“I will never die a silent death.“
Photography by Anton Smeeton – contact Anton prior to any image use.
Nails
A key force in the ongoing binding of hardcore with the broader world of extreme metal subgenres, Nails sit at a unique intersection of subcultures, drawing in fans from a whole palette of disparate scenes in mutual appreciation of high-gain distortion. Frontman Todd Jones‘ gutteral growl sits high in the mix as he continually pushes his lungs and 5150 to their limits, cycling through songs at an absolutely blistering rate. That tonight is not an ordinary Monday is in no way lost on the audience. They need no goading to turn the dancefloor to a whirlpool of action, even the moshers themselves look shocked at the instant, escalating chaos unravelling around them. Bodies are launched from crowd to stage and stage to crowd while the pit spins, expands and piles toward the microphone, insensible on alcohol and excitement in equal measure. London knows that it’s enjoying a rare moment and leaps to attention every time it’s acknowledged by the band. Ripping through a disproportionate chunk of their back catalogue in mere minutes, by the time “Unsilent Death” caps the set the whole room is a mist of sweat and panting bodies.
Carcass
For any band to have lasted 41 years is a truly mammoth achievement. The collective stress of touring, writing and recording crushes many acts in their infancy, and even under the most forgiving circumstances the weight of responsibility can strain the strongest relationships, it’s really no wonder why so many bands implode under the pressure before long. This makes for an uncommon pleasure to be able to enjoy a band like Carcass tonight, fathers to a fistful of heavy music’s nastiest subgenres with multiple landmark albums to their name. They enjoy a near peerless pedigree that reflects decades of experience and a discography that has managed to keep them relevant throughout their tenure as some of metals leading men.
Putting in an appearance at one of the UK’s most beloved club venues gives us a rare insight into what a Carcass show might have felt like in death metal’s early days. With no barrier, stripped of everything but the men and their music, they can pull on a deep catalogue that holds some of the most beloved songs in the death-metal canon. Iconic tracks like “Buried Dreams” and “Carnal Forge” are delivered with an urgency that could humble bands whose members hadn’t been born when “Heartwork” dropped. Frontman Jeff Walker sounds a man possessed, with a voice that shrills and howls a perfect reflection of the morbid imagery conjured up in Carcass‘ music. Tales of torture and surgical implements aside, it’s the humour and chemistry between the men onstage that shines tonight. Playful teasing over a rushed drum fill or sore throat can hardly distract from the fact that Carcass take these things in their stride, effortlessly reeling out songs as casually as a band might do in rehearsal. Unfazed by the vortex of bodies moving on and around the stage, they delivered a truly remarkable technical performance.
Perhaps the biggest takeaway from tonight is firm evidence of extreme music having the potential to age with dignity, while so many artists burn out or slowly fade away in a haze of substance use and overconfidence. To watch Carcass continue to do justice to their material opens up a new perspective on how heavy music can hold on to its current wave of popularity and relevance, what performance looks like from veteran bands and the vital role of club shows in the gig economy.