WOLVES IN THE THRONE ROOM, MIDDENHELM & POMBAGIRA
LONDON UNDERWORLD 28/01/09
Arriving at the venue I discovered Pombagira were added to the bill and was not complaining as it had been a while since I had caught them in action. Some placid guitar tones set the scene and various effects pedals lining the floor were pressed resulting in some deafening drone. Perhaps as it was a while since I had been to a gig and perhaps due to the fact there was a wall of monitors, I was instantly deafened and felt like being a gumby old bastard and shouting out “it’s too loud,” not that anyone would have heard me. When the trio found their groove they got into it and shook the walls of the venue, getting a few kids into the proverbial sandpit throwing each other over on the dance floor. Reverberation was momentarily appeased with some stoned out blissful guitar tones. Vocals occasionally entered the fray but the loud instrumentation did not allow their full potential really. I think with hindsight and listening to their MySpace page now that they played the two songs on it ‘Defiled Throne’ and ‘Castdown Earthbound’ in 25 minutes without a pause. It was certainly akin to a book without chapters and in being so those hiding in the bar may well have found it a tad self-indulgent.
www.myspace.com/pombagiradoom
You cannot fault a band whose first number is according to the set list called ‘Sacrificial War Offering Of Doooooooooooooooooooooom’ Middenhelm (ah that is a Warhammer reference not tolkein apparently) are a youngish unsigned band from Peterborough and played pretty full on galloping black metal and did so letting the music do the talking rather than relying on imagery. In fact the vocalist who was the only member who really had much of a stage presence seemed as though he would have been just at home fronting a hardcore band. ‘Onwards To Victory’ marched forth into war with determination and grit, although there was no pit action the audience seemed engrossed and the dextrous guitar soloing was certainly good enough to captivate attention.
www.myspace.com/middenhelmuk
The venue was by now rammed with a real assorted character list. We had suit and ties, beatnik beards and aaran jumpers, crusties, punks, stoneheads, students, Japanese tourists (naturally) Hoxton heroes and naturally us normal types. Magazines such as Decibel and The Wire have jumped on the bandwagon and no doubt spread word about Wolves In The Throne Room making this a completely different affair from the far less attended show of a year ago.
Candles were lit and placed around the stage and lights were dimmed. The crowd hemmed in and my task was to try and get in and take some photos without annoying anyone too much and setting myself on fire. Nothing can really prepare you for a WITTR performance, certainly their albums cannot and just touch upon what their potential could be live. I had decided to watch this sober (yep you heard that right) and still was quickly transported to another dimension. The music was everywhere and was all consuming and biting with jagged sharp teeth. The players were a somewhat odd mix. Bearded singer Nathan Weaver looked like he was partway through a full transformation from man to wolf, Will Lindsay also of Middian on bass looked like he was painfully contorting a body which was too big for him and in pain as he strummed and I was surprised to realise that we had Ross Sewage of Impaled, Ghoul etc on guitar.
Our senses were invaded and overtaken by the clammy onstage madness. This was music to experience in multi-coloured nightmare hues of sheer terror. Mere words cannot explain the primeval ritualistic release of energy that was forging out the speakers. This was pure energy made flesh and a downright electrifying experience. Hideous, unkempt and demanding worship and although there were some moments of grace and ambience ears were ringing from the last onslaught and long looping guitar chords were interspersed with static and voices lingering in the eardrums like unwelcome spirits. The beast roared after these fragments, unable to be tethered for long it was let off the leash to feast, tearing off chunks of flesh and spitting them out, showering us with rancid rotting carrion.
I backed off as they strolled off stage momentarily and decided to watch from the back and catch my breath. With hindsight this was not a good move although it possibly saved my hearing. A slow and mournful build and then the drums pummelled back in with a storm laden fury. However from this vantage point the sound was cavernous and tones were lost in the mix as was any semblance of a good view. I thought I could hear jangling guitars sounding as though they were from an abstract Western theme but my ears were honestly playing tricks by now and although I could practically feel the music it was as though the trip was starting to wear off. The journey home after this passed in a blur and I felt as out of it as any drink or drugs could have made me.
www.myspace.com/wolvesinthethroneroom
Pete Woods
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