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Krisiun Concert Review
I suppose I should start taking The Pearl Room at their word. Most other venues post door times on their site, but for every concert I’ve attended down in Mokena the time posted on their site is the time the first band begins, last Sunday included. I had hoped to fit my interview in with Belphegor before their set, which was scheduled for 7:00, but by 6:15 when we got in the door, the concert’s opening group, Lupara, were already halfway done. Neither could I get ahold of the tour manager to coordinate one, which in turn required some creative effort on my part between sets.
The crowd at this point was woefully sparse, with maybe 20 people total scattered from front to back of the moderately sized main floor. The top level had been cordoned off, as usual for death metal shows at The Pearl Room, but I had expected more people to arrive by that point and was a little nervous that the crowd would not grow much larger at all. They did not seem too inspired either, by Lupara’s performance, which made their modest number all the more foreboding.
Lupara is a fairly new group featuring ex-Broken Hope guitarist Jeremy Wagner, which was enough of a pedigree to make my ears perk when I was introduced to them. Craig Gross, the vocalist, unfortunately distracts from whatever decent songwriting and solos the band has managed to put together, though, with his unforgivably metalcore style and attitude. Perhaps there is a place for Lupara somewhere in the scene, but opening for Unleashed is not it. Fortunately, they did not play for long.
Belphegor promptly followed, spending little time messing around on stage and getting straight to the music. The first member to enter was a lanky character with dark hair and a fishnet shirt, and for a moment I thought he was Sigurd. Once I saw that he was carrying a bass, though, I realized my error with relief. Nothing against Serpenth, but I somehow pictured the mastermind duo of Belphegor to be significantly more intimidating than my first impression of this touring bassist. As it turned out, Sigurd really wasn’t much more intimidating than Serpenth: also a lanky, dark-haired guy who spent most of his time just standing in his spot with his hair in his face. At least he wasn’t wearing a fishnet shirt.
Whatever those two lacked in presence, Helmuth made up in spades. His harsh features, long blonde hair, pentagram necklaces, and thickly muscled arms all combined to make him the perfect picture of a modern Aryan terror. After the band blasted through a brief intro instrumental bit to grab the audience’s attention, this first impression was reaffirmed when he approached the microphone and barked, ‘Ve ahrr Belphegor—ve komm to do ze Devil’s vuurk!’ before almost drowning out the last words with the perfect opener, ‘Hell’s Ambassadors’.
Now, my main concern for their set was the snare, as its sound on ‘Pestapokalypse VI’ was pretty god-awful. Fortunately, while the kit had plenty of attack in its sound, the snare did not stand out too much. Helmuth did have to gesture for a couple adjustments to the vocals, and Sigurd commented later that he wasn’t happy with the mix, either, but it sounded appropriately hellish in the audience overall.
Belphegor’s setlist stuck pretty consistently to their recent trio of albums, and did not include any slower songs like ‘Sepulture of Hypocrísy’, which was a little disappointing, but it did lend their short set a better sense of continuity, I suppose. And a short set it was, at just over half an hour, but absolutely packed with intensity and power. ‘Hell’s Ambassadors’ really impressed the crowd, I think, and their energy was maintained throughout.
Reflecting now, Helmuth was really the only one who moved around all that much. He would gesture to the crowd, thrust his arms out to either side, and grimace constantly, which would have been a little comical had he not sounded so demonic. For the shrieked lines, he would always tilt his head a little to the side, and did not seem quite as comfortable doing them as the standard growls, but both extremes sounded excellent, and his guitarwork was similarly spot on. Sigurd and Serpenth tended to stick to their respective sides, the former practically never moving from his stiff-legged pose, the latter banging his head but not much more than that, each anchoring their dense attack and letting Helmuth lead the way.
Also, considering the fact that their session drummer Lille Gruber had only two days to practice with them before the tour started, he was seriously impressive. Not the complete tempest presence the album had (poppy snare or no), but certainly formidable and nearly mechanical, which fit in well with the band’s style. If there was anything to criticize, it was his attire. Now, metal is usually a pretty casual genre when it comes to outfits, but band continuity tends to be a good thing. I’m not saying he should have busted out a fishnet tank top like Serpenth, but something other than a solid color T-shirt and jeans would have been more fitting, I think.
By the end of their set the venue had filled up nicely (again, for a death metal show), and when they played their last song, ‘Swarm of Rats’, the crowd yelled, growled, shrieked, etc. in approval.
After they’d left (but not before Helmuth had thrust his guitar into the audience with a snarl), their backdrop was quickly lowered, and Unleashed’s was attached, with Krisiun’s much smaller one, a pentagram, draped over it. Those brothers three came out and started fixing their gear, and it quickly became apparent that they would play live just as they do in the studio, without any touring back-up whatsoever. After the bludgeoning that was ‘Assassination’, it was easy to forget that there were only three of them, and I was interested to see how well they lived up to that standard. Their set-up was quick, after only a few minutes they were prepared to play. I had spent some time wandering around trying to set up the Belphegor interview, so I didn’t see Krisiun’s formal introduction, but I made it back to the front in time for the beginning of their set.
Dark, mustachioed, in combat boots and camo, they were a remarkable contrast to the stereotypically Germanic mechanical and precise presence that Belphegor had. They were no less impressive, though, and I without a doubt tip my hat to them as the absolute fastest band I have seen perform live. Not necessarily from a general standpoint, as a number of their songs had some pretty strong mid-paced tempos and quasi-grooves, but when they decide to let loose they really are blistering. It is true that their material is not the most technical, which allows for some more speed, but that did not make Max’s drum solo or Moyses’s sweeps any less incredible. Not to neglect Alex, either, whose bass picking kept up with both his brothers admirably, even while at the microphone. I was standing in front of his amp for most of the set, too, so I could really focus on his style. Straightforward, but with some interesting, almost funky elements used from time to time. Not what I would have expected.
I had also expected them to open with a track from ‘Assassination’, but they did not. Instead, they waited until at least halfway through their set to introduce those new songs, and then only played a few, ‘Bloodcraft’ and ‘Vicious Wrath’ included. The remainder was most early songs, which were in keeping with the mantra that Alex kept repeating between songs: “This is fuckin’ underground, man, death metal, this ain’t no rock star bullsheet, we ain’t up here to prove nothin’, we just play fuckin’ metal, man. Are you ready for some more? I said, are you ready for some more?” This was literally repeated at least four times. Not that I disagreed with him.
He also praised us, the audience and fans collectively, for being loyal, serious, true metalheads. This, too, was repeated more than once, but his words sounded legitimate and genuine, and not your average crowd-pleasers. My favorite comment of his, though, was perhaps his shortest—one that well represented the entire Krisiun experience: “This one’s from our second album. It’s a brutal motherfucker, dood.” Hearing that from a man who reminded me of a metalized Cheech, I could not help but laugh.
They closed with the blasphemous title track from ‘Conquerors of Armageddon’, introducing it with something to the effect of: “This is a song about a dood, who was supposed to save the world, save us from sin. But he fucked up, and he got crucified, and he ain’t comin’ back, not ever, and he ain’t savin’ shit.” This proverbial middle finger (and the song itself, of course) left the audience in as high spirits as they reached all night, some of us chanting for more, others already heading for the tables to pick up some merch. Also, extra kudos to Max for the drum solo, which he placed between two of the fastest songs they played all night, not to mention towards the end of the set when any man of flesh and blood would have been lagging. He pulled it off beautifully, though, with some of the most consistent and even blastbeats I’ve heard, throwing the horns in the air to boot. Even the poor guitar production, which almost entirely obscured Moyses’s solos, could not lessen the impact Krisiun made on the crowd.
After their set, I moved out again to look for Belphegor. A little surprisingly, Sigurd and Helmuth were standing towards the back, just drinking beers and chatting with fans quite amiably. Certainly not what I’d expected after their stage show, and with the general malcontent of their lyrics in mind. Sigurd was who I ended up interviewing, and his soft-spoken voice almost was too soft for my recorder to pick up on. His opinions were not soft, though, and our half-hour conversation was more involved and revealing than I would have expected, covering topics from Church gang-bangs to Raison D’être, of whom he is a fan.
Once I finished, gave my thanks, and made it back to the front, Unleashed was just making their entrance, one by one. As I later learned, all of them are original members except for the lead guitarist, Fredrik. I knew that Johnny (bass/vocals) was the band’s founder, and judging by the lines on Anders’s (drums) face, I figured he was, too. What I did not at all expect was that fresh-faced Thomas Olsson (rhythm guitar) was also one as well—he hardly looks thirty. He was as energized as Johnny, though, and noticeably more aggressive with the audience than anyone that night, which would have seemed a little odd for a session member after all, I suppose.
Although I could have guessed what their opener would be, I still wasn’t ready for it. Johnny looks like an amiable chap in person, and from the way he smiled at the audience, resting his hands on his hips, bass slung before him, it looked as though he might chat with us a bit, but instead we were treated to one of his trademark howls and the onslaught of ‘Blood of Lies’, Unleashed’s most aggressive track in years. It was a galvanizing opener and a good follow-up to the brutality of Krisiun that had preceded them. Unleashed’s style is not what one would consider ‘brutal’ on its own, but the band have a rather weighty presence about them that demands attention, both physically and aurally.
After a couple tracks from ‘Midvinterblot’, Johnny paused long enough to greet us and say, “Unleashed has returned!” before returning to their setlist. His voice was surprisingly high and raspy, and oddly enough, had I not known him to be Swedish, from his vocal inflection and looks I would have taken him for an Irishman. When playing, he would assume a splayed leg stance, bobbing up and down and turning his head slowly from side to side along with each song’s ubiquitous grooves. Seeing as how Unleashed are a fairly simplistic band, to put it bluntly, Johnny had plenty of time to gesture with his arms, throwing them up in the air, towards the audience, or swinging his picking hand back in a grand gesture and looking upwards at the ceiling, really taking advantage of the spotlight. Overall, he managed to look pretty majestic for a stocky, nearly middle-aged guy in a leather vest. The other members also did a good job of energizing the crowd, Thomas in particular, moving from side to side, leaning out over the crowd and goading some less enthused audience members into action. If I had any technical critique of the band’s set, it would be that Fredrik’s solos would trip up briefly here or there, but never in a way that disrupted the rest of the band’s flow, and the impact was ultimately minimal.
They played songs from all throughout their career, with the earliest and most recent material getting the best response from the crowd. For a couple, (‘In Victory or Defeat’, ‘Death Metal Victory’) Johnny asked for crowd participation, particularly towards the end of each, where the band would repeat its phrase and then the audience their own lines until he deemed us loud enough.
At one point, both guitars cut out, leaving Anders’s drums and Johnny’s bass the only things audible for nearly half a minute. The stage crew were fairly quick about fixing it, and both guitarists played on, regardless of amplification, which I commend them for, so the hiccup was largely a non-event.
After about an hour, they made their first departure. We all knew this wasn’t the end, though, and the claps and chants continued until they came back out for the three song encore, which included ‘Winterland’, which sounds absolutely monstrous live. After those three, they left the stage, again rather quickly, and we got the feeling they were still not yet done. The chanting gained strength this time, and Johnny did not keep us waiting long, coming back out to give us thanks, ask what we wanted to hear, and eventually settling on ‘The Immortals’, and leaving again after that to the strongest applause of the night.
But they were still not done. I think, too, despite our obvious appreciation, many in the audience felt that three encores was a little much, and might have preferred two songs in a row to end instead of the peek-a-boo routine. Unleashed made it worth the while, though. Johnny brought out a massive drinking horn filled with ale this time, took a mighty draught himself, and then asked who was thirsty before tossing the remainder out upon the audience. A fun gimmick, to be sure, and appropriate, considering such songs in their set like, ‘To Asgaard We Fly’, and how Johnny would refer to us as his ‘warriors’. After this display, they finally closed with ‘Before the Creation of Time’, all as boisterous and loud as they were to begin the set, and then clasped hands with the first row of fans and claimed loudly, ‘Unleashed will return!’
If they can manage that sort of display every time, not to mention bring around such exceptional international talent in support, I certainly hope that they do. Although for a while there (i.e. during the remarkably uninspiring Lupara) it was looking rather dire, I ought not to have doubted the Viking forefathers’ ability to summon their warriors and valkyries to battle. A swig of that drinking horn ale doesn’t sound so bad, either.
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