Review & Photography by Manny Manson for MPM
Nottingham’s Rescue Rooms has seen its fair share of packed-out rock shows, but this was something else. A sold-out venue, a crowd buzzing with anticipation, and a line-up built for destruction.
South of Salem’s “Death of the Party” tour has been the talk of the ‘underground’ rock world for months, with tickets disappearing almost instantly and resale options nowhere to be found.
Before we got to the main horror show, there were two brutal support acts ready to shake the walls—In Search of Sun and High Parasite.
Long before the doors were even fully open, the thunderous sound of ‘In Search of Sun’ was already bleeding out onto the pavement. This London-based band have been carving their own path through the alternative, prog, and metal world, they’re a band that’s spent the last decade honing their craft and defying easy categorisation. Formed in 2011, they made waves with their first album, The World is Yours (2014), which mixed melodic hooks with hard-hitting riffs. Their follow-up, Virgin Funk Mother (2017), leaned further into their genre-blending tendencies, incorporating funk, groove, and massive vocal harmonies.
In Search of Sun have evolved from their early progressive metalcore roots into something bigger, bolder, and entirely their own. Their fusion of soaring melodies, intricate rhythms, and gut-punching heaviness has taken them across festival stages and onto tours with some of the scene’s biggest names, the likes of SikTh, Bullet for My Valentine, and Stone Broken, they’ve steadily built a reputation as one of the UK’s most dynamic live acts.
Tonight, they were tasked with the toughest job—firing up a Nottingham crowd that was still filtering in, beer in hand, readying themselves for the chaos to come.
None of that mattered once “Mega Piranha” struck. Opening with a riff that felt like a steel-toed boot to the chest, the track exploded into a groove-laden assault that immediately had heads nodding and fists pumping. Frontman Adam Leader prowled the stage with a wild-eyed intensity, his voice shifting between powerful cleans and raw, visceral screams. The band—Rory Kay and David Mena Ferrer locking in tight on guitars, Faz Couri holding down the low end on bass, and Mikey Gee pounding out precision-heavy grooves on drums—played with an energy that refused to be ignored.
As the final chord rang out, “In the Garden” took over, its atmospheric intro washing over the crowd before morphing into an anthemic, groove-driven juggernaut. The contrast between shimmering, ethereal verses and earth-shaking choruses highlighted exactly what makes In Search of Sun such a unique force in modern heavy music. The lighting bathed the stage in deep red, adding to the track’s ominous, slow-burn intensity before it erupted into a maelstrom of distortion and soaring vocals.
“The Fire I Play With” ignited the next wave of momentum, a hard-hitting powerhouse that rode the line between melody and aggression with effortless precision. The pit—small at first—began to expand, bodies moving, the energy contagious. Leader grinned, feeding off the growing frenzy as the band locked into their heaviest grooves yet. When the song hit its massive climax, the entire venue felt like it was shaking, the sound system groaning under the weight of their sonic assault.
By the time “Contagious” kicked in, the Rescue Rooms was fully onboard. A track built for a live setting, its pulsating rhythm and infectious chorus (fittingly) had the front rows chanting back at the stage. Rory Kay’s lead guitar work shone here, delivering searing melodies that wove in and out of the song’s dynamic shifts. The lighting strobed in time with the off-tempo breakdowns, adding to the sense of chaos and movement, and Leader played the part of ringleader perfectly, rallying the crowd into a call-and-response that grew louder with each chorus.
With barely a breath between songs, “Rhythm” crashed in, its slamming, percussive groove immediately getting the entire venue moving. This was In Search of Sun at their tightest—every note, every cymbal crash, every vocal layer perfectly executed yet still carrying the raw energy of a band hungry to prove themselves. The breakdown hit like a landslide, and suddenly, the crowd wasn’t just watching—they were part of it, surging forward, throwing horns, enjoying themselves in the sheer force of the music.
And then came “Bad Girl,” the final blow. A song that effortlessly combined funk-infused swagger with blistering heaviness, it was the perfect way to close the set. Leader strutted across the stage, microphone in hand, a mischievous glint in his eye as he delivered the song’s groove-laden verses before launching into its euphoric, high-energy chorus. By the time the final notes rang out, the crowd—now fully engaged, warmed up, and ready for the night ahead—roared their approval.
As the band took their bows and exited, it was obvious that they had done exactly what they came to do. In Search of Sun had taken a restless, scattered audience and turned them into a pulsing, exhilarated mass, primed for the chaos still to come. This wasn’t just a warm-up. This was a warning: ignore this band at your peril.
A fantastic opening act that left everyone wondering why these guys aren’t playing bigger venues already.
Rock City might have been the site of their previous conquest, but tonight, ‘High Parasite’ descended upon the Rescue Rooms like a sonic virus spreading through a crowd that was more than willing to be infected. With a sound that merges industrial grit, razor-edged metal, and a macabre sense of melody, High Parasite have been carving their name into the underground with all the subtlety of a chainsaw to the chest. Formed in 2021, in the darker recesses of the UK metal scene, the band features the ever-striking, Aaron Stainthorpe, the frontman in the white suit—bald, enigmatic, and possessing a voice that can switch between guttural snarls and haunting cleans at will. Then there’s Tombs, a bassist who plays like he’s summoning demons with every note, locking in with a rhythm section that brings an unrelenting pulse to their mechanical, dystopian grooves. Together they propel their own brand of metal they’ve christened ‘Death Pop’ on society to huge acclaim, releasing their debut album,” Forever We Burn” in 2024. The band is finished with Dan Brown on drums (no not the Da Vinci code writer) and Johnny Hunter and Sam Hill on guitars.
When the stage lights flickered and the first ominous electronic hum rang out, the crowd surged forward, anticipation crackling in the air. “Parasite” detonated into existence, a grinding industrial beast of a track that upset the order of the world, with hammering riffs and bone-rattling bass. The Stainthorpe prowled the stage like a preacher at the altar of chaos, his guttural vocals slicing through the strobe-lit haze. If there was any doubt that this was going to be an unrelenting set, it was quickly obliterated as “Concentric Nightmares” bled into life, a slow-burning, synth-laced dirge that spiralled into a full-blown assault of precision drumming and churning guitars.
The band thrives on contrast—brutality laced with moments of eerie beauty—and “Grave Intentions” proved it. The opening riff sliced through the air like a buzzsaw, but it was the chorus, with its unexpectedly melodic hook, that had fists pumping and heads banging in unison. The crowd, already fully converted, needed no encouragement to throw themselves deeper into the maelstrom, and the band responded in kind, their energy feeding off the sheer chaos in the crowd.
“Wasn’t Human” saw the lights dim to near darkness, a single white spotlight casting jagged shadows across the stage as the track’s pulsing electronic heartbeat gave way to another furious display of technical precision. Tombs was a force of nature on bass, his playing a deep, guttural counterpoint to the razor-sharp guitars, while Stain Thorpe’s white suit was now slick with sweat, his voice taking on an almost desperate intensity.
As if to up the ante, “Hate Springs Eternal” kicked in like a sonic explosion, a full-throttle attack that had the front rows bouncing against the barrier. The chorus, a snarling chant, was screamed back at the stage with an almost religious fervour, and by this point, the Rescue Rooms felt less like a gig venue and more like the eye of a storm.
There was barely a moment to breathe before the angular, chugging intro of “Let It Fail” snapped the room back to attention, the song’s unnerving quiet moments giving way to another monstrous climax. The band had the audience utterly in their grip, and when they launched into “Forever We Burn,” the entire venue became a seething mass of bodies moving in sync with the music. This was High Parasite at their finest—visceral, uncompromising, and utterly captivating.
As the final notes rang out and the band stood triumphant, taking in the roaring applause, it was clear they had left their mark. High Parasite had not just put on a performance to warm the crowd; they consumed, infected, and spread. Tonight, Nottingham was well and truly theirs.
South of Salem – Death of the Party Tour
Nottingham’s Rescue Rooms had been a furnace of anticipation for months. South of Salem’s Death of the Party tour had sold out long ago, and tickets were like gold dust—if gold dust could howl, stomp, and rip your face off with a wall of gothic hard rock. The venue, packed from front to back, was a seething mass of bodies, every inch claimed by a devoted fan, clad in previous tour tee shirts, some with faces painted with excitement and the promise of something darkly spectacular. The anticipation was obviously electric. But when the lights dimmed, unleashing South of Salem onto the stage, that charge ignited into an inferno.
Emerging from the coastal shadows of Bournemouth, South of Salem have built a formidable reputation for their sinister storytelling and anthemic, riff-driven rock. With a sound that bridges the gap between Wednesday 13’s horror theatrics and Avenged Sevenfold’s stadium-level choruses, their rise has been meteoric. Their 2020 debut, The Sinner Takes It All, introduced them as the UK’s best-kept secret in gothic hard rock, but with Death of the Party, they’ve come into their own—a band no longer lurking in the shadows but commanding the darkness itself.
The atmosphere in the Rescue Rooms was thick with menace as the opening strains of “Let Us Pray” rumbled through the PA. Silhouettes emerged onto the three risers at the front of the stage, backlit like wraiths, before the full force of the song crashed in. Joey Draper, a shadowy figure in a tattered black jacket, a single eye glaring out, off the tee shirt worn beneath, stalked the stage like a man possessed, his rasping vocals slicing through the razor-sharp twin guitars of Denis Sheriff and Kodi Kasper. The crowd pulsating, fists in the air, already screaming back every word.
Then, an unexpected left turn. Draper smirked, eyes gleaming under the blood-red lighting, as they launched into their gothic reimagining of Savage Garden’s “To the Moon and Back.” The pop sheen of the original was long gone, replaced by a melancholic weight, an eerie, crawling darkness woven into every note. Where the original soared, South of Salem’s version brooded, the guitars seething beneath Draper’s haunted delivery. The contrast was chillingly effective, proving that even in a set designed to pummel, the band could shift gears into something hauntingly beautiful.
As the last notes faded, new song, “Fallout” tore through the venue like a shockwave, its thunderous bassline, provided by Darren ‘Dee’ Aldwell, fittingly dressed to take part in ‘Día de los Muertos, pounded like a war drum. The entire room was a blur of movement, bodies bouncing in a euphoric riot of sound and sweat. Up against the two LED outlined coffins we had dancing girls, writhing along to the deathly groove. Joey then took time out to announce that they were now going to play ‘Death of the Party’ in its entirety, this went down with excitement of Joan of Arc being burnt at the stake for Heresy. They kicked off with “Vultures,” with its creeping, slithering verses giving way to a massive, hook-laden chorus, Sheriff peeling off searing lead guitar lines as Draper prowled the edge of the stage, teasing the front row with every venomous lyric.
A moment of respite arrived in the form of “Static,” its atmospheric intro draped in ghostly reverb. This was a slow-burner, creeping and sinister, Draper’s voice thick with emotion, his presence commanding. The crowd swayed as if caught in a trance, the weight of the song settling heavy on their shoulders before “Jet Black Eyes” snapped them back into motion, a stomping, snarling anthem that saw the entire band flex their collective muscle. The chemistry was undeniable—Kasper and Sheriff trading licks with devilish glee, Aldwell’s bass grooving hard, and Clarke behind the kit, a relentless powerhouse.
From there, the set turned darker still. “Stitch The Wound” was venomous, dripping with gothic grandeur, Draper’s vocals twisting into an almost demonic growl. The lighting flashed in rapid pulses of blood red and ultraviolet, casting eerie shadows that danced across the crowd. “Left for Dead” followed, weaving its cinematic, vengeful tale with menacing precision, the band leaning fully into their horror storytelling. Theatrical and powerful, it was a moment where you could almost feel the walls closing in, the band drawing the audience deeper into their sinister world.
The momentum only grew with “Hellbound Heart,” a filthy, swaggering slice of rock and roll debauchery, every riff sharper than a razor blade. Draper sneered through the lyrics, eyes scanning the crowd like a preacher ready to claim new converts. Bad Habits was a masterclass in sleaze, a song that slithered and stomped with equal measure, while Die Hard sent the Rescue Rooms into a frenzied riot, its unrelenting pace whipping the front rows into an absolute storm.
Then came “Death of a Party,” the title track, its brooding intro swelling into a dramatic, full-throttle explosion of guitars and soaring melodies. This was South of Salem at their most cinematic, every moment designed for maximum impact. The stage setup—flanked by two backlit coffins—only added to the grandiose spectacle, with two dancing girls twisting in front of the flickering lights, their movements both mesmerising and unsettling.
The band left the stage for a moment, giving the spotlight to Clarke for a thunderous drum solo. The crowd clapped along, feeding into the primal energy, before the band stormed back on, ready to deliver the final blows.
“A Life Worth Dying For hit” first, its slow build giving way to an anthemic, chest-thumping climax that had the entire room chanting along. “Villain” followed, a snarling beast of a song, Draper’s presence at its most commanding, pacing the stage like a ringmaster orchestrating pure chaos. The main set could have ended there, but South of Salem weren’t done yet.
As the band disappeared into the darkness once more, the crowd refused to let go, chanting their name, demanding more. The response? A two-song encore that cemented this gig as one of the year’s defining shows. “Demons Are Forever” brought the room together in an unholy communion, a soaring, atmospheric powerhouse that felt like a hymn for the damned. Then, with one final surge, an extended “Cold Day in Hell” detonated into the night, a relentless, stomping beast that left the crowd breathless and begging for more.
And then—darkness. A moment of stunned silence, and then a deafening roar. South of Salem had come, conquered, and left their mark in the most spectacularly macabre way possible. The band got the crowd to pose for the obligatory after show photo before bidding farewell. As the audience staggered out into the cold Nottingham air, faces still lit with exhilaration, one thing was certain— It was an experience. A nightmare given form. A rock and roll séance conducted with fire, fury, and the kind of anthems that don’t just get stuck in your head, but claw their way into your soul.
Based on tonight’s show I reckon that tongue in cheek reference to Kodi having a swimming pool isn’t too far off….
