It’s a Sunday during the run-up to Christmas, so it’s a double opportunity for the UK’s favourite gothic black-metallers to bare a metaphorical bottom to all that is holy as their dark pantomime comes to town.
The stage curtain is swung back to reveal a scaffold-laden set which just about crams onto the available space. Lights flash, long-haired men with guitars swagger carefully down steps, Dani Filth bounds on – no mean feat in those stacked shoes – and it’s away into a jolly rendition of Gilded Cunt. However, as impressive a spectacle as this undeniably makes, it’s swiftly apparent that either the soundman has been at a few too many Xmas eggnogs or he’s embracing black metal’s lo-fi ethics.
Whatever the reason, the sound is dreadful, embracing the woolliest extremes of the sonic spectrum – the guitars buzz indistinctly like angry gnats in a tin can while the double bass drums boom away and everything else is lost in between. The vocals sound like they’re being yelled from a separate room while the keyboards and backing vocals, performed by an uncomfortable looking woman tucked away behind a lectern, are mostly lost. The Academy is hardly renowned for the quality of its sound, but even so this is demonically poor.
Fortunately the ‘Filth have put a bit of effort in the stage show, with two gargoyle-suited dancers, fire-jugglers and a giant demon marionette intermittently offsetting the muddy sonic indignities visited on the likes of Babylon AD and the excellent Nymphetamine.
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The ending comes abruptly, with a sudden crescendo of noise, blinding strobes and sparks from angle grinder-wielding dancers. Then as the stage lights come back up, only bassist Dave Pybus is left, sheepishly handing out plectrums. As Adrian Erlandsson emerges from behind his kit to distribute drum sticks to the crowd, the penny drops that that’s it. The house lights come on and with a distinct sense of bewildered anti-climax the crowd make for the exits.
During the set Dani had made reference to a boozy bender last night in Leeds and complained of a heavy hangover – certainly his more ambitious leaps seemed undertaken a little gingerly. If so then that’s all very rock and roll, Mr Filth, but perhaps next time a little more consideration for your paying customers might be nice – or wouldn’t that be satanic enough?
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