The last time I was in this iconic venue it was the mid-nineties.  It was called Paradise Factory and I had jettisoned metal in favour of a brief but passionate fling with hardcore rave. The main reason we are here tonight is that Rebellion is still out of action (thank you national rail) and the metal community has taken an “any port in a storm” attitude to what is now ground zero for Manchester’s commercial dance scene. This is an intriguing quadruple bill of four acts flirting with black metal but taking it off in all sorts of immersing and alien directions. Its promoted by the manc metal juggernaut that is Badgerfest, which means we can forgive the indomitable Badger for placing his very own projects in two of the four available berths.

Opening act Gospelheim are the first of his two bands and they present a very psychobilly-goth take on black metal. In fact, the black metal traits are very subtle and slight and you have to actually strain to hear them. What we have is a dark, swirling and atmospheric cauldron of sound, full of haunting textures and cinematic flourishes. It perfectly soundtracks the vintage hammer horror footage that plays on loop on the large screen behind the band. The vocals are shared between Ricardo (also of Badger’s other band Agvirre, but more them later) and the hypnotic Coco who stands stage right (from my perspective) resplendent in her crown of thorns. Like a forest siprit, her stage presence is wistful, evocative, and just a little chilling.

The whole performance has a feeling of creeping menace about it, like they are harbingers of a future apocalypse (and at the present moment you can take your pick of which one). This is occult rock with the emphasis on the occult. Creepy, unsettling and really rather brilliant. The biggest revaluation (apart from the fact that the band aren’t off to sacrifice a couple of hapless virgins as part of their post-show wind-down) is that this is their first gig together and we are witnessing their initial crawl out of the primordial swamp. For a first-ever performance, that was really rather special and, more importantly shows great portent of what is to come.

Underdark have obviously gouged on anything that Deafheaven can throw out. However, rather than take the easy road and directly copy their approach, they have used blackgaze (the bastard child of black metal and eighties indie fad shoegaze) as a launch pad for their endeavours, as opposed to a final destination. Theirs is a taut, claustrophobic cacophony of noise given extra resonation by Abi Vasquez’s anguished screams. However, they use the introspective calling card of post metal to create gentle interludes, that both sooth and discombobulate. Its like finding shelter from a corrosive storm but not know how long that sanctuary will last.

Their perpetual shifting approach has obviously struck a chord, as they attract a bunch of fevered fanboys intent on letting the alternating waves of distortion and placidness wash over them. Abi Vasquez is at the heart of all this, striking an androgynous and commending figure. Their stage presence and delivery is a perfect mix of fragility and dominatrix. Overall, there is something really rather unique about the way they effortlessly balance black metal’s nihilism and fatalism, with post rock’s brooding self-reflection. In equal measure intriguing, evocative and really rather good.

Agvirre is Badger’s (and Ricardo’s other band). However, they both play second fiddle to the troubled possessed soul that is Frenchie. His keyboard are set up in a manner that he faces away from the audience, already creating an unsettling and disarming dynamic. The synth’s flourishes are lush and melodic and provide a juxtaposition to the grinding black metal that they accompany. In many places it feels like Moby in his heyday (before he became a creepy old man) playing over a Mayhem record. Frenchie is a ball of tormented unbridled anger. On several occasions, he unceremoniously leaves his station, marches off the raised stage and into the audience. Once within the crowd he proceeds to scream into their faces, channelling his inner anger and despair. It is both startling and utterly compelling. 

The dis-configuring set up and Frenchie’s penchant for breaking the fourth wall and venturing into the audience, means that you find it difficult to keep your eyes off the stage. On the paper the idea of a vocalist with their back to their public sounds rude and unengaging. In reality, it is stirring, powerful and utterly absorbing. This almost anti-stage presence adds a real nuance to Agvirre’s emotive and ethereal noise. For all its posturing of being counterculture and a disrupting force, black metal can actually be incredibly conservative and risk adverse. Agvirre manage to be reverential to their musical roots, but also create their own rules and context in regard to how black metal should be played and presented. Singular, strident and utterly utterly wonderful.

Of all four bands, headliner Dawn Ray’d turn out to be the most traditional black metal outfit. There is a real old skool vibe (think Darkthrone or early Taake) to Fabian D’s frantic howling guitar and Simon B’s emotive howls of anguish. However, they have their own left of centre sensibilities and that comes to the fore when the latter picks of his fiddle and smothers its mournful refrains over the whole thing. It adds an earthiness and organic feel to the pounding black metal. What is most interesting, is that it does not dilute the power or primal fury of the swirling cacophony, it instead gives it both grounding and texture.

We get shorter, sharper and more direct tracks than with the previous acts and you can make out the influence of anarchistic punk collectives such us Crass. Whereas the previous bands were using the music as sort of transcendental meditation, an aid to allow their collective minds to wander, Dawn Ray’d are using it as an offensive weapon in a bitter class war. Simon B’s impassioned speech at the end of set, decrying the actions of the elite and highlighting our pivotal role in rising up against them, leaves us in no doubt where their allegiances lie. For them Black Metal is a rallying cry and an instrument of insurgence. They are a corrosive and uncompromising live act. By wearing their political beliefs on their sleeves, they add a real sense of purpose and passion to their music. For them, Black Metal is no longer about demonic figures, it is about saving the world and freeing the downtrodden.

That sense of taking the template of black metal and then morphing it into their own world view is a trait that is shared by all four bands. The overall take home from the evening is that there is a buoyant underground in this country, determined to challenge the conformities of this genre and to use its bones to build wonderous new worlds.