By Monk and The Dark Queen
There are times when it is appropriate to rectify an oversight and this evening was one of them, with the turning of a new month finally providing us with the opportunity to witness, at first hand, the turning of a new page in the history of one of the longest serving bastions of our home city’s metal scene. Yes, it’s hard to believe that, almost 18 months after they re-emerged, phoenix-like, from a period of trauma and turmoil, to prove that their fire indeed still rises and burns brightly, we had never actually had seen the latest incarnation of this most storied of bands live and in the flesh…
Opening proceedings were another band who have been through the mill of line-up changes in the recent past, forced to refocus themselves after the departure of their long-standing mainstay guitarist, but still guided by their charismatic superhero of a frontman to seemingly prove their utter invincibility.
With their intro tape encouraging us to “Power It Up” the five beys who make up Cursed Sun do just that right from the offset, powering straight into a blistering set that invokes the voices of both the ‘Lunacy Age’ and the rabid band of avid fans emulating the frontman by bouncing around the front of the stage like Tigger on a trampoline. The band respond appropriately, raising the energy output to ever higher levels, with the bassist taking to the floor as early as the first song to whip the crowd into an even crazier frenzy of activity.
They unveil two new songs, the first of which proves that they are defiantly ‘Unbroken’ while we don’t need a second invitation to ‘Obey’ Jones’ to “let’s fucking go”. They’re also not afraid to delve deep into their back catalogue, with ‘Breeding From Bleeding’, ‘Ascension’ and ‘The Experiment’, the latter complete with its 16-second opening scream, seeing the quintet absolutely killing the second half of their set.
Haint are a band who definitely like to stir things up (not least through their unique range of kitchen utensils). They first whipped up their own unique recipe of hefty psych-infused prog metal when they grabbed the 2022 iteration of the local Bloodstock Metal 2 The Masses competition and obliterated everyone in their path to prove that year’s most dominant force. And that is something they have remained, thanks in no small part to their carefully chosen forays into the live arena in order to prove their point.
Despite hitting an early technical hitch, from which they recover with the speed and alacrity you would expect of veterans of this ilk, continuing as if nothing had actually happened, the trio yet again deliver concrete-solid slabs of heaviness combined with tautly delivered melodies, especially in the vocal department. Their dense, mysterious soundscapes are drenched in, and imbued with, dark sonic light, their twin vocal harmonies and big, winding riffs underpinned by titanic percussion and coupled with tumultuous twists and turns that whip around the room like aural tornadoes. Another superb set from a band who are undoubted masters of their craft.
But, now, we’ve some serious catching up to do. Our headliners are a band whom I have followed for nigh on two decades, using these pages (and other less worthy publications) to chart a career that has had more highs and lows than the Bank Of England’s inflation graph, but unlike interest rates thankfully has been more in the ascendancy of late, especially since the momentum built by their epic ‘No Gods…’ trilogy, which so cruelly had the brakes applied by the departure of their long-term founding frontman and subsequent faltering experimentation with an expanded line-up, has been accelerated by them defiantly putting their collective feet to the floorboards with this regeneration.
As mentioned at the top of the piece, it has taken us nearly 18 months to follow up the having our aural experiences re-ignited to seeing if the band could do the same in the flesh… and any doubts we may have possessed about that comeback EP being a possible flash in the pan are immediately dispelled as, in my 20 years of seeing this band both disintegrate and explode on this city’s stages, this is undoubtedly one of the most incendiary performances I have seen them deliver in an extremely long time. Honestly, the city’s fire brigade must have been on full alert tonight…
At the core of the band remain the ever imperious Anto, looking coldly, cool and collected yet commanding stage right and the writhing cobra that is bassist Seymour, who doesn’t stand still for a single second, always on the move as he ducks, dives and drives each and every song forward to maximum velocity with more efficiency than any Formula One champion.
I mentioned the words “imperious” and “commanding”, and those are more than an apt descriptions for frontman Duane Watson, one of the new ferric elements who have rebuild this band from the foundations up. Prowling like a caged panther, he dominates the stage, cajoling both the crowd and his bandmates to be the best they can be, not even phased by the fact that his sisters have literally landed straight in front of him fresh from a hen party in Spain: with typical Belfast humour he exhorts us to “show these newbies how we fucking do it”.
Stage left is guitarist Neil Ward, who spent many years learning his craft as a support act for the Sins. His attention to detail certainly has paid off, as here he is, standing almost stoical stage left, his fretwork dancing in and around the basis of Anto’s concrete-solid riffs while also accentuating both their strengths in terms of laying down some fairly seriously shredded solos – so much so that he has to throw aside his own guitar and borrow one of Anto’s axes (sorry, in joke) for the final two songs.
There is no doubt that the Sins still feel the fire rising in their bellies, their hearts and their souls, and they know how to make sure it does the same in us.
- All photos © The Dark Queen.
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