Despite Ingested’s relatively humble ranking in tonight’s deliciously deathly bill, the bone-shattering, relentlessly pummelling enormity of sound they display from the get-go is nothing short of electrifying. “Bang your fucking heads!” bellows acerbic-throated frontman Jason Evans just seconds before a frantic, multi-directional onslaught of crushing blasts and blackly abrasive grooves engulf the senses beneath a wintry shroud of densely contorted gargling. Like the crippling, sinewy blows and strategically calculating jabs of some steroid-addicted MMA champ, ‘Invidious’ mercilessly batters and pummels the listener into a semi-delirious state of submission. With every deftly executed blast and agile spiral of reverb displaying fiendishly calculating placement and precision in the mix, it’s not long before the crowd is transformed into a frenzied blur of flailing hair and flesh as the Mancunian wrecking crew hurtle headlong into a blinding orgy of demented speed. Taken from blistering new long-player, ‘The Level Above Human’, ‘Purveyors of Truth’ sees expansive lines of sleekly muscular guitars sizzle with nimbly orchestrated panache before lurching, propulsive blasts dominate the breakneck throes of ‘Skinned and Fucked.’ Few bands indeed strike such an electrifying balance between tightly manipulated execution and blindingly gratuitous brutality.
“London, your energy is unparalleled,” beams Cryptopsy main man Matt McGachy, the affable warmth in his voice contrasting rather amusingly with his otherwise relentlessly savage repertoire of deranged, dry-lung gargling and diabolical shrieking. With these belching expulsions of bile displaying monstrous presence and breathlessly sustained stamina atop dazzling feats of technical fretwork, the combined ripping speed and complexity being displayed here in spades makes for thoroughly exhilarating listening pleasure. Splicing its blindingly savage stints of hyperblasting force with suspenseful breaks richly crammed with smouldering, intensely sinister whorls of reverb, ‘Fear His Displeasure’ showcases blistering levels of tautly manipulated discipline and intricacy of design. Richly feeding off the buzzing, sweatily euphoric energy of the now-frenzied hordes of fans gathered here in densely packed abundance, the Canadians’ impeccably timed, rhythmic bursts of aggression are instantly amplified to mind-blowing extremes of chaotic energy as an immense wall of death bisects this raging human sea of intensely frantic motion.
In precisely what nightmarish, superhumanly savage form we’ll find death metal titans Aborted tonight is a thought that’s no doubt lingering on the mind of many a devoted fan eagerly awaiting their first tantalising live taste of 2018 smash ‘TerrorVision’. And, on glancing upward at the lurid expanse of hallucinogenic neon depicting its deliciously nostalgic, ’80s horror-inspired cover art - complete with skeletons encased in glistening perspex coffins - it fast becomes apparent that it’s time to brace ourselves for a truly inimitable assault on the senses.
Through madly accelerating whorls of densely pummelling groove that instantly recalls the exhilarating, sinewy throes of early Chimaira, it’s with gargling, incandescent fury that these Belgian death metal beasts carve out a towering, violently energised presence with ripping early number ‘Deep Red.’ With its scalding surgical licks and notey accents amplifying its already blistering momentum to dizzying heights of bristling aggression, there’s no mistaking the intensely sinister energies that abide within this ingeniously penned new standout. And from blackly expansive slabs of bass whose plunging, subterranean throes positively ooze grave-scented horror through to nimbly unfurling lines of sleekly accented solo work, Aborted’s deathly magnetism is quite unlike anything the genre has ever witnessed to date. With its richly orchestrated layerings of coldly echoing reverb and thorny lashings of tremolo, ‘Visceral Despondency’ displays unparalleled command of these chilling, horror movie-worthy atmospherics. Filtered thick and fast through breakneck feats of pounding, densely sinewy blasts and tortured screams that violently erupt in a face-melting flurry of intricately snaking twin guitar accents, the fluidly seamless arrangement underpinning this expansive array of energies here displays masterful levels of compositional talent.
With these delectably sinister new cuts being generously interspersed in amongst a varied plethora of brutal bangers extracted from every corner of the five-piece’s expansive back catalogue, few records are more perfectly engineered for electrifying live carnage than the sinewy, madly accelerating energies of 2003 classic ‘Goremageddon’. Drenched in a bloodcurdling deluge of vocal cord-shredding barks and caustic screams that brutally assail the senses from every imaginable angle, ‘Sanguine Verses’ is thoroughly awash with such nakedly gratuitous brutality. Eyes glaring and visibly glazed with aggression beneath ghoulish flickers of florescent lighting, frontman Sven de Caluwé cuts a wondrously demented figure, effortlessly belching and banshee screaming his way through the lurching, reverb-stricken throes of ‘The Holocaust Incarnate.’ And by the time the final, bone-shattering bars of this epic closer die away, only to then be instantly replaced by Rick Astley’s ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’, not even this hilariously random comedy moment can detract from the devastating and indelible mark these masterful musicians have left on an unsuspecting capital tonight.