Burden of the Noose – The Forgotten Plague

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Burden of the Noose
The Forgotten Plague

It’s been a little while since this was released but Birmingham’s Burden of the Noose conjured a masterful live EP entitled ‘The Forgotten Plague’. Squatting equally in sludge and hardcore punk bedsits, residing by the nefariously murky waters of death metal, the quintet provide some of the most evisceral booze grooves known to humankind. Throughout its running time, ‘The Forgotten Plague’ is a game of hiding in the woodlands to avoid mutilation. Burden of the Noose prove that act to be futile, each track here possessing its own brand of violent intensity, be it the grooves of ‘The Begging Game’, the hammering swagger of ‘Family Affair’ , and even doing their bit to raise awareness of testicular cancer (‘Cancerous Bollock’). Ok, maybe I’m slightly off track with that last point, and deliberately so. But the rest is all true. Should you survive this test, ‘The Forgotten Plague’ may in its own evil way call out to you for more.

Peter Clegg

Buy/download ‘The Forgotten Plague‘ here
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Samothrace, Bell Witch and Black Magician

Here is the CLDH guys review of the recent Samothrace show in Manchester. Bazinga.

CLDH

Samothrace, Bell Witch and Black Magician

The star and Garter festers in the heat of the rarely sighted sun, once again the ready receptacle; a decrepit husk that has the privilege of hosting some of the biggest noises you’ll hear, as Seattle based Doomers Samothrace and Bell Witch descend on Manchester with support from Scousers Black Magician.

Black Magician take to the stage fresh from their exploits at Roadburn. Their mid-slow old school doom vibe surpasses musical influence and has made its way through the aesthetics of the band, settling up onto the guitarists truly Iommi-fied upper lip. Endemically heavy grooves accompanied by organ synth keyboards are substantial though seldom change from their pace, and when they do it’s not quite sufficient to be distinguished. After a while, it feels like being dragged along but it seems the crowd don’t share this opinion, as a substantial fan base have…

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Howl – Bloodlines

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Howl
Bloodlines
Relapse

When Howl emerged in 2010 with ‘Full of Hell’, they were hailed as one of the most vicious and aggressive sounding doom bands to emerge for a long time. Not that there’s a shortage of bands doing grim, nasty things with the genre, but that album indelibly left a mark which left people hungry for more. Yet with ‘Bloodlines’, it seems Howl weren’t content to rest on their laurels and have shifted tack somewhat, heading for not exactly radio-friendly territories, but certainly a move towards a more mainstream end of aggressive heavy metal.

By this perhaps I am creating slightly the wrong impression in saying that, but though they haven’t sacrificed all their slow flourishes, ‘Bloodlines’ is much more of a straightforward heavy metal album, with some undeniably cracking riffs, and largely excellent songs with smatterings of speed and trudge in equal measure. The bombastic punch of ‘Midnight Eyes’ and the ominous ‘Down So Low’ are particular highlights either side of these parallels, though lyrically it comes across quite cheesy and uninspired on more than one occasion – ‘Your Hell Begins’ one particular culprit with a not wholly bad but atypical metal chorus. There’s still room for improvement, especially given how they initially impacted with ‘Full of Hell’, with nothing really standing apart from that album or from other bands . But overlooking this minor gripe, fans of the riff will no doubt welcome this latest effort – its not bringing anything new but it at least backs itself up through its raw power, and through Howl’s certain conviction in the end product, you can expect at the very least an enjoyable guitarfest from beginning to end.

Peter Clegg

Buy/download ‘Bloodlines’ here
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Jock Jamz – Demo Volume One

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Jock Jamz
Demo Volume One

We recently covered an excellent Utah hardcore band called Youth Choir who some of their members, not content with being preoccupied with one band, are also part of another hardcore band, entitled Jock Jamz. Based on the artwork and some of the song titles, this demo is conceptually based on their home state’s basketball team, the Jazz, and indeed basketball in general. It does start with the familiar strains of ‘Rock and Roll’ (‘Part X’ in this case), the realm of the Glitter band and their disgraced former singer. Though they give it a typically hardcore boost that would fire up any crew, eventually subsiding to the irresistible ‘Full Court Press’, a tribute to the Jazz’s finest partnership (‘Stockton to Malone’), a hardcore cover of ‘Everybody Dance Now’ and the bold beatdown ‘Not on My Team’. Two projects both laden with humour and irrepressible spirit, these might the guys that finally make UTHC representable as New York, Los Angeles or anywhere else for that matter. Get on this right now.

Peter Clegg

Download ‘Demo Volume One‘ here (free download)
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Gama Bomb – The Terror Tapes

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Gama Bomb
The Terror Tapes
AFM

The thrash metal revival has certainly had its day, with the scramble for places at the top well and truly decided. Acts like Municipal Waste, Evile and Warbringer have long made their gains as the top dogs to emerge from its renaissance, while other bands either continue to thrash away or fall back into the relative comfort of the underground, or worse, obscurity. Indeed, it seems to have done more to prolong the lives of the living legends it created, rather than carving out a new niche for its own. Nevertheless, it would be harsh to judge Gama Bomb on these grounds – I certainly regard the Irish band, for all their mischief and lack of originality, as one of the better bands to come out of it all – their conviction in thrash and their impressive live performances have brought them a considerable fanbase, and ‘The Terror Tapes’ is further testament to the band’s continued sustainability.

Whether the sheen can last much longer remains to be seen – I feel as though perhaps my faith is being tested by only being able to sustain Gama Bomb’s tempo – not with the general speed – just the general lack of shift. Like these Hell Truckers hit sixth gear and then found they were unable to get back into third. But four years can be a long time between albums, and while the pace of life these days doesn’t make it seem so, its hard to believe the gap between now and ‘Tales From The Grave In Space’ – but given vocalist Philly Byrne undertaking throat surgery, the departure of founder member and rhythm guitarist Luke Graham and the exit from Earache Records, let’s be thankful that Gama have surpassed ten years as a band and yet still retain their charming lunacy.

Back to the album at hand though, ‘The Terror Tapes’ features all the usual Gama Bomb hallmarks – sci-fi themes, frenetic guitar solos, and occasional high pitched screams. But even at thirty-six minutes, this still turns out to be Gama’s longest album to date, even if that’s only achieved by slightly longer than average songs than grand creative ambition. Yet Gama Bomb remain thoroughly entertaining –surgery hasn’t hindered Byrne – his tone sounds much crisper and improved, if anything, a profound voice above the constant buzz of the thrash shred. ‘Backwards Bible’ is a cracking tune in all departments and ‘Terrorscope’ is a thrilling ride with a more than familiar guitar solo to the classically trained ear, and while mentally it begins to drain just towards the end, this is by and large Gama Bomb back to their best. With bands like Gama Bomb still producing to this standard, thrash is more than just in a safe set of hands – its immediate future is secure too.

Peter Clegg

Gama Bomb – Terrorscope

Buy ‘The Terror Tapes’ here

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Koresh – Chump

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Koresh
Chump EP
Witch Hunter/Withered Hand

One look at the artwork for London sludgecore crew Koresh’s new EP ‘Chump’ can instantly hook a person. It’s bright pink and its got unicorns on it! But this is no ‘My Little Pony’. Koresh can easily be placed under the mantle of sludge if you want to label them, but there’s more than a whiff of punk edge about them as they make one incredible racket here. ‘Chump’ is seven tracks of largely fast paced action – not one song passes the two minute mark, and save for one or two dirges here and there, its largely resurrecting the ghosts of Iron Monkey, Mistress, Raging Speedhorn to name but a few noisy so and so’s of years gone by. Beginning with the excellent ‘Straight Edge Till Midnight’, replete with groovy celebratory jango halfway through, and finishing up on the brilliant, almost catchy ‘You Can Call Me Gaahl’. This is proof that not all things connected with sludge have to be mired in misery – Koresh are having a whale of time drunkenly staggering their way through speedy songs and ‘Chump’ is clearly champ at clocking a quick glass over the proverbial head when required.

Peter Clegg

Pre-order ‘Chumphere or here: (both come with immediate download link)
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We Must Obey – Two years!

Well, we made it. We limped a bit towards this date, but we made it.

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Yes, We Must Obey is two years old today! Wow, it feels like a long time ago when we started, but despite remaining a small unit, with an increasing workload thanks to the bands, labels and PR firms that fuel this blog, and

Who to thank? Well I must start with the main people who fuel the fire of this blog. These people being Lauren Barley at Rarely Unable, Kim Kelly at Catharsis PR, Chris at Witch Hunter Records, all of whom are among those who continue to furnish us with the latest output and generally show us the love. Paul Priest and Raw Nerve Zine who really went as all out as we did in support of our promotion of ‘kin Hell Fest and hopefully this is an event and indeed a scene you’ll hear a lot more of. Cheers again to Chris Fane for finally providing us with a logo – if only WordPress had a theme as evil and as accommodating of them as possible for us to display them in their full glory. That’s something to continue to work on. Thank you as well to all the bands and label heads who continue to send things my way. I’m sorry if I can’t remember you all by name but you’re too numerous to mention, and you will at some point have seen your name appear here. And if you’re still among those waiting for a review of your submission to appear, I do apologise. The last month or so in particular has been mental, to say the least, and we do aim to catch up. Thanks for not badgering me.

I must also thank Michael Collins for his continued, if fleeting, correspondence for We Must Obey. He’s been here from the start and continues to be most interesting and entertaining in his views, all while continuing to front his current doom band Wort (shameless plug) and while being a part of the Manchester-based promotions crew CLDH, whom you all keep an eye on too.

And of course, anyone who follows our site, be it through Facebook, Twitter, or you dedicated souls on WordPress who continue to pick up our feed on the Reader. Keep putting the word out there folks,

If I’ve forgotten anyone, I do apologise and I assure you that whoever you are, you’ve been a part of this awesome experience and though its getting more and more stressful trying to keep up to date with this in the wake of family matters, new personal interests, my day job and various other things, I will press on with continuing to highlight the very best –and occasionally the worst – our beloved underground scene, from the UK shores to all over the world. And occasionally, we’ll debate, approve, upset, and maybe even surprise.

Peter Clegg

‘Kin Hell Fest 2013 – The Review! – Sunday 28th April

Click here for full review of Friday 26th April
Click here for full review of Saturday 27th April

Sunday 28th April

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I arrived a little bit late in the day, expecting to miss Envoys and DSDNT, with the sharper changeover times to make sure of that. Shyeah, right! It was a while before the Leeds hardcore crew were ready to go, allowing me plenty time for that flyer to go up and to grab a beer too. Still, when they did get going, the crowd received a pretty good set. There still seems to be a fair few people asleep, and they missed performance of real intensity, with the band’s vocalist allowed to stalk the floor and bellow his lungs out at any given moment while the others duelled out the soundtrack to their downbeat mood.

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Even that doesn’t prepare us though for The Day Man Lost, making a comeback with a new lineup. They pull off a set that’s all kinds of amazing, seamlessly shifting from one song to the next with little time to draw breath before the next grind barrage hits. The pit perimeter seems to widen with every song with more and more people wanting to enter the frenzy. This is quite possibly the best set of the weekend, hoovering even the most vaguely interested party into undiluted glee with the constant stab-stab-stab of subjugating sonic violence.

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Horsebastard aren’t bad either, albeit experiencing a slightly subdued atmosphere as for some reason all TDML fans disappeared. It’s a rollicking mix of grindy hardcore punk and political awareness, with Chris Reese of Corrupt Moral Altar doing vocal duties here too. Their bassist is fleet of finger and doesn’t relent for the entirety of the set. But having been a guitarist short for the entire set, they do well not submerge in a sea of low-end grooves, making the best of a potentially sticky situation and winding up impressing the pants off many.

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Corrupt Moral Altar trucker caps had been sighted frequently since the beginning of ‘Kin Hell Fest, suggesting there was definite buzz about the underground ‘supergroup’, and if there was anything tantamount to hype then CxMxA didn’t let anybody down. It’s a blistering set and blood is even shed in the pit as the chaos gets a little too rowdy.

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Wode appeared to suffer from technical glitches early on but still manage to plough out a few of their impressive blackened tunes. But the spark to ignite this particular set is somewhat missing. I get that not every musician wants to be an entertainer but with the vibe given off at this festival it would have been nice for the band to appear to enjoy themselves a little more. As it is, the appreciation shown by the crowd doesn’t seem entirely reciprocal, and the overall feeling is a little flat.

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The Sufferinfuck set could have suffered similarly from the opposite perspective, with the earlier hordes of grind rangers not showing up as frequently for the West Lothian powerviolence mob, but any doubts are cast aside from the opening blasts from the back of the room. This is one of most furious sets of the weekend, anf their singer screams himself hoarse, even roaring at one point to the switches on the wall. There’s just enough time at the end for everyone to catch their breath before they close on the cerebral ‘Nature Will Out’, allowing for one brief moment of foreboding malice before they throw the kitchen sink at it again. Bloody terrific.

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If the first chunk of the day was largely fast, it’s mid-section was about to hit a sudden bump in the road, and the Scouse whiskey machine Iron Witch were on hand to slow things down. Always a class act as usual, they manage to sneak in a new song or two and still retain a familiar feel about their set, with the new material from ‘Hangover Suicide‘ fitting like a glove. Today’s set felt like they were doom trippin’ more than the last time I saw them, which was back when ‘Single Malt‘ was the flavour, but that’s no bad thing when the riffs flow as they so often do, and

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Things slow down even further for the arrival of Bong. A divisive act, in terms of people who can’t stand drone no less stand through 40 minutes of it, and of course those who can, whether we’re into it or slightly curious. Those that stay are greeted with a masterful display of pure focus and attrition, building and maintaining the volume throughout, with only a morsel of chanted vocals and a spacey upward movement in tempo as the set progresses on which to hang any hat on the coathook of melody.

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The room become tightly packed for the return of Leeds’ own A Forest of Stars, who use their soundtrack to ensure everything is precise to the most minute detail. The local crowd seem more than happy to let them get on with it and they don’t disappoint, providing a thorough, professional and wholly unique experience. The septet and their ensemble of instruments fill the seemingly tiny stage yet the crowd equally squeezes down to the front to glimpse to see their unique blend of progressive black metal, holding everyone’s attention like the mass conductors they are.

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After that display of utmost composure and sincere appreciation, some depravity had to be in order, and London goregrind louts Gout were on hand to deliver it. Decked in their now trademark Hawaiian clothing and entering to the ‘Trololol’ song, the lights turn a blood red over the stage and when it all kicks in everything goes nuts. An explosion in the pit felt like it was forever waiting, until Gout came along and in one fell swoop opened up a sea of flailing, circling humanity. Eddie Spengler revels in his frontman role, unleashing ridiculous song titles – ‘Interspecies Zoophiliac Sex Safari’ being a nugget of pure gold in its utterance – and plumbing the deepest gutter of the vocal bucket whilst having a good old jape around the stage, as his bandmates blast and groove everything to pieces. It’s over in 30 minutes but the good times experienced here will long live on when looking back over this weekend.

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Not to be outdone, Bury death metallers Foetal Juice don’t waste too much time in delivering their own gleeful battering, hitting the jackpot with every song, vocalist Sam Read revelling in the role of growler and conjuror, keeping the crowd enthralled throughout and spending the whole gig with a maniacal expression across his face. 18 months ago they were a proud part of the original KHF. Sub-headlining this time around, how much longer before they’re headlining things like this in their own right?

Unfortunately, my carriage awaits as stamina gets the better of us and we decide to call it a night at a reasonable time. So apologies to Man Must Die and indeed Envoys from earlier, though I’m assured both were excellent.

Finally, I must close out this review with a massive thank you to Paul Priest and to all the KHF staff who made our time there very accommodating whilst running an excellent operation on a large scale throughout. I implore everyone to head over to the ‘Kin Hell Fest page over on Facebook and to continue to support this festival in any way, shape or form. We’d love to see this fest return in 2014 – it was a blast from start to finish, and its grand to see UK hardcore and metal, in all its forms, is very much alive and well in the catacombs of the underground.

Peter Clegg

‘Kin Hell Fest 2013 – The Review!

Its been weeks in the making, but its finally here. From Friday 26th to Sunday 28th April, a venue called the Templeworks in Leeds was shaken to its core numerous times by some of the very best UK underground hardcore and metal had to offer. We were there for just about all of it (sorry Envoys, Man Must Die) and now we can finally bring it to you.

It seems a bit disjointed, given we have photos for Friday and Sunday but not for Saturday. Anyone willing to help with photos, please get in touch with us – though its not massively important. It was a very DIY job anyway. We may furnish this review with videos and maybe more photos too where applicable. But right now, get ready to relive an immense weekend.

So here it is, at last: ‘Kin Hell Fest 2013 – The Review!

Friday 26th April

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From the off the tone for the weekend was one for a flagrant disregard for punctuality. Maybe it was the size of the task at hand, but from the off Friday’s action was 25-30 minutes behind before Rectal Implosion got going. Thankfully the wait is worth it, with the drummer/vocalist of the duo giving some pretty good brutal metal face impressions as he shells out his vocals and delicious beats, the guitarist riffing and weedling away in front of him. ‘This next song is called Mosh In Hell, which most of you won’t have heard as its from our demo CD, which not many people have!‘ Perhaps true, but even with limited output to date, Rectal Implosion’s material shows a lot of substance.

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It’s not hard to spot Mancunian black metallers Acolyte‘s influences, with more than a shade of the progressive nature of Enslaved, Deathspell Omega about them. But it would be churlish to rank them solely on this, and despite some tuning issues in the first song, the band crank out a set worthy of everyone’s attention with the singer revelling in the attention of the front few rows. With new album ‘Alta’ about to drop, this was a good time to drop in with a good performance and Acolyte look to be more than capable of joining the booming UK black metal elite.

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I’d been looking forward to Magpyes a lot, and by and large there was good to be found from their set. However there was that sense that it was all a blur, whether that was just down to their short song nature or the PA system. A slight detraction, but they get the first truly decent moshpit of the weekend, and it would be unfair to suggest they didn’t elicit a response, because they certainly did that, and then some.

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The weekend’s only pagan metal band Ravenage were up next, and they don’t hold back in the costume stakes, a must if you’re truly to be believed in at this sort of thing. The Hull sextet do not disappoint, reducing the most hardened metaller into pure dancing joy, managing to lead a by now slightly inebriated crowd into a cry of ‘More Beer!‘ during the song of the same name. A grand sight to see a band able to hold a crowd like that in a place like this.

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Kastrated‘s set seemed awfully short, but the Burnley crew seem to have a good faithful watching them and they truly bring the slam element to KHF with a blistering display of sledgehammer riffs, turns of pace, and cheeky macabre Northern humour.

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Its easy to see why Winterfylleth have risen to the cream of the British black metal crop, and their set is beholden with quality throughout. The hour is getting late at this point, but their performance is gratefully received by the masses, with plenty to savour from works recent and old.

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What Lawnmower Deth are to thrash, Gore surely are to goregrind. Infamous over the years for lobbing fish into the audience, they’re on the comeback trail and their unhinged humour seems perfectly intact, turning the moshpit into a cheesy 80’s dancefloor and even getting their new guitarist to hand out Christmas cake to the crowd between songs. Yes it’s completely silly and off the wall but you’d have to be really hardnosed to not see the funny side of songs like ‘Smashed to Pieces By Falling Faeces’, ‘Be My Speedbump’, and even their very own ‘National Anthem of Goruguay’. It’s good to see them back, serving up a platter of punk and thrash grooves amidst the splatter of subject matter. (PC)

Predictably my task of staying relatively copus mentus, in the event of the much harder working half of We Must Obey having to leave before the end, has gone less smoothly than I might have hoped. Insane a tonal scales flit sporadically around slamming groove occasionally fooling me into trying to nod my head to beat; “fuck you!”, Diascorium reply, “you have no comprehension of what’s coming next you inebriated, simple minded twerp”. So I go back to sweating and watching wide eyed. I’ts a head fuck; a moment of brilliant bright catchy melody, and I think it’s possible we’ve gone through the insanity and out the other side; the guitar and cab head’s blink robotically threatening to fry your brain like two Daleks, then a twisted bass line emerges and something that sounds like jazz on bad acid comes to fruitation. “This one’s about if you don’t sleep you die”, says the frontman and I think I they have managed to capture what that must be like. Diascorium is not strictly about your indulgence as a listener, but more that your being taken for a ride. It’s like an exploration of what’s possible within a song, subjecting the crowd to schizophrenic extremities and lulling you into a false sense of security with some awesome catchy grooves. There’s a good amount of friendly banter and mic passing between the band and the crowd, occasionally someone flies past the front odd postured and tangled in their own limbs with a giddy look. Diascorium make the most of their last gig ever and close with a slam that starts with ludicrous widdly widdles and is slowed down over and over again into a lumbering beast, finished, then re-started to the inevitable shouts of “slower”. A very entertaining end to great day, despite occasionally feeling as though tailored to bring on a nasty psychotic episode. (MC)

Peter Clegg/Michael Collins

Click here for full review of Saturday 27th April
Click here for full review of Sunday 28th April

‘Kin Hell Fest 2013 – The Review! – Saturday 27th April

Click here for full review of Friday 26th April
Click here for full review of Sunday 28th April

Saturday 27th April

I set off on the walk back from the rooms we stayed at about 11:30 am. A car drives past me and swerves to travel through a large puddle, soaking me from head to toe. Feeling completely broken, we stop at a cafe to regather with a full English breakfast. It doesn’t work, so we make our way back to the venue in obligation and because I didn’t have a gun to shoot myself in the head. Slumped against a wall trying to prop myself up, I reluctantly await an onslaught of death metal. After getting back to the jam rooms the night before I found a corner in which I tried in vain to sleep. I watched the ceiling swim around while four un-intelligible Geordies had a snoring competition and occasionally tried to wake their friend for ketamine. I did not feel good, but one must persevere, and I was safe in the knowledge others were in the same boat.

Never the less, there’s a decent crowd assembled for the first band Masochist, who break the reluctant atmosphere with straight up death metal. It’s nothing new but there’s a good old school element to it and some good groove to get into. The frontman attempts to bring some animation to the gray faced crowd; “turn to the person on your right and shake their hand”, I cautiously eye my neighbour and take a step away, “now is not the time for the affection of strangers, now is the time for the proper observation on personal space”, I’m sure he understood. Masochist finish their assault and although people retreat to various dark corners, the day is starting to look promising with a steady stream of arrivals and the emergence of some yellow heat giving foreign object in the sky.

There is no remorse for those still feeling sensitive as Nu, Pogodi! take to the stage. This band should be predominantly credited first of all for remembering all their lyrics. Mid barrage, they must be going at least 1000 words per second. Utilizing an intense duel vocal barrage, the three piece bash out simplistic crusty riffs while the savaging beast occasionally turns into a very Sabbathian creature, slow and menacing, which mixes it up well. The lyrical content and stance of the band (explained between tracks) is cliché but correctly highlights some misogynistic views within the metal scene. How ironic it would be for the track ‘Fuck my Womb’ to be taken as anything but symbolic.

I walk outside and buy some cans of Stella from the commendably priced bar; gruelling work to get it down, but if there was any hope of feeling reasonable again, the answer’s somewhere at the bottom of one of these things. As I get back to the venue I’m greeted by series of strange electronic loops with bizarrely out of context monologue, seemingly powered by a sonic teapot; it’s time for things to get weird with Sloth Hammer. The band’s faces are all concealed, most wearing balaclavas with the exception of one member, wearing a gory pig mask and overalls. This porcine individual walked out into the crowd holding various pieces of drum kit, which he proceeded to hit as hard as he could with other pieces of unfortunate drum kit, as people around him looked apprehensively and flinched. There’s rattling bass that growls over harsh teapot noise picking up into evil doom rhythms, then accentuated by a double percussive assault, plus our piggy friend. I can honestly say I’ve never been subjected to such an odd musically orientated spectacle, made all the more surreal by the naked drummers who made visual contributions by putting socks on their nobs.

Time to soak in the heavy grooves of the BongCauldron. Massive Iron Monkey style throw downs punch out of more THC stewed lethargies or upbeat tight rock outs. The large hairy man at the front of the stage occasionally bellows about getting pissed and what not. It’s very satisfying and tightly executed, heavy but fun. Everyone in the crowd nods their heads enthusiastically safe in the knowledge that the next riff will be just as fucking catchy and large, I expect that you will see a great deal more of these riff demons in the near future.

Uplifted by the sounds of Bongcauldron and feeling better for guzzling, we’re thrown back into a pit of spikes with Prolefeed. Wide eyed crust punk relentlessly mauls any complacency giving us a good dose of thought crime. Leaning towards old school crust punk Doom vibes, its evidence that melody can work in true aggressive music; a great set and something that’s not done as much at the moment.

After soaking sun to help with the ongoing healing process its back into the cave for Regurgitate Life. The one man effort entails an endless string of breakneck widdlies and “ORGHHH”, to the drum machines obscure timings coming through the PA. Very impressive musicianship with absolute berzerkery, which didn’t honestly come that easy to listen to.

There’s a large crowd assembled for thrash-infused death metallers Cancerous Womb from Scotland, and there’s the first taste of good spirited violence in the crowd that sets precedent for the rest of the night. Chaos is fun and Cancerous Womb have got it as well as quality tracks. Who wouldn’t be charmed by such lovely titles as ‘Torn from Gunt to Cunt’?

Whilst plying myself with vodka outside some malignant noise spills from the stage (This noise belongs to Ishmael – PC). Notes linger with cavernous openings before striking again in discontent, with the precision of a giant cog fitting its next groove in some monolithic despicable machine. The pace is slow, titanicly hellish with harsh screams as a constant and bleak background. Absorbed in negativity, the crowd gaze on and sink into the floor. In a good way, probably.

Flayed Disciple is a tirade of palm muted thrashy death, energetic palm muted riffs with guttural vocals about killing people and jizzing on them, the kind of thing exclusive to this quaint genre. They actually sound to me like a death metal version of early Megadeth.

Rickenbacker and Flares in tow Asomvel wear their influences on their sleeves and keep it light hearted. Bass lines from somewhere in Motörhead’s back catalogue are as punchy and in your face as you’d hope while there’s almost a constant wah wah blues solo coming from the flares in the corner. A great deal of fun to watch and different to the rest of the bill. “We’ve got one more before you dullards get back to your grindcore or whatever it is you listen to now”. ‘Ace of Spades’ was requested for this finale.

I looked up, and there before me was a Pale Horse, its rider was named Death and Hades was following close behind him”. If death didn’t like Johnny Cash and wanted to announce the arrival of the apocalypse less subtly, Palehorse would be suitable. Ground shaking low end provided by the two bassists is accompanied by the ominous drones of an organ synth, the player of which occasionally looks upwards and screams into a microphone. While the crowd collide viciously with each other a man with a bald spherical head and glasses attempts to keep upright in the middle as he shrieks and nasally preaches anxiety and despair as though from a blasphemous pulpit. An all around ugly experience, with fat rolling vibrations.

Alkerdeel bring harsh, minimalistic and bleak atmospheres with frantic vocalised desperation and the occasional Darkthrone esque groove dropped in. Unfortunately the sound was way off and it was difficult to make out any of the guitar, from outside I initially thought a doom band was on stage, the low end was so prominent. I’d like to catch this lot again for that reason.

I’m a fan of any band that have a track called ‘Can I Have 20p For a Cup of Tea’?, regardless of what they sound like, but as it happens The Afternoon Gentlemen, are one of the best grind bands around. The Leeds based pissheads combine blastery with groove that you’ll likely be spitting blood to. Tonight’s no exception; punk fuelled razor sharp power violence nastiness.

For a short break I decide to take a short walk in the moonlight, take in the beautiful sights, smells and sounds of the Templeworks car parks and have three, yes fucking three double vodkas spilt by various clumsy cunts that polluted my vicinity. During my anguish, the horrific sounds of a man drowning in tar reached my ears, upon further investigation I realised the noise was in fact, Rompeprop. Guttural simplistic grind and a good deal of banter make this band lots of fucking fun in between sustaining injuries and finding yourself on the floor. It must be said that at this point, the night takes a certain nostalgic haze for some reason or another, but I do remember the crowd bouncing to the jiggery like lunatics.

My night ended here with me having to leg it for the train at this point whilst simultaneously trying to keep a large quantity of liquid inside my body and realising I’m horribly unfit, so unfortunately Acoustic Womb, were missed, although I’m assured it was beautiful.

I’ll bet by this point Paul Priest hears people saying thanks in his sleep but it’s certainly deserved with effort gone through to make ‘Kin Hell Fest number II such a success, and creating a proper festival vibe at the well suited Templeworks. Well played all who contributed.

Michael Collins

Click here for full review of Friday 26th April
Click here for full review of Sunday 28th April