A rare visit to the UK for the Italian symphonic death metal outfit ensured a healthy crowd gathered at The Fleece, one of my favourite venues on a cold Wednesday night. The Italians produced a stunning album in Veleno last year which featured highly in a number of end of year polls. It’s been four years since the band last played in Bristol but their ferocity and highly complex show compensated the die-hard fans who screamed and roared their way through every track on the 12 song set list. The bulk of the set was drawn from Veleno and King, which was unsurprising, but the back catalogue got a decent share with tracks from Labyrinth and Agony featuring as well.
Fleshgod Apocalypse (7) took to the stage bathed in swirling, atmospheric lighting; the stage set impressive, with the three carved microphone stands prominent at the front of the stage. The band is of course, a tight nucleus of lead vocalist Francesco Paoli, bassist Paolo Rossi and piano player Francesco Ferrini. Between them, these three contribute all the writing and recording of their music but are aided by the sweeping soprano of Veronica Boradcchini whose operatic tones have been a key feature of the band since 2011; new live members (since their previous Bristol appearance) Fabio Bartoletti on lead guitar and drummer David Folchitto have been with the band for a couple of years and fitted solidly into the line-up.
Opening with The Violation and Healing Through War, a relatively staple in the running order in recent years, the band clad in their traditional death metal opera suits, it was apparent that the mix from our position towards the back of the venue was not right, and whilst Paoli’s vocals roared through the cacophony Bartoletti’s lead work struggled to cut through. A low end of Folchitto’s battery combined with Rossi’s deep bass blunted the dynamic symphonic approach that make this band so unique. Meanwhile Boradcchini’s high pitch sliced the air, her platform at the back a mere holding pen to rest between her regular forays to the front of the cramped stage.
Whilst the sound slowing improved, it was noticeable that there were clearly two camps in the audience. Those that were totally into it, mouthing every word, screaming along to new tracks Sugar and Monnalisa, the head banging matching that of the Italians on stage and huge appreciation when Fleshgod launched into Minotaur from Labyrinth, a firm favourite. However, the other camp consisted of those there for the craic, and the curious whose interest was more of a cursory toe dip into the water rather than full immersion. At times there were more people outside the venue than in it.
The intensity of a Fleshgod show requires full concentration, the vibrant interplay between operatic and full-on death metal challenging and at times almost indecipherable. By the time penultimate song Gravity had clawed its icy fingers around the crowd, all energy had been sapped. This is a band who need a venue to match their huge production values, and on the night, The Fleece creaked and groaned, but was slightly overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude. What wouldn’t you give to see them in St David’s Hall with those magnificent acoustics?
Earlier in the evening semi-locals Bloodshot Dawn (8) had done a sterling warm-up job. With workaholic Josh McMorran not only leading from the front with his band but also pulling full merchandise selling duties pre and post set, the band roared through a set crammed with songs that are only too familiar to their slowly growing legion of fans. For a band who we’ve seen flower from the cramped surroundings of the much missed Bogiez to Japanese tours and two brutal Bloodstock sets in recent years, the intensity still remains. These are guys fuelled by their passion for music. The crowd whilst static until Visions exploded into life at the end of the set were vociferous in their approval of the technical death metal on display.
With stand in drummer Ben (one of the smallest drummer’s I’ve ever seen) a powerhouse behind the kit (covering for the absent James Stewart), Bloodshot dawn possess possibly the second finest front three in the UK, although how technically good at the seven strings Messrs Saleh, Frimino and Mane are remains to be seen. Bassist Giamcomo Gastaldi’s frantic wind milling distracted those watching from the continued evolution of his mighty moustache, his five string thunder resonating deep. Bloodshot’s sound wasn’t the best, but Morgan Reid’s lead shredding was majestic, allowing McMorran to concentrate on his guttural snarls and hefty rhythm. A band who never tire of playing, we never tire of watching them.
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