There’s a way to make an entrance, and then there’s this: The Nocturnal Affair have clearly come from the city of sin to give the second city a heart attack.
The drum sound that lets freedom ring like a shotgun blast to usher in their set is quite something—and it can’t be just MV it took years off.
And yet, the huge feel is replicated in their vibe. What The Nocturnal Affair do is almost perfect US modern metal.
The massive drums carry through “Unwound”, and when Brandon Shane—their imposing singer—suggests things could get heavier on “Benefit of Doubt”, he means it. There’s a monster groove.
Middle fingers are in the air for a vicious “Backbiter”, and their big hit “Cross Me Out” is much more to MV’s taste than the pop cover of “What Is Love”.
If the appeal of those metal covers of pop songs remains a mystery to me, then it makes perfect sense that The Nocturnal Affair are touring mainland Europe with Drowning Pool. 21st-century American heavy rock is meant to sound like this.
There’s an air of Ghostbusters about Fearless Vampire Killers. In their matching uniforms, they are visually striking—and if you’re going to call for theatrical metal, you could do a lot worse.
The slash and grab of “Braindead” is superb, as is “Say What You Want From Me (The Ghost You Left Behind)”. After which, they do a vocal tag team switch and guitarist Laurence takes over from Kier Kemp and is like a man possessed on his trio: “Always Forgive”, the statement of intent that is “Batten Down the Hatches”, and “All Hallows Evil”.
“This is dad rock,” says Laurence. Yeah, sound—if your dad is Freddy Krueger. FVK slay here.
“This week is a sad week,” says Wednesday 13 in what is a rare moment of reflection. “We lost Ozzy, and today marks four years since we lost Joey Jordison. I owe them my life, but tonight we’re gonna have fun, ‘cos that’s what they’d have wanted.”
And fun is the point when it comes to the Duke of Spook. Punky, trashy, sleazy—all of the above—but it’s just fun. That’s all. He just wants to dress up and entertain.
It helps when you have three bands’ worth of ace songs to play.
That means “Look What the Bats Dragged In” and “Too Fast for Blood”, but it also means new songs like “Rotting Away”. And if they all basically come from the same place, then if ever there was a band you want to remain the same, it’s this one.
Quite frankly, Wednesday 13—both the band and the man—are sensational. His gift for choruses is underlined by “When the Devil Commands” and others. He intersperses the show with some Murderdolls tunes, like he always does, but tonight—given the anniversary—”Summertime Suicide” and the wonderfully dumb “197666” are even more poignant, and “Die My Bride” feels genuinely anthemic.
There’s a drum solo, after which Wednesday 13 returns in a cowboy hat and dons his guitar. But he’s not wanted (dead or alive). Instead, he gives you “No Apologies” and “From Here to the Hearse”.
He’s been coming to the UK in various guises for years, and the following he’s built up is incredible. Sold out tonight and with an atmosphere to match, “Nowhere” sees a mosh pit, and the encore he allowed himself after “I Walked with a Zombie” sees crowd surfers in “Bad Things”—arguably the highlight here.
Which leaves just one more. And if you’ve seen Wednesday 13 before, you know what’s coming. And OK—if the sight of a grown man of almost 50 marching about with an umbrella with the word “fuck” written on it, just so he can sing “I Love to Say Fuck” might, in any other hands, be ludicrous—here it makes sense, and raises as many smiles as middle fingers.
In years gone by, just like Alice, KISS and Mötley, he’d have caused outrage. Now, Wednesday 13 just causes loads of people who love him to lose their minds.
As we all walk out of the venue—the fact there’s a club night means it’s 9 p.m. and still light—KISS’ version of “God Gave Rock N Roll to You” plays.
He might have—but the Devil made it even better…
