Few bands could have followed Marduk’s devastating set without being swallowed whole. Mayhem not only rose to the challenge, they shifted the terrain entirely: from the moment the Norwegian quintet took the stage, it was clear this would not be a simple escalation of extremity, but something more immersive and unsettling. The production was overtly demonic, yet also surprisingly high tech, all sharp lights, ritualistic staging and carefully controlled chaos.
Crucially, Mayhem do not survive on legacy alone: their recent material, including songs from Liturgy of Death, rather than a nostalgia driven trawl, sounded vital and dangerous. Absolute darkness, pure dread and striking representations of death and evil filled the room, but there was also something else at play, a sense of deliberate weirdness that sets Mayhem apart from most of their peers. This is black metal that embraces the uncanny as much as the violent.
Frontman Attila Csihar remains one of the most singular figures in extreme music. Drawing from an arsenal of voices, shrieks, cavernous baritones, martial barks and demonic growls, he treated each song like a twisted piece of theater, using costumes, props, grimaces and pantomimes to bring the material fully to life. Beside him, Necrobutcher cut a grotesque silhouette, increasingly resembling Freaks' Schlitzie, his bass rumbling like a malfunctioning engine, while Hellhammer proved once again why he is considered one of the genre’s most formidable drummers. His relentless blast beats and rolling patterns conjured images of horses charging through a frozen forest at night, an unstoppable, merciless doomed cavalcade.
The guitar work of Ghul and Teloch was far more intricate than the usual buzzsaw tremolo associated with black metal: beneath the noise lay carefully structured riffs, dissonant harmonies and passages that edged toward the experimental. For all their reputation, Mayhem are a surprisingly sophisticated band.
That sophistication came to a halt toward the end of the set, when they reached back to the band’s earliest incarnation. The frantic, chaotic songs from Deathcrush exploded with primitive aggression, drawing as much from crust punk as from Venom or Bathory, a violent end to the ritual, unleashing pure fucking armageddon.
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