Malefice and Darkest Hour at Camden Barfly
First review of the year, and something to look forward to with one of my favourite current UK live acts another from the US that I’ve never seen.
I’ve caught Malefice maybe 3 or 4 times in the last year and every time they blew me away. If they continue on their current track - showing off intense, powerful live performances backed with a cheeky wink and a grin, along with an honest and up-front attitude around their fans - in my opinion they’re capable of becoming one of the best prospects in UK metal, especially on the back of tours with bands like God Forbid, Devildriver and this evening’s Darkest Hour. Tonight’s set is well up to par, lifting off with head-bang anthem Risen Through The Ashes and including heavy hitting tracks like Nothing Left and the mini-epic layers of Dreams Without Courage. The only difference is that it’s perhaps more intense than ever - last time I saw them was at the Islington Academy where it was great to hear their tunes over the bigger sound system, but smaller venues always make for the more dramatic impact. To paint the picture for anyone not familiar, the actual performance room of the Camden Barfly is about the size of a small school classroom, painted black with a bar at the back, lights across the ceiling low enough to touch and a barrier-less stage at waist level. I once saw Hatebreed there and it was like being inside a spin dryer. Despite front-man Dale’s hints that the crowd are letting London down by not spiraling into a pit you can tell that it’s just one of those nights where everyone wants to stand and watch, which is no bad thing. I really can’t repeat how much you need to see this band if you’re into quality metal and want to support the UK scene, and if I review them any more I’m going to run out of superlatives.
Taking a quick look around between bands you can see that it’s kind of a mixed bag in the crowd tonight, emo scenesters in full clothing-brand regalia next to members of the windmill-haired black t-shirt brigade, which is always good to see. The only shame is the presence of a few of the usual pricks. You know the type, ‘ninja turtles’ is what my mates call them. Fair enough, everyone should be able to enjoy the gig to the fullest but not to the degree that you’re actually directly harming others. If a pit’s going fair enough: you go in expecting, or indeed wanting, to catch a few blows. And anyone outside the circle will clear out as much as possible to give you room - it’s like Pit Ethics 101. But if you’re stood with your head down throwing fully-clenched high-speed fists and kicks into the open air and you catch an innocent bystander in the face then you’re a fuckwit, plain and simple.
Incidentally, yes there was a third band on the bill between these but I’m not-quite-ashamed to say that I was downstairs drinking.
For me, Darkest Hour fall into something of a grey area, with an exciting style but not something that instantly jumps out saying ‘play me’ when I come to put on some tunes. Their brand of melodic semi post-hardcore-tinged death metal just can’t click with my listening brain on CD. Live, however, is always a very different proposition. It’s clear from the sudden crowd shift from bar to stage that their visit from their hometown of Washington DC has been well anticipated by an enthusiastic audience, a few people literally physically pumping themselves up before the show starts. We spotted lead singer John Henry downstairs earlier and he looked quiet, retiring and slightly old-school emo - all messy hair and thick-rimmed glasses, but as soon as the opening chords of Doomsayer (fiery opening track to their most recent album Deliver Us) kick in he’s launching himself from stage left to right like a man on fire. Throughout the set each band member appears lost in their own world of noise, guitars and mic leads whirlwinding everywhere, all the while creating a fluid, seamless, layered selection of tracks that veer from more mosh-friendly riff breakdowns through to incomprehensible, twiddling spazcore solo sections without a pause. Definitely changing my opinion of listening to Deliver Us with a keener ear and trying to find the things that I enjoyed live in the studio recording.
Funniest part of the gig? A huge, topless, Eastern-European looking guy repeatedly trying to surf over a 4-person deep press of almost exclusively sub-5′6″ moshers, pretty much just leaning into and killing them. Over. And Over. Again. Genius.
