Articles by Harry Holmes
This is an album for the dark months of the year. . . an album for the autumn, for the heavy dampness of our winter, down to the colour palette of the cover, an obscure image that should perhaps be obvious. What is that there, reflected in still and cold water? Something dim and shaggy, an indeterminate horror. . . Or an inanimate thing, tricking the eyes into finding meaning?
A big event that is sustaining itself, putting up a stage for lots of jobbing UK bands, and pulling in an honourable selection of big, extreme international players. . . Get Mammothed!
I rolled up my trouser legs and got stuck in. Under an hour later I am soaked through in the chemical sweat of a dozen half-naked Welsh lads, and no it’s not a chemsex party, it’s Cattle Decapitation smashdown time.
Here was a savage Tuesday night line-up, not stuck in a genre rut but with a unifying viciousness and intent to explore that crisis point. Much as Old Market and the Bristol crowd is practically home, I spent a fair bit of the night feeling out of my comfort zone, as a listener and as a writer, but then what comfort is there in the face of such a range of alienating horror? Harry Holmes reports back from seeing Full Of Hell in Bristol.