Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
Rock in whatever shape or form it takes is meant to be epic. The ultimate indefatigable rock n’ roll road-warrior Lemmy once said “People don’t want to see the guy next door on the stage, they want to see a being from another planet. You want to see somebody you’d never meet in ordinary life.” Criss-crossing a rather miserable, and oddly quiet, Sunday evening Bristol city centre we know for certain we’re in for something well removed from the mediocrity of a disinterested cover band attempting to breathe life into ‘the classics’ down the local boozer.
Well, there’s no aliens this evening but there is a brotherhood shrouded in high fantasy, a horde of undead led by their ‘life-giving’ doctor all leading up to a swooping alloy of superheroes stepping right of the pages of Marvel and DC Comics. I think it’s most safe to muse that Lemmy would approve of the concept and despatch. Box it up in whatever genre, subgenre, or niche-dwelling uniqueness you wish to apply, rocking amidst the summits will always be epic!
Cracking open the evening in fine, fine style are a brand-new band to myself even though they formed back in 2019. Careering out of the Haven port of Harwich four-piece Fellowship swiftly set about their quest of winning over an already swelling crowd in the well-appointed surrounds of Bristol’s SWX.
From the opening lines of a particularly spinetingling ‘Glory Days’ it’s transparently evident that vocalist Matthew Corry is in possession of a fine set of lungs. His wide-ranging output is reminiscent of a primetime Kai Hansen whilst also drawing healthy comparisons to Nils Molin (Amaranthe, Dynazty). Six-stringer Brad Wosko lights up even the darkest recesses with an intricate solo proving this isn’t merely a one-trick pony outfit. Far from it in fact.
Ear wiggling unicorns nestle comfortably amongst die-hard metalheads with all engaging noisily with a mutual core of genuine appreciation. In fact, as the rowdy cheers ring out for the regal metal of ‘Until The Fires Die’ just two tracks in it’s noteworthy that this outfit are receiving a reception reserved for the absolute best of support acts.
Corry notes “It’s been a long journey to get here” referencing breaking two guitars, having driven to Scotland twice and somehow losing a backdrop! “But thanks to Gloryhammer for having us” he concludes.
Bursting forth from the inferno the AOR majesty that is ‘Dawnbreaker’ shines further light upon Wosko’s fretwork atop thundering rhythms. The enigmatic Corry watches on, immersing himself in some air guitaring. The SWX crowd are right onside, savouring every moment of magic supplied by this fun-loving quartet.
Following the hard gallopings of ‘Hold Up Your Hearts (Again)’ Corry observes “I’ve never seen so many hearts in the crowd as tonight, we feel the love” and forms a heart of his own to salute the crowd and simultaneously provide the link into a surprise cover of Elton John’s ‘Can You Feel The Love Tonight’. It’s naturally metalled up and works so very well; it’s certainly enough for Kings and Vagabonds alike.
A guest appearance, in the set-closing muscly flexes of ‘Glint’, from Gloryhammer’s Angus McFife applies the seal of approval from the highest echelons. McFife, with approbation, pats Corry on the shoulder and raises his horns as thunder symphonically rolls. It’s a broth most sorcerous and one that promises much for the already bright future of this young band who bring The Lord of the Rings into realms metallic.
Serving up a substantive mid-order billing of undead horror and more than the odd ‘bump in the night’ Bavarian outfit Dominum rise from six feet under and ascend from their crypt of choosing. We first crossed paths with the immortal lord Dr. Dead and his army of metal zombies at last year’s Rockharz festival at the somewhat ungodly hour of 1am. Dead on our feet after a full thirteen hours of metal mayhem their effervescence stopped us in our tracks and ensured we made a pact to catch them in action when less tired and much more focussed.
Formed less than three years ago and having been snapped up by the expansive tastes of Napalm Records, this industrious horror-themed power metal band have already released two successful albums and cemented their position amongst the rapidly rising of European power metal having collaborated with the likes of fellow German metallers Feuerschwanz and Orden Ogan.
The footstomping contagion of ‘Immortalis Dominum’, a symphonic masterpiece with darkened daubs of Neue Deutsche Härte, sets the scene. Tapping his cane compelling frontman Dr. Dead, high on theatrical presence, whispers the hushed opening lines as his band of metalliferous undead assemble about him.
As per the running order of debut album ‘Hey Living People’ so the earthquaking ‘Danger Danger’ follows a rapid lick. The good doctor leads his creations further into the foray blending Dynazty and Orden Ogan to phenomenal demonic effect. The SWX ensemble is completely transfixed by this enthralling output that leaves them baying bloodthirstily for more.
If off the scale infectious power metal evoking the exalted likes of Ghost and Sabaton isn’t enough then how about turning a lullaby inside out and a full 360 degrees several times? Imagine such luminaries as Wednesday 13 or South of Salem transported into regions of obsidian symphonies and you’re on the correct tracks for the subtle Rammstein underpinning of the triumphant ‘The Dead Don’t Die’.
Dr. Dead and his unliving crew pay tribute to his inspiration. “There was one before me who made the perfect human” states the Doctor. Caliginous in its nature ‘Frankenstein’ sees the crowd go ape as fists, en bloc, punch skywards much to the band’s collective pleasure. ‘Don’t Get Bitten By The Wrong Ones’ soars upon high as the imperious doctor ‘commands’ guitarist Tommy Kemp up onto a platform for a searing solo prior to exerting similar control in a sizzling interpretation of Scorpions’ ‘Rock You Like A Hurricane’. Instead of a solo this time we witness a comedic ‘dance’; touches like this will ensure Dominum as a standout on the metal scene in my opinion.
This is more than merely a set, herein we worship at the metal alter and willingly relent to Dr. Dead’s request. “At metal shows we do metal things” he exclaims. With natural mastery, not often seen, the crowd are ramped up into a successful reverse jumping Mexican Wave from the rear of the venue to the barrier. Doing metal things en masse Bristol ensures the roof is lifted in the hooky environs of ‘The Guardians Of The Night’. Gloryhammer have a job on their hands to follow this for sure.
There are underlying messages within the zombie takeover with Dr. Dead stating that to his metal zombies irrespective of origin, size, and colour of skin ‘We All Taste The Same’. It’s an enthralling delivery, hands wave side to side throughout SWX as Dead places a finger to his lips. The crowd quietens reverently into a haunting segment that stalks corridors devoid of light.
The Lordi-esque drivings of ‘The Chosen Ones’ brings a hugely enjoyable and captivating 45 minutes of perfection to a glorious finale. There are murmurings, doing the rounds on social media, of UK dates with Feuerschwanz centred about the folk-metallers Bloodstock appearance in the summer. Now there’s something I’d love to see come to fruition!
Early chants of “Hoots!” emanate from the rambunctious but good-natured crowd as the stagehands and techs ready the SWX stage for our headliners Gloryhammer. There’s a vacant lot, to the right of the drumkit, where keyboards would’ve been positioned but it’s not unexpected as Zargothrax is now wielding six strings.
Out front and centre stands a familiar figure, well a cardboard cutout anyways. A certain Welsh legend who goes by the name of Tom Jones is looking a bit road worn, frayed, and crinkled about the edges. Nobody seems to care though as the whole venue, in fine voice it must be noted, sings along with Jones’ 1968 smash ‘Delilah’. It’s as cheesy as can be but the glitzy schmaltz is the perfect scene setter for the incoming larger than life Gloryhammer.
Clad as is ready for battle the quintet, one by one, emerge swathed in dry ice. Thundering kinetics from the off ensure SWX reacts wildly, much like the feline atop a particularly hot tin roof. The regal symphonics of the lengthily titled ‘Holy Flaming Hammer of Unholy Cosmic Frost’ whips up an extreme fervour. It’s evident from the off that this is a band with a seriously loyal fanbase.
The majestic aplomb of ‘The Land of Unicorns’ follows with the enjoyment of a rapturous crowd not, in the slightest, affected by a muddy sound. The impressive frontman Angus McFife’s vocals seem too far down the mix, his range and power are clear to behold but for whatever reason it’s not 100% translated via the PA.
If Disney did metal, then ‘Fly Away’ would be right amongst their forerunners. Chockful of hooky melodies and hard-hitting riffs and rhythms this is a track that has it all. An expressive McFife is flanked by an exuberant Ser Proletius brandishing a fiery Flying V. ‘He Has Returned’ is full metal glory harnessing the designs of Amaranthe diving gracefully into a lake of Dragonforce. A steamy pit has opened up as Proletius strikes a solo reminiscent of Helloween in their full prime.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” praises McFife as he warms up the crowd unashamedly furthering “Now you’re ready to sing about the greatest warrior who lived.” For the unenlightened, like myself, the frontman speaks of none other than ‘Angus McFife’ of course. This most rousing of rabble-rousers elicits lusty chants from all corners of SWX, this is the undoubted hero of all heroes.
Although there is no-one in from Scotland’s most northerly city ‘Questlords of Inverness, Ride to the Galactic Fortress!’ scorches a heroic path into the classical fanfare of Strauss’ ‘Also Sprach Zarathustra’. The Hootsman, back to crowd, raises a beer in his right hand as an exulted assembly chants his name. Post slurping the empty receptacle is launched into the baying mob. The Hootsman is most proud of the fact that in spite of spending a couple of weeks on a tour bus with a bunch of zombies his band have retained the title of Europe’s smelliest heavy metal band. Quite the accomplishment.
The thrashy output of ‘Wasteland Warrior Hoots Patrol’ sees a broadening of the moshing and an increasing of commitment to the cause. A bright green goblin gets in on the act with a side order of sax before returning, a couple of tracks later under a blue wig to reprise the role of Scardust’s Noa Gruman in the stampeding ‘Fife Eternal’.
The infectious ‘Gloryhammer’ is squeezed in between the frivolities of the grotesque, monstrous humanoid kind, gnomes, kobolds, and imps skitter in the shadows. Ser Proletius declares that we mighty warriors of Bristol to have proved ourselves in being mighty. “Let us take you back to a time in the future” he invites as he introduces the metalliferous jurisdictions of ‘Masters of Galaxy’.
The darkened tones of ‘The Siege of Dunkeld (In Hoots We Trust)’ harken of a nod towards Orden Ogan, the tempo is slowed but without any diminishment of the intensity. It’s the level of energies that the strongest of ramparts fear. Zargothrax cackles about beheading baby goblins in an interlude ahead of ‘Keeper of the Celestial Flame of Abernathy’. Sorcerous mischief is afoot in these parts.
Gloryhammer switch from their power metal to a hyper-AOR with ‘Universe On Fire’ that raises a flaming goblet to the gods. The first of the evening’s crowdsurfers go over the barrier whist beneath them the moshing escalates. ‘Hootsforce’ launches Bristol into a technicolour kaleidoscopic romp that edges into Sabaton territory. There’s surfing and moshing aplenty and this is crowd, whilst heartily satiated, will continue partying until first light.
Hi-fantasy spills over with uncommonly elevated levels of ebullience as a cracking hour and a half is cranked up to crescendo with the power metal roistering ‘‘The Unicorn Invasion of Dundee’. With this thunderbolt of lightening so Gloryhammer exit the stage safe in the knowledge that Bristol has, once again, been conquered. The National Anthem of Unst heralds their glorious success and another tour is concluded.
Photography by Kelly Spiller for MPM
