On what was said to be the coldest night of the typically sun scorched San Diego, uncharacteristically to the rarely changing climate of Southern California the creeping winds of a wandering winter brewing, and billowing into San Diego. That horrendously shiver-inducing gale, which blew in a night of black metal that must’ve culminated from the devil dark corners of the world. Sergulath, who hails from San Diego, had the privilege to unveil the night’s dark ceremonial conjuring at Brick by Brick that Septicflesh, Dark Funeral, Thy Antichrist and Hellsot were poised to perform.
Sergulath deflowered the unusually foully frigid winter night. Upon arrival the sold out shows patrons were wrapped anxiously around the west San Diego venue. Sergulath unleashed a metalium of heaviness brooding with foreboding dark atmosphere all while exhaling elements of thrash and symphonic mayhem that the band has become known to unfurl. With the accompaniment of David Correa’s melodic majesty while tickling the ivories. The singer and guitarist Daniel Correa spewed up some of the finest shredding I’ve seen in some time, and in an almost unintentional homage to “Death’s” front man Chuck Schuldiner caliber of showmanship. I felt an era of Scream Bloody Gore (Deaths first album) in Daniel’s overall stage presence and persona which was a refreshing gasp of glory most metal musicians strive for yet never are able to fully capture.
The immensely thicket of the growing crowd responded almost beautifully scripted to Daniel’s echoing calls to this permeating black mass of swelling monolithic proportions. If ever given a glimpse to see Sergulath perform one would be foolish not to witness such an almost overwhelming spectacle of calming yet head banging inciting cacophony. That night they featured new merch, which was designed by their own keyboardist David Correa who just so happens to be a phenomenal artist. I highly suggest checking out his artistry in all his varying forms.
Helsott was to take the stage next. Sadly their set was decapitated just twelve minutes in for unexplained reasons that disappointed the swelling void-less gathering. With the promise of the likes of Thy Antichrist, Dark Funeral, and Septicflesh still to emerge satiated the ravenous rambunctious crowd chanting for the continuation of the show.
Thy Antichrist had to revive the uneasiness that arose in the air after Helsott’s set was severed prematurely. Luckily the corpse painted Colombian’s did not disappoint. Their atmospheric arms of darkly forbidden music festered in each an every showgoer. With their elements of such theatrical tastes executed in an audibly dark manner elaborated their overall message of existenalism, and neosatanism, which their music is so heavily steeped in. I had the delightful privilege of conversing with guitarist Scott Eames known as Thy Antishrist’s “”The Wicked One.” He told me of the commencement of this tour, and how this was their second sold out show the first being in Los Angels. But, upon their first show being successful something quite unfortunate had taken place something that so solemnly is associated with L.A. one of the crime capitals of California. I urge anyone and everyone to support them by purchasing their music on the commonly used platforms such as iTunes, Soundcloud, and etc. or by attending their shows when they come to your neck of the woods and purchase their merch. From our continued conversing I learned the peculiar origins of their metal artillery. The Wicked One was draped in a sleeveless jacket, which was so heavily conceived in every awesome minute detail to the crocodile teeth stuck in the sewn in netting hemmed expertly into the coat. Apparently all the bands attire comes from some seamstress who creates these pieces of art from the cold corner of Norway; the birthing place of the very genre that Thy Antichrist has perfected, Black Metal. Be sure to pick up their 2018 full-length release entitled “Wrath of the Beast” from Napalm Records.
Dark Funeral was the next band to take the stage playing the foreboding tracks from “Where Shadows Forever Reign” their last release in 2016. Their performance was nothing less than what I expected from the father patrons of all things evil, all things dark, all things of death. These masters of the macabre conjured songs of sacrificial sounds so sacred to beckon malignant malevolence, and their lightless ceremonial rites created such a deeply demented tar-thick atmosphere which only can be harvested by men of immensely aged inventiveness. Some how they were able to make their performance feel authentically original although they were playing music from a genre that is often doomed to sound so maddeningly monotonous. Perhaps it was their presence that they commanded on stage, or maybe it was the solid structure from which their music is based upon, whatever it was they managed to unveil a seemingly dark serendipitous show one would have not expected from such a well-aged band of blasphemous hell-spawned heathens.
Septicflesh concluded the nocturnal mayhem by performing tracks from their immensely sprawling catalogue that features over ten full-length albums. The most recent recordings were from their 2017 Season of Mist Record release album entitled; “Codex Omega.” The troupes of tormented Greek metal-heads hyped up the surprisingly still ravenous horde of concert attendees. The pit hit its apex of clamoring calamity during this final set, and as that cyclone of colidescopic catastrophe endlessly swarmed in torrential circles as the heat permeated at pinnacles peak of that chasm creation, that hell-hive conjured forth from the maniacal clansmen shredding on stage.
As if each band was a single solemnly seething point on the five separate crests of a pentagram, the bands meshed seamlessly in an unholy order which couldn’t have been conceived in any other way which could b as affective as the showcase of bands which completed the bill for that February 23, 2018 melodic black metal occurrence. I’m quite certain that everyone in attendance left that night with not just a new profound respect for the performers, which played that night, those musicians who play music, which is often shunned, and thought of to be one of the lesser genres in music. I can assure you that I certainly walked away from that night with a deeper festering adoration for these audibly talented tormentors. I highly recommend immediate admittance to anyone whose fortunate enough to have their local venue graced by these unholy conjuring creators of the blackest of all menacing melodic music.