The evening of Ne Obliviscaris began as an eve of Near Obliviousness, as my cohort and I would have accidentally attended the GWAR show next door at Vibes, save for the fact that the doorperson could not locate our names on the list. We weren’t sure if their Houston date had been moved, or if we had memorized the local dockets with a bit of dyslexia, but we could not be bothered by such things with what lay in store for us.
After making the walk of shame back through the line and around the corner, we finally made it to Vibes’ sister venue, The Rock Box, in time to hear the blood curdling vocals of Jason Peppiatt piercing through the locked iron gate behind the security checkpoint, while the brutally heavy riffs of Joe Haley nearly broke the brick walls down with the seismic violence of the Tasmanian Devils themselves, Psycroptic. The band’s charismatic, comedic, and damnright cheerful stage presence during their last song, “Enslavement,” demanded the engagement and participation of all who showed up early enough to be sonically bludgeoned by their music.
Next up was the direct support act, Rivers of Nihil, who unapologetically dove right into the raging currents of the melodic but aggressive intro song, “The Sub-Orbital Blues,” as they took the stage. Before playing the next song, bass guitarist and lead vocalist Adam Biggs haughtily heralded that they were about to play their entire self-titled album that night in order, an announcement that fans met with more than just a skosh of excitement.
Like a bald and bearded baby cherub, rhythm guitarist/ backup vocalist Andy Thomas brought positively angelic clean vocals that were even more impressive than his massive, flowing mane of facial fur, while Biggs belted out bellowing growls from beneath his fu-manchu mustache that all but wrenched the guts of the concertgoers in attendance. The subtle hint of dissonance in the guitars added an air of darkness to their almost heavenly sound.
Meanwhile, the keyboard backing tracks and live saxophone courtesy of Patrick Corona added an other-worldly esoteric aura around the heavy-hitting hellfire of their flawless performance. Rivers brought an end to their onslaught with their beautifully eerie namesake song. The only thing that could have made it a more intense experience would have been the addition of more than just the already available house lighting. Nevertheless, the musicianship was simply immaculate and left us all thinking, “Is it really possible for a band to be this good?”
Before the long-awaited headliners took the stage, we held a hearty conversation with a young man named Mateos, who had flown in all the way from Milano, Italy, just to see Ne Obliviscaris live in San Antonio and follow them across Texas. Alas, that camaraderie was abruptly halted as the crowd began to cheer for violin-chinned clean vocalist and self-proclaimed “Aussie cunt” Tim Charles as he strutted onto the stage in his pointy black Sebastian Bach boots and received a welcome worthy of an arena-rock band in front of a sold-out stadium as “Wyrmholes” slithered from his bow.
The audience stood in reverent silence as each member emerged from backstage to join their brothers in metal. Ne Obliviscaris then transitioned directly into the entirety of “Painters of the Tempest,” which lasted from 8:43 PM to 9:10 PM. Nearly thirty solid minutes gracefully passed without any hint of monotony, nor any feeling of being forced, overdone, or pretentiously pushed for length. “Pyrrhic” broke the melancholy with electrifying intensity, with new growler James Dorton proving beyond a reasonable doubt that he’s the right man for this job.
In celebration of the 11th birthday of their monumental Citadel, the band continued to play the entire album, followed by a complete performance of the album Exul, as well, sadly skipping right over Portal of I and Urn. It was to be a night filled with impeccable vocal harmonies so powerful that they pushed the limits of the PA system, along with heavy metal melodies and textures dense enough to swallow light. The music Ne Obliviscaris creates is too well constructed to have been merely written. This shit was composed.
The fact that Ne Obliviscaris recently lost their lead/harsh vocalist and primary composer, Marc “Xenoyr” Campbell, made little difference, as Dorton almost too effortlessly brought all the same ferocity and malevolence with his vocal prowess and stage presence. All the while, Tim interacted with the crowd like the band’s personal hype man, and in Xen’s absence, seemed to have assumed the role of band leader. Returned drummer Dan Presland laid an aggressive and technical foundation along with Martino Garattoni’s unmatched skills on his headless five-string bass.
Longtime guitarists Benjamin Baret and Matt Klavins, fully clad in black like pallbearers bringing with them a brutal dirge of ambivalence, played their instruments like wizards wielding weapons in ways that each managed to shine their magic without upstaging or overshadowing each other or their bandmates. With hair windmilling in strobe lights, the band brought an emotional resonance to their performance, the likes of renaissance minstrels amusing a medieval king, as Dorton, despite having been introduced as the “hulking American Viking,” took the humble approach and exited stage-left each time the embellishments of his bandmates needed him not, only to return with a fierce and fiery zeal each time his throat was called for. He was clearly more settled in and comfortable this go-round and no longer carried with him an air of need to prove himself.
There were a few piped-in stringed instrument accompaniments from the soundboard, and Tim did miss a cue during “Equus,” but managed to pull it off without subtracting from the overall ambiance of a song that invokes chills every time. He also tried out a new delay effect during the interlude to “Misericorde I – As the Flesh Falls,” which was questionably received but didn’t break the mood. Overall, the night as a whole felt familial and positive. At one point, a man in the mosh pit even held up a found wallet, amidst the chaos of “Suspyre,” and kept it in the air until it was claimed by its grateful owner. The concert finished off with an encore of “And Plague Flowers the Kaleidoscope,” some Trve Avstralian Tango Metal from the album Portal of I.
The entire set spanned well over two hours, yet the entire time, the fans never tired, but rather gained energy and momentum as the night grew old. Even a pair of elderly gentlemen in the back managed to make it through without ever fading in vigor or excitement. All in all, the only negative thing to be said about the entire evening was that Ne Obliviscaris was so incredibly brilliant, they deserved a far better turnout than the meager numbers that managed to attend. They will surely return to their own continent, having left a beautiful scar on the face of North America. But man, what we wouldn’t give to hear “Eyrie” live.
Words by Brennan Richie | Photos by Gonzalo E Pozo
