DISOnce more, Old Empire have pulled off another sold out event, managing to fill the 300-capacity Borderline in Soho to the brim with people all eager to witness the infamous live spectacle that is Dragged into Sunlight. Right from the start of the evening, the blackened death metal troupe’s trademark is stamped all over the venue, as the doorman walks up and down the long queue outside warning everyone of the use of strobe lighting. It’s also noticeably colder inside than it is out, failing to warm up even as it becomes more crowded – another prelude to the visceral performances about to take place.

South Wales’ death metal five piece, Venom Prison, open the show. The respectable sized crowd that has already gathered are immediately drawn towards the stage as a feral blast of hardcore tinged riffs ring forth. The metallic squeals of the guitars are rooted firmly into murky, traditional death metal territory by the impressive, throaty growls provided by vocalist, Larissa. If there’s one performance that gets the crowd moving tonight then this is it; high octane from start to finish and pumped full of infectious zeal.

The lights are dimmed and a horrifically unsettling reading of bible passage Revelation 16 (The Seven Bowls of God’s Wrath) blares out from the PA. With such an atmospheric build up to Gnaw Their Tongues it’s not unreasonable to expect for the ensuing set to follow suit. Sadly, this is not the case; while the vocals and guitars are suitably heavy, it falls flat in terms of living up to dark grandeur that’s been built up on record. There’s no commanding stage presence and nothing to accompany the simplicity of a man on stage with a guitar, while two people handle the drums and samples via a laptop. The crowd are completely unmoved, which is a shame as the music itself is faultless, there’s just no enthusiasm from the people on stage or even a simple light show to add something that’s obviously missing. A disappointing anti-climax.

The excitement into the build-up of Dragged into Sunlight taking the stage is palpable, as the respective deer skulls are put into place, the candles are lit and the heady smell of incense fills the air. After the smoke machine has created an impenetrable smog, the infamous Aileen Wuornos quote “you’re an inhumane bunch of fuckin’ livin’ bastards and bitches and you’re gonna get your asses nuked” screams forth before that first horrible crash of the drum cymbal hits like a punch in the gut. The primitive and deadly qualities of this violent powerhouse of a show enrapture the audience, as the strobes project the silhouettes of each band member through the smoke. From start to finish ears take an overwhelming battering as pendulous blastbeats accompany vile and contorted screams and barks of the vocals. At a mere 45 minutes, it feels as though it has ended all too soon. A short but thoroughly enjoyable punishment.

(Review by Angela Davey)