The stateside ground zero for Death metal used to be the tropical climes of Florida, however over the intervening years it has shifted westward and now the epicentre resides in the Lone Star state of Texas. Creeping Death and Frozen Soul are both examples of just how exciting modern American death metal has become. They have respectively evolved this art form by taking it back to its core routes. They have turned their back on the pick-and-mix shunt job that death metal had become and sought solace in their Bolt Thrower and Carcass imports. This is death metal shawn of its pretensions and re-engaged with its brutal ferocity.

It is edifying that these torchbearers from modern minimal death metal have pulled not only an impressively healthy crowd but one that is not looking down the barrel of pension age. Yes, there is the odd smattering of those of us who remember fondly death metal's emergence in the mid-80s but in the main tonight crowd are young, vibrant, and intent on making this most versatile of subgenres their own.

Standing in for a sadly absent Phobophlic, Disengagement are determined not to be merely making up numbers. Hailing from around these parts they are greeted with a level of enthusiasm not usually afforded to the first band of a four-act ticket. Fitting with the theme of the evening their take on death metal is distinctly old school. Roger Bradley and Tom Howard grind out riffs at an alarming rate, whilst Tom Curry with his hood drawn up looks like Kenny from South Park brought to life.

I've seen many fledgling acts misunderstand the minimal aspect of death metal, but it is in safe hands with Disengagement. They realise that it's all about clinical precision as opposed to messy noise. The guitars are driving but they are given plenty of space to breathe. A highly impressive outing that no doubt wins them over plenty of new admirers.

Foreseen hail from Helsinki and ply the most vibrant and vitriolic brand of crossover thrash that I have heard in a good long time. They absolutely burn off the stage in a hailstorm of cathartic and chaotic kinetic energy. They seem to have rather a cult following as sprinkled around the room are a good 20 to 30 people in absolute convulsions of ecstasy about witnessing their heroes. This includes the entire membership of Disengagement who not only herald the appearance of the band on stage but also play a pivotal role in marshalling the gyrating pit.

Crossover has always been the juncture where thrash and punk coexist. Foreseen are an explosion of glorious anarchistic intent. Metal’s searing riffs grafted onto punk's belligerent attitude.  With his shaved head and steely gaze, Mirko Nummelin has an air of Buster Bloodvessel after the gastric band surgery. He is a force of nature that absolutely owns the stage for the 30 minutes that it is his. He berates the security for trying to stop Mancunian gigging regular red cap boy from flinging himself off the performance area “Security, moshing is good yah, stage diving is good yah”. 

He has such a presence that he manages to hype the rapidly expanding crowd into a level of pure furore. In fact, they're having such a good time that they don't quite know what to do with Mirko's raw confessional that his father was an addict meaning that he had a lousy childhood. The brave testimonial elicits a rather uncomfortable tumbleweed moment as essentially all the crowd wants to do is damage each other to the sound of Foreseen’s rampant racket. A remarkably exciting band that manages to sound fresh and enticing with a sound that we have all heard before.

And on to the Texan twins. The energy in the crowd has reached headliner levels by the time Creeping Death wander on. This is a crushingly brutal version of death metal. The technicality that is displayed by other acts has been firmly left in the dressing room, this is raw primal death metal, dripping with venomous hatred. It is fast and unrelenting, and each track arrives in a blur of frenzied riffage. By now the security has given up trying to police the pit and the bodies rain down like some monsoon of stage divers.

Guitarist Trey Pemberton is utterly formidable, he round-kicks his way through the set like a UFC contender. It is hypnotic watching his convulsing moves as he scissor kicks whilst laying down the most sickest of heavy-duty driving riffs. Resse Alavi intones that they have been in this room before and he almost believes the bevy of voices that claim to have been there. This is death metal at its dirty and deranged best. It completely ignores the decades of evolution and plants it firmly back in its primitive grindcore-aligned days. Simple, corrosive but astonishingly good.

Frozen Soul’s star is not just ascending, it is rapidly reaching warp velocity. They were last in this city as the opening act for a Dying Foetus topped quadruple bill and here they are less than 12 months later almost selling out rebellion on a Wednesday night. The response they receive from the baying masses is frankly astonishing. There is a constant stream of stage divers with many of the protagonists (including the aforementioned red cap boy and Manchester's patron saint of pittage Tom Lower) making multiple trips onto the stage only to instantaneously hurl themselves off it. The pit itself is an astonishing sight that rotates with fluidity and fury.

Frozen Soul beautifully balances vulnerability and brutality. Of all the variants of death metal showcased this evening, theirs is the starkest and most stripped back. It gets its power from the simplicity. It's not big and showy, instead it is driven, decisive, and utterly destructive. In Michael Munday's absence tonight they are operating as a four-piece, which means things feel even more intensely filtered. Chris Bonner’s riffs are cold, considered and beautifully orchestrated. Death metal is about energy and conviction, and this comes out in spades.

Chad Green may have a voice of the rancid sandpaper, but he comes over as a thoroughly affable and caring chap. He chats in between songs about community and talks with obvious emotion about the need to reach out to people. You can hear the pain in his voice when he talks about the losses both the scene and more poignantly him personally has endured. You realise this isn't community as a gimmick or marketing ploy, he really does care about people.

There is a refreshing honesty about Frozen Soul's approach that dispenses with both the macho bullshit but also all the fancy bells and whistles. The nearest they get to any form of gimmick is the snow machine that Chad regularly points to the crowd. But aside from that this is all about the music, it's all about the clarity of the conviction. Yes, it's all stripped back to a base level but it doesn't stop it from being utterly awesome.

Time flies by, and it feels like they have only been on stage for moments when Chad announces that ‘Crypt of Ice’ is the last track. The stage divers go into overdrive, the more amateur purveyors carefully lower themselves back into the audience whilst the expert protagonists launch themselves from the stage with little regard for where they may land. Chad goads the crowd to create an almighty circle pit and laughs with glee as at least a hundred people career around in a circle.

As the planned final number comes through this window you can visibly see Chad's mouth to the other members “one more song”. He states that he can't be bothered shifting his fat arse downstairs to come on again (his words not mine) and then promises us a cover to provide the cherry on the top of what is being the most succulent evening. He asks the audience who the heaviest band of all time. The answer in the main seems to be Slayer, but he happily puts those before him right by pointing to the Mortician logo tattooed on his lower back.

‘Witches Coven’ is a fitting end to the evening, played at breakneck speed it is splendent in its monumental heaviness. It also showcases what is so wonderful about Frozen Soul. Their sound is massively stripped back but it still has raw unfettered emotion flowing through it. It is beautifully evocative and performed with such persuasive passion. Frozen Soul are providing death metal like mother used to make it but now sprinkled with gen z heightened emotional intelligence. Just wonderful.

Check the “In The Flesh” page for more photos!
Frozen Soul, Creeping Death, Foreseen, Disengagement