Manchester has become a veritable post-metal paradise. Alongside its own burgeoning scene, we’ve got Alcest tonight, Cult of Luna passing through on Thursday and Damnation festival taking up residency in under three weeks, bringing with them Nordic Giants, Maybeshewill, and the emotionally wrought juggernaut that is Amenra (if you haven't done so, get your tickets now). However, if I'm honest I will be struggling to find 45 minutes more scintillating and mind-blowing than the ones I get to spend with tonight's opening act, The Devils Trade.

It's very very rare for me to come across a band I have no hitherto knowledge of and be then utterly utterly blown away by them, but this is one of those occasions. Beyond my vague recollection of their existence and my knowledge of Dávid Makó’s time spent in Crippled Black Phoenix (which he refers to during the show), I am a veritable blank canvas when it comes to The Devil’s Trade. My initial reaction is wow, followed by a double wow wow, and then topped off by a triple wow wow wow. They are absolutely astonishing. A maelstrom of dark pensive energy that navigates the thin line between abyss and salvation with deft ability.

Their material channels the solemn melancholy of Doom but with added emotional intensity. It feels like being shuttled through a tunnel of pulsating noise. There are points where the whole thing becomes over-facing and the intense stimulation shifts towards bewildering and confusing. But then, like coming up to air from the deep ocean, there are other instances where you feel like you are being drenched with pure light and the sensation feels cathartic and redemptive.

A key constant within their music is the utter variable beauty of Dávid’s voice. He resists the trait of going down the gruff growled route and instead, he uses his beautiful larynx to soar and to sooth. His vocal abilities are just utterly astonishing and give the penetrating darkness of their music dashes of blinding light. On ‘12 to Die 6 to Rise’ he sounds uncannily like Eddie Vedder, channelling his saw paper soul style. Dripping with palatable emotion, he sounds simultaneously passionate but also world-weary.

For the whole duration of their set, I am just absolutely gobsmacked. I feel blindsided and punch-drunk by the level of cavorting intensity that I am witness to. The single note that I manage to scribe simply states, “Post-funeral doom” and that is probably the best similia that I can muster. It shares a slow, plodding, reverberating pace with bands such as My Dying Bride and Moonspell, but there is so much more at play here. So much more depth, so much more texture and so so much more variance. It's hypnotic and is heart-wrenching. It's like witnessing Dávid’s soul being wrenched apart and then reformed in front of your very eyes. An almost quasi-religious experience that I never wanted to end. I think I have found my new favourite band.

If there is one band that can eloquently take up the "top that" challenge when the previous act has managed to simultaneously capture and shatter your heart, then that band is Alcest. There is something both wonderful and otherworldly about the way that they weave their sonic tapestries. I've said it before but I will say it again, they transcend beyond being mere musicians and have become audio sorcerers, bringing into being sounds that feel warm and nurturing, but also firmly outside of our conventional understanding. This evening they are participating in a raw exercise of looking backwards as opposed to their usual penchant for always being future-focused.

Performing 2010’s exquisite “Écailles de Lune” in full, they are either ludicrously late for its 10th anniversary or fashionable early for its 15th birthday. No matter how incongruous the celebration is, nobody is complaining as the first part of the opening title track rings out across the room. For seven minutes it gradually but gently builds in intensity, like tension slowly being exerted on a spring. Then in its final 120 seconds, it burst into reverberating life, howling at the moon with wild abandonment like an uncaged banshee.

One of the joys of seeing an album performed in its entirety is the ability to lose yourself in a singular art form that you know so well. “Écailles de Lune” is 41 minutes in duration but its performance in full tonight goes by in the blink of an eye. Another joy is the ability to experience the album in three-dimensional Technicolor as you witness those who originally pieced it together recreate it in front of you. Until this evening I hadn't realised that ‘Solar Song’ is The Beach Boys meets My Bloody Valentine. A twisted miss-match of peerless harmonies and off-key melodies that blends sweet refrains with sonic oscillation. It's a beautiful spiralling noise that manages to drag you in with its slightly off-kilter tuneful abandon. It just feels so edifying to see it rebuilt layer by layer in front of your very eyes.

As I said the conclusive chapter of the album, ‘Sur l'océan couleur de fer’ comes exactly where it should do chronologically but still far far too soon for my liking. As its last notes drift away into the rafters, the ovation they receive is absolutely breathtaking. It is obvious that Stéphane Paut is taken aback by the level of love and adoration that tumbles forth from the crowd. It is one of those really interesting shows, where the audience stands in utter reverence during the songs but breaks out into unruly idolisation as soon as they come to an end.

The rest of the set is a greatest hits affair, as we get one song each from the other five long-playing releases (aside from 2019's absolutely stunning “Spiritual Instinct”, from which we are treated with two exerts). As this portion of the set proceeds, it's really interesting to note that Alcest’s development and evolution is not linear. There is not a palpable and chronological move from one style to the other. Instead, their highly unique take on blackgaze seems to ebb and flow in a cascading circulate movement with material from the debut release, “Souvenirs d'un autre monde” having sonically more in common with their last two records than it does with the albums that directly succeeded it.

Beyond it being scheduled on the set list, an encore feels inevitable because of the sheer level of veneration given to the band by those in the room. ‘Autre temps’ is subtle and restrained in its delivery. It seems to glide off the stage with both grace and a minimal air. However, it’s closer ‘Deliverance’ from “Shelter” that encapsulates the sheer majesty and magnificence of the band. It's a feast of tempestuous waves that build like skyward structures and then crash down to the earth at a shattering velocity. As it reaches its crescendo the rest of the musicians leave Stephane alone on the stage bathing in one solitary stoplight. He holds his guitar aloft in the heavenly glow, like he is presenting it as a sacrificial offering to some pagan god and then gently lays it on the ground and with a minimal farewell exits the stage. Spellbinding and ethereal, there is no need for big lingering goodbyes as they have already firmly made their mark with everybody in the room.

Check the “In The Flesh” page for more photos!
Alcest, The Devil’s Trade