Alcest – France’s most beautiful-sounding metal band – deserve to play a venue commensurate with the grandiosity of their music, and the Electric Brixton’s Edwardian theatre space will do very nicely indeed. It’s becoming a major venue on the London metal scene, something I welcome given its top-notch sound, clear visibility, and ornate decor. I’m eager to hear Neige’s lush chords and soaring vocals fill this space, but first a pair of supports: someone unusual to start, someone solid and dependable to follow.
Any band with connections to Amenra tend to catch my attention. Formed in 2020 by Tim De Gieter, former member of the aforementioned Belgian post-metal band, Doodseskader sees the vocalist/bassplayer team up with vocalist/drummer Sigfried Burroughs. Performing before projections timed to the music, the duo play an experimental fusion of electronic, dance and metal styles, often with moody, semi-rapped/chanted vocals. At points it reaches sludge levels of caustic fury; at others, it matches that energy through the medium of trap and gabba.
Tim explains that he’s struggling through the tour with a “very nasty European cold” and apologizes for not being at his best. One can only assume his vocals are usually more aggressive or more powerfully melodic, because he’s doing a great job of sounding like the record tonight. I love a good power-duo and Doodseskader clearly brings out the best in both performers, with Tim striding across the stage and delivering a beautiful bass tone: warped, gnarled, and pixelated, like Light Cycling along an especially dark Tron arena. Sigfried has fantastic energy, his presence stretching far beyond the confines of the kit; each beat crisp and precise, a solid organic machine.
While it’s interesting to visualise some cool lines from their songs – “I dream of meat and furry walls”, “Malfunction carved into my mind” – the projections seem unnecessary and have the too-smooth vagueness of AI generation. But I’m nitpicking: I turn to my friend to declare that I’d see Doodseskader again – and now I can, at Roadburn in April nonetheless.
“Thank you thank you, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”
Hey, Svalbard, is it that time again? In case you’re not aware, Svalbard are one of the UK’s most well-loved and fiercely supported bands, combining post-hardcore, post-rock, and black metal to especially earnest and emotionally-charged effect. Serena, vocalist and guitarist, steps onto the stage with her trademark beaming smile, conveying a welcome sense of joy at getting to do this all over again. Immediately it feels like an especially heavy set, even for a band whose sound pulls no punches, and I’m sure there’s some older material slipped in amongst the new material and recent classics. Well yes, we get ‘Disparity’ and ‘For The Sake of The Breed’ tonight, dating back to 2015’s One Day All This Will End and 2018’s It’s Hard to Have Hope.
I reviewed Svalbard earlier in 2024 supporting the mighty Enslaved and found them to be rousing, moving, and fun; and I can’t improve on that this time around. Every time I see them I’m impressed by the incredible sincerity and power that they deliver without fail. They’ve never been a band that I listen to for hours on end at home, but they’re one that I never miss at a show, no matter how many times I’ve already seen them.
I’ve heard it advised that music reviewers should avoid using the adjective ‘ethereal’ as it’s become cliché. Well I’ve taken up this challenge today, but boy it’s going to be a tough one. I’ve seen Alcest – the French black-dreamgaze-metal stars – live many times, so I can confirm that they certainly warrant such superlatives. Whether they’ve been at their heaviest, playing screeching, wavering black metal, or their lightest, in clean, post-rock mode, Alcest always deliver a wonderful show, and always sound like no-one else. Tonight is no exception.
I’d say that Alcest are one of those bands who sound more and more like themselves with every release: constantly refining their already-unique sonic atmosphere. And it’s difficult to imagine that they might be able to refine it much further than on 2019’s Spiritual Instinct, but they somehow managed to do so on 2024’s Les Chants de l’aurore.
It’s taken me a little longer than usual to get into Les Chants de l’aurore – perhaps because its predecessor was so perfect – but tonight, when they kick off with new track ‘Komorebi’, it all falls into place. The stage is beautiful: the projections, sculptures, and lighting all presenting a version of the new album’s cover, complete with nymph-like pipers, setting sun, and graceful herons. Neige is similarly graceful, clad in loose-fitting linen garments, unfurling luscious, chiming chord progressions and commanding waves of feedback. The key to the sound is the power which comes from the rhythm section, allowing the guitars to shimmer over the top.
‘Sapphire’ from Spiritual Instinct has become one of my favourites, with its catchy drum patterns and driving guitar chords, but I think their song-writing peaked with Kodama’s ‘Oiseaux De Proie’. They’re clearly aware of this, using it to close the set proper, before the inevitable encore, and the opening moments of this track tonight bring tears to my eyes. They return to the stage with ‘Autre Temps’, inspiring a sing-along that spans the entirety of the multi-level venue; even if we don’t follow the French lyrics, we lovingly hum the melody.
Watching Alcest feels warm but not cosy, sheltered but not fully safe: cocooned within the sonic fairy land that Neige always used his band to develop. Some bands would run out of steam over a twenty-five year career, but Alcest have developed their sound so perfectly that there will never be another metal band who sounds quite like them, or who fits the definition of – sorry, I can’t do it – ethereality so perfectly. And that’s why I always return to their fey kingdom year in and year out.
