PsycropticOnce the butt of many a joke within Wollongong's metal scene, several years and a host of line-up changes later New Blood had stepped up their game. Although their death metal was still somewhat nondescript, noticeably enhanced stage presence and musicianship proved a welcome sight, as was the healthy early turnout.
The majority present wouldn't have known a Bane Of Isildur song if it stormed through their front door covered in war paint, a notion reinforced by the uncertain response from some punters. The Sydneysiders' battle-ready Enslaved/Amon Amarth fusion was convincingly executed though, their penchant for windmill head-banging likely helping enlist a few new converts to the cause by set's end. The circle-pit incited would seemingly indicate as much.
On the topic of expanding followings, judging by the packed room and roaring trade at the merchandise table, King Parrot's legend is growing with each show. The bane of security guards nationwide, frontman Matt 'Youngy' Young's reputation for fearlessly running amok throughout venues preceded him, a significant percentage of those present simply wanting to see what all the fuss was about. The madcap Melburnians have taken their thrashy grindcore anywhere that will allow them during the past 12 months, and were therefore mighty road-hardened. Allegedly being instructed by staff not to stage-dive meant Young rarely ventured into the crowd this time, but neither that nor an uneven mix hampered their feral intensity and frenzied energy, or insult-spouting stage banter. All parties garnered their money's worth from these lads.
Combining one of the nation's busiest brutal outfits with arguably its finest extreme metal export seems like a real no-brainer, and it was thus unsurprising that punters not only showed up en masse, but few understandably departed prior to the headliners. The room temperature continued to rise (prompting growler Jason Peppiatt to reference it on more than one occasion) as Psycroptic swiftly captured the award for tightest band of the evening. The Tasmanian tech-death maestros ruthlessly executed Ob(Servant) and A Calculated Effort. Less focus on riff soup and more on actual songwriting of late has only enhanced their live potency, material from latest disc The Inherited Repression boasting grooves wider than the Grand Canyon. A relief from the relentless assault was an amusing first in the band's history: a bra being hurled on-stage. An obliterating The Colour of Sleep closed out a memorable, and perhaps most importantly encouragingly received night of homegrown heaviness.
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