Cryptopsy + 200 Stab Wounds + Inferi @ O2 Academy Islington, London

As far as death metal line-ups go, a headlining set courtesy of the immeasurably brutalising and influential Cryptopsy - coupled with some of the most vicious and intriguingly characterful new talent the genre has to offer - makes for a fairly unmissable proposition. And with this most recent, tremendously anticipated run of shows centring heavily on iconic material pulled from 1996 classic ‘None So Vile’, it’s no surprise that every inch of the O2 Academy Islington is soon packed to the point of cattle grid-like immobility.

With the cavernous, dimly lit confines of the O2 already straining to contain the densely packed hordes of wetly perspiring, denim-clad bodies all but vacuum-packed into the venue, genre-twisting Tennesseean aggressors INFERI manifest a colossal, instantly magnetic presence from the get-go. Melding together frenzied, blastbeat-laden expanses of extreme metal with a host of influences spanning everything from intricate, staccato-laden polyrhythms to sweepingly grandiose orchestral arrangements, we’re left with the instantaneous impression of having stumbled upon something quite remarkable.

Interweaving these lush, intricately flourishing orchestrations with an electrifying wealth of dizzyingly airy and acrobatic guitar leads, epic standout ‘Maelstrom Prison’ comprises a searing yet seamlessly cohesive feat of genre-shattering sonic extremity. Residing in decidedly Fleshgod Apocalypse-tinged territories, the Americans’ purposeful pairing of these atmosphere-driven tracks alongside the spinal cord-snappingly aggressive likes of ‘The Rapture of Dead Light’ makes for a consistently arresting and darkly absorbing spectacle.

Aligning themselves altogether more closely with the classically bone-shattering ’90s blueprint that’s long defined death metal in its most primitive and quintessential form, Ohio genre fiends 200 STAB WOUNDS have fast become a favourite fixture of the European tour circuit and beyond. Marrying battering brute force with an audible knack for fiendishly infectious rhythmic sensibilities, theirs is a sound flawlessly engineered to transform even the most placid and mild-mannered of audiences into a

sweat-soaked frenzy of flailing limbs. With their shirtless, sweat-enveloped forms instantly disappearing into a blur of frantically energised motion, this impeccably calibrated machine of a death metal band accelerates headlong into the relentlessly hammering, riff-laden throes of ‘Skin Milk’. Extracted from liberally gore-spattered 2021 debut ‘Slave to the Scalpel’, breakneck pacing and strategically placed bursts of sound barrier-shattering percussion coalesce into an astoundingly savage and expansive mix.

From the moist, perspiration-soaked immediacy of the pit to the lofty remove of the O2’s aggressively air-conditioned balcony, the seismic stature and lethally aligned cohesiveness that’s long defined towering genre legends CRYPTOPSY set the 800-capacity venue quaking to its very foundations. As a flourish of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlit Sonata’ dissipates ghoulishly into the ether, the Canadians stride onstage as a deafening roar of applause rises from all corners of the venue. Then, via a tautly restrained yet unmistakably malevolent tangle of darkly unfurling fretwork, we’re hurled headlong into the classic, bone-shattering carnage of ‘Slit Your Guts’.

With staggering expanses of gnarly, sinew-weighted riffage and fretwork jagged and angular enough to rip a hole right through the stratosphere, it’s literal milliseconds before this famously brutalising collective amass spinal cord-snapping momentum. Interspersing these steamroller-sized exercises in aggression with a smattering of altogether darker and more compositionally layered material, this is the unmistakable sound of a band both simultaneously entrenched in tradition while continually striving for uncharted new heights of boundary-pushing sonic extremity.

Extracted from 2025’s obliterating yet blackly enveloping ‘An Insatiable Violence’, it’s the first time our fair city has borne witness to the nuclear levels of synapse-scorching aggression and tangibly chilling atmospherics that abound in sinister standout ‘Until There’s Nothing Left’. Via an indescribably visceral mass of rumbling, subterranean groove, battering hyperblasts and a rich, ink-black plethora of intricately snaking fretwork, the Canadians manifest a presence audibly dripping with coldly insidious majesty. And from corrosive, bile-laced shrieks that summon forth all the undiluted terror and carnage of the slaughterhouse to guttural growls low-slung enough to graze the very depths of the abyss itself, frontman Matt McGachy is an impeccably honed weapon of a vocal talent.

Without so much as the faintest whisper of exertion, McGachy hurls himself bodily into the brutally enveloping battery of ‘Godless Deceiver’, his gargantuan vocal contortions rumbling and reverberating like the civilisation-levelling footfalls of some wrathful deity. Easily handling the stylistic leap from possession horror-worthy screams up into a larynx-corroding vocal fry caustic enough to melt flesh from bone, this momentary deviation into 2023 opus ‘As Gomorrah Burns’ peels back yet another lethally configured layer of the Canadians’ storied sonic legacy.

But with beloved landmark album ‘None So Vile’ forming the undisputed focal point of tonight’s eardrum-decimating spectacle, the latter portion of tonight’s set comprises an uninterrupted slew of material extracted from this immeasurably influential era. And with its searing extremes of unhinged warp speed, pit-igniting classic ‘Phobophile’ sees the venue instantly submerged in a vast, turbulent ocean of frenzied movement as a writhing multitude of sweat-soaked bodies crash and collide into each another with bone-splintering, planetary impact.

Consuming us in a veritable tsunami of insane hyperblasts and reverb-stricken grooves sizeable enough to swallow whole civilisations, the Canadians wrap up tonight’s set with the aptly-titled ‘Malicious Needs’ - a pointedly modern choice of closer that cements their prestige not as some mythic and revered relic of a bygone era, but as an entity hellbent on carving out ever darker and more technically ruinous sonic territories.