Decapitated

Ah… the joys of loud, fast, ugly death metal. Like snarling, grunting, seething, hairy beasts commandeering the upper echelons of a misanthropic realm of riff-hunting saboteurs too frighteningly real for any cameos in Lord of The Rings, let alone Night of The Living Dead. Undertaking hellish, perilous missions to deliver scathing musical abominations to masses of weary metal ‘warriors’ living to fight the metal cause for but three hours in Camden’s finest musical dungeon, these travelling, riff-laden men in black (leather) are here, gargling their esoteric battle cry to those experienced few able to decipher their throat-shredding snarls.

Ok, so this isn’t quite *Manowar *but the sheer devotion at which the opening and headlining acts tend to their masterful works should not be overlooked. The first of tonight’s men of metal come in the form of gore-core merchants *Insision *(nope, not the UK Incision, or the American Insision - these lads are the _Swedish _Insision). Frontman Carl Birath obviously seems proud of his metal heritage giving the nod of respect whenever one of his faithful followers throws the devil horn. But while each musician is undoubtedly jaw-dropping on their respective instruments – not to mention admirable purveyors of Catherine-wheel style headbanging - Birath‘s vocal gargling somehow manages to smudge the shine off this strand of extreme metal for me; although his ability to rip your head off with his ‘thankyou’s in-between songs is just far too scary for words!

Bringing up the rear are self-proclaimed ‘urban cunt-core’ troupe Labrat *and although they’re seemingly able to adapt their particular style of rabid hate-core depending on the crowd, tonight they just go with their instincts and launch a pure no-holds-barred, hate-fuelled assault on a hairy throng blatantly unprepared for the growling boulder of abhorrence that is the side-chopped half of Labrat’s chaotic vocal shell Martin Ives. Its’ second half is the newly recruited high-pitch screamer Jamie Farrell and witnessing them both in full flight is like staring down the dark, smoking barrels of a redneck’s gun. After detonation. Scary stuff, and probably driven all the more brutal by their reception the night before at Dudley JBs where they were literally booed offstage by a few diehard metallers disappointed at the non-appearance of Relapse cult-heroes *Cephalic Carnage, apparently advertised in certain listings. Fools.

Rounding off tonight’s ‘metal mayhem’ are celebrated Polish deathsters Decapitated. Paving the way for a whole new crop of death upstarts, Decapitated are part of a new generation of acts concerned more with executing those bad-ass licks and screeching solos than with playing around with face paint and hilariously stupid make-up. Lead by the only bald member of, not only this band but probably 95% of Europe’s death metal bands, you’re guided through a mesmerising display of flagrant, fiery heaviness that just leaves you spellbound; their musical aptitude made all the more startling with the realisation of just how young these kids are!! And the fact fresh-faced 20 year old bassist Martin can pull off such amazing fretboard-fiddling on a SIX-string bass is just sick!

While musically they are more than capable of clawing the walls of established form, imbuing a power and technicality that puts most of their peers to shame, their actual style can hardly be labelled forward thinking. But then, in the Underworld on this brisk Tuesday evening, that’s ok. All its' punters are yearning for are evil riffs, evil stares, evil-sounding vocals and evil-looking t-shirts with evil-looking logos. Anything else is just unnecessary.