High Bias stagestruck

DIMMU BORGIR/CRYPTOPSY/KRISIUN/DIABOLIC
@The Back Room, Austin, TX
March 9, 2002
I've been dipping my toes into the shallow end of the extreme metal pool lately, sampling bands like Opeth and Borknagar, reading up on the pioneers like Emperor and the stars like Cradle of Filth. So it was with no small amount of anticipation that I attended this rare show at Austin's Back Room, long the home of metal in the River City, extreme or otherwise. (Thanks to the fine folks at Century Media and Nuclear Blast for the comp.) The last metal concert I had been present for was a Savatage/Fates Warning pairing several months before, and I was hoping the brand of more aggressive sounds I would see tonight would outshine the mediocrity I endured then. I was also looking forward to the opportunity to directly contrast black metal (in the person of the headliner) with death metal (everybody else), a distinction blindingly obvious to the fans, I'm sure, but not so much to a newbie like myself.

When I arrived, Diabolic was already onstage. (A metal show starting at 8 p.m.? Who'da thunk it?) The trio was hustled offstage within five minutes of my arrival, so I was unable to form much of an impression. While various roadies schlepped equipment, I examined the crowd. Mostly (but not entirely) male, mostly (but not entirely) early-to-mid twenties, all adorned in black T-shirts with heavy metal logos on them. In fact, I was the only person in the entire club NOT wearing a black band tee—in my button-up long-sleeved shirt and striped sweater, I couldn't have stood out more in this crowd if I was naked. Not that it mattered—the folks at this show were exceedingly friendly, especially to an obvious neophyte like myself. One young man recommended which album by the headliner to get; another just out and out gave me a CD-R copy of his own band's music, and this is without knowing that I worked as a critic. I quickly learned that this enthusiasm for their chosen genre crossed over into intense support for the bands.

Brazilian death metal trio Krisiun hit the stage and started roaring right out of the gate. Drummer Max Kolesne pummeled his kit mercilessly, guitarist Moyses Kolesne flailed away and bassist Alex Camargo screamed brutally (and unintelligibly) into the mike. This band has a great reputation for speed and precision, but unfortunately the latter was difficult to discern. Not because of the band's abilities or lack thereof, mind you, but because the club's sound mix focused on only one or two aspects of the cacophony onstage. Fans of death metal drumming and vocals would have been well-pleased, but folks like me wanting to hear the guitar work (outside of the ridiculously twiddly solos) were left in the cold. The crowd dug it, though, especially the surprisingly large contingent of Latinos, who gave the evening's mightiest cheer when the bassist thanked them in Spanish. Speaking of gratitude, this band had a lot of it. Death metal bands from any country have to rely on an underground support system of 'zines and word-of-mouth, and Krisiun made sure the crowd knew how much it appreciated the efforts of the fans. "Thank you very fucking much," said Camargo in the same cookie-monster growl he employed when singing. "Without your support, we are nothing. We are shit without you. So thank you very fucking much." It was very sweet in its own way. If only the club's sound system had given them as much support as the fans...

The mix problems were an even bigger bane to Montreal's Cryptopsy. Once again, the only things audible were voice and drums. Drummer Flo Mounier attacked his kit like Keith Moon on speed, filling the club with shattering snare fills and impossibly fast double bass drum work; new singer Martin LaCroix roared like a homicidal wolverine. But those were the only elements that stood out in the muddy mix. Cryptopsy has a rep for unusually intricate songs and powerful dynamics, and anyone watching the guitarists and bassist (who used funk slapping techniques, which I at least didn't expect) could tell something interesting was going on. Too bad we couldn't hear it, though. It was a damn shame; Cryptopsy clearly deserves better.

Perhaps the headliner decided to replace the club's soundman with its own; perhaps the guy just got a clue. Whichever, the mix had improved tremendously by the time Dimmu Borgir began its set. Interestingly, the band itself didn't take the stage immediately, letting their laser light show "perform" to the strains of the pre-taped symphonic instrumental "Fear and Wonder." As the last strains of the orchestra crescendoed, the band members took their places, silhouetted by the lights, and launched into "Blessings Upon the Throne of Tyranny," from their latest album Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia. I'd been wondering what the difference between black metal and death metal was; one song quickly taught me. Drummer Nicholas Barker favored a lighter touch than the death metal pounders, using crackling snare rolls as often as rumbling double bass drums, giving the band's music a surprisingly buoyant feel. Guitarists Galder (he of the eggshell-bald dome, diminutive stature and evil expression) and Silenoz (he of the long, black hair and headbanging frenzy) rarely played riffs in unison, preferring to play off each other, like a great guitar team should. Keyboardist Mustis added tasteful synths and sample to the proceedings, while bassist/secondary vocalist Vortex held the maelstrom together. Point man Shagrath used the same guttural tone as the death metal guys, but utilized it differently; instead of constantly roaring full-force he snarled and shrieked, using his voice more like a blade instead of a club. The sextet also had a greater sense of dynamics than the previous groups, letting plenty of open space into their complex arrangements and leavening the grind with occasional clean guitars and vocals and orchestral synth washes. Dimmu also knows how to write good songs, with a balance of majestic melody and menacing aggression. Tunes like "Kings of the Carnival Creation," "Indoctrination" and "The Maelstrom Mephisto" soared one minute and crunched the next, moving fluidly from one extreme to the other. Combine all this with the band's powerful melodies and visual appeal (the members performed silhouetted against the lasers more often than not) and you had rock theater of the highest order. Dimmu Borgir used all its considerable assets to Put On A Show, providing a direct contrast not only to the regular guy images of the death metal bands but also to their singleminded aggression. After this impressive performance, I was happy to pony up some bucks at the merchandise booth for a copy of Puritanical. I'll also be happy to attend future black metal shows if they will be of this caliber. It's a brave new world to me, but one I won't mind exploring. Michael Toland

Copyright © 2002 High Bias