By Monk
Having supported gothmeisters Cradle Of Filth back at the tail end of 2024, High Parasite – fronted by former My Dying Bride mainstay Aaron Stainthorpe in collaboration with the enigmatic Tombs – fulfilled their long-held promise to return to the dank back streets of ÜR’s hometown with this headline show, designed to showcase their brand of punked-up “death pop” in all its inglorious glory.
Opening proceedings are local death-dealing doom-mongers The Crawling, playing their first hometown show in almost 18 months (their last performance captured for posterity on the titanic ‘Live In Belfast MMXIV’ release). That last show was in the midst of a traumatic time for the trio, as they were undergoing major line-up changes, with bassist Stuart Rainey having recently been replaced by Adrien Crozet and drummer Gary Beattie subsequently jumping ship, with Crozet’s Lost Horizon bandmate Ant Deane now completing the rhythm section. Needless to say, this was the first chance Belfast had to experience the new incarnation of the band, which already has substantial overseas touring experience under its belts, giving them ample opportunity to bed in…
What we get is everything we should, and would, expect from one of the trio’s rare hometown shows: densely dynamic, intensely focussed and majestically hypnotic, its darkened nihilism capable of curdling your blood at 40 paces and flaying your skin just by glancing sideways at your withered corpse.
If the White Walkers had a favourite band, it probably would be The Crawling, something which is exemplified by the set’s two virtually inevitable highlights – the sweeping yet eruditely humble ‘Right To Crawl’ and always imperious closer ‘Wolves Of The Hideous White’, which once more is bombastic and triumphant in its delivery. But then, as I said, we expected nothing less \m/
The animalistic colour thematic of the support’s closer carries into the headliners’ set, as vulpine frontman Aaron Stainthorpe takes to the stage in a suitably slightly bespoiled white suit, his tall, almost exoskeletal frame dominating the room with a sublimely attractive presence right from the off.
As the band launch into their dense gothic noir vibe via the opening declaration of the virtually titular ‘Parasite’, the My Dying Bride heritage is very evident, but they nevertheless prove themselves to be possessed of a distinct and individual identity of their own, one which draws on traditional doom miens as much as it does prog miens and classic Nineties-style gothicism, interspersed and interwoven with an industrial edge.
As usual, Voodoo’s exemplary sound mix is nigh on perfect, drawing out especially the heavy, almost cathartic in places, bass lines, which underpin the dank darkness of the material to equally perfect effect.
Set highlights are the darkly anthemic ‘Cold’, which sees the enigmatic, masked Tombs joining in on co-vocals, the highly appropriate, and obviously heartfelt, shout out to Phil Campbell prior to ‘Widowmaker’, the pathos-laden ‘We Break We Die’ and the huge ‘Hate Springs Eternal’ – although, I must admit that we could have done without the somewhat unobtrusive cover of Garbage’s ‘Push It’, which came across as little more than a dreaded “we’ve only got one album so we need to pad it out” time filler!
Overall, however, it is an energetic and energized set, with Stainthorpe, his searing, soaring vocals filled with passionate fury, bouncing around the stage like a supercharged Duracell bunny, belying the dark undercurrents of the music by exercising his sheer delight in performing, albeit to smaller crowds than he has perhaps been used to in his alternate existence.
A night of sublimely dark, deathly and deftly weft entertainment.
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