving apologised for not speaking Portuguese before they charged into a stormy ‘Moronic Colossus.’ Actually in between rants from the front-man were kept to a minimum, we were informed they had been on tour for 8 months and there was a diatribe about separation of musical tribes. It was the music that ruled though and from ‘All Against All’ with its flailing riffs to ‘Bury Your Dead’ and the likes of ‘Hate Song’ this was an excellent set even if I did have to spend a fair bit of time picking collapsing ladies up off the floor. Note to self play those old Haunted albums again on getting home.
So it was down to 2 bands to finish the night and the audience off, they were certainly the type of uneasy listening experiences for the early hours too. Grey Daturas from Oz had that drone doom tag that could be dangerous for those festival bowels but I just grabbed more red wine and dug in with gritted teeth. How long they played the first note is open for debate, it seemed like hours to me though. After all this the guitarist put down his instrument and went over to the drum kit and started hitting things. The drums were actually unexpected, waking us up from the involving trance I had been forced into. Later the bassist seemed a bit bored and went and swapped over with the drummer and about 6 years later they wrapped up the first song; one that probably was only truly appreciated by beard strokers, drunkards and those on the right meds. Self indulgent? of course it was, but also curiously enjoyable. Next!
Year Of No Light have been getting one hell of a lot of press attention and I was intrigued to see this French shoegaze outfit. They obviously felt the large stage was not intimate enough and moved the drums towards the front before starting and I took one look at them and impolitely perhaps, thought they looked like a bunch of geeks lining up to play. This was a heady instrumental trip and one I don’t fantastically remember as far as the music is concerned, relying on notes that should not even be comprehensible at such an hour. Lighting was incredibly effective; no light, not quite but it had band members looking like stark silhouettes and even had colour photos looking like they were shot in black and white. How to describe this then? Well songs were long and convoluted and there were vocals at times. Monochromatic metal to an extent perhaps and there was far too much going on to call them mere shoegaze, besides if I tried looking at my boots I might throw up on them! Right tent, wherefore art thou bastard canvas of mine!
Pete Woods
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