Dying Fetus/Job for a Cowboy/Revocation/Cerebral Bore – Brighton Concorde 2 – Sunday 16th September 2012
by Gary Lukes
Photos: Antony Roberts
Bestowed with an unenviably early time-slot, Cerebral Bore fail to disappoint. It’s been over twenty-four months since “Maniacal Miscreation” was belched into creation and the band have rarely left the road; burning rubber across the globe and tearing thousands of Americans a new one every night on their recent tour. By comparison, a couple of dozen south-coast punters must seem like easy pickings. Som’s monstrous gurgle and growls echo around the cavernous spaces, punctuated by the pounding guitar-work and technical noodlry of Paul McGuire and company during songs such as “The Bald Cadaver“. If ever there was a reason to wolf down your roast, this is it. Just don’t expect to keep it down. Unrelenting and sick as fuck.
American thrash/death whippersnappers Revocation have weathered the tempestuous sea of hype that accompanied their arrival over five years ago, arriving intact with album number three; their sophomore for Relapse. Slowly hollowing out their niche in the scene, they attack the Concorde 2 with a scattergun of shredding riffs and unforgiving death metal grenades. From the proggy instrumental musings of “Across forests and Fjords” to the scathing stomp of “No Funeral”, the band blaze through a blisteringly impressive set and finally inspire some actual movement on the floor.
Job for a Cowboy have managed to morph from deathcore whipping boys to respectable death metal disciples over the years. Carving out a set of solid, if slightly uninspiring brutality; vocalist Jonny Davy switches between an impressive low-end growl and a god-awful, ear-piercing screech that‘d even raise Dani Filth’s hackles. While some of the crowd seem determined to call out for earlier material, the band thankfully carry on regardless.
It’s Sunday night, and you can be certain Dying Fetus don’t give two fucks about Downton Abbey. Maryland’s most merciless bulldoze the seafront with ditties such as “Subjected to a Beating”, “Invert the Idols” and “Fornication Terrorists”. Frontmen John Gallagher and Sean Beasley stand static like twin monoliths, their trademark alternating vocals duelling over hulking songs smothered in bruising breakdowns. Fist-smashing death metal anthems flow thick and fast, its barbaric bluster tethered only by the technical flourishes pockmarking their length.
Unfortunately, most of the crowd seem content to mull it all over and gaze at their shoes. A tough challenge for a band acquainted with transforming the meekest of mosh-pits into the most brutal of bear-pits. But that doesn’t prevent the jackhammer palpitations of tracks like “Skullfucked” and “Homicidal Retribution” moving people’s heads as if they’re being battered by concrete. With guitars switched from “stun” to “kill“, the band return onstage; encoring with the sweep-picking mayhem of “Pissing in the Mainstream” and a bloodthirsty “Kill Your Mother, Rape Your Dog”. The title of the new album says it all; “Reign Supreme“ indeed.
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