Virginian Stoner/Doom quintet Windhand have been steadily building an impressive fanbase over the space of the two short years since the release of their self titled debut album. They bought along Texan Blackened-sludge oddballs Inter Arma for a night of cast-iron riffs at Islington’s O2 Academy.
Taking to the stage with very little ado, Inter Arma kick things off by pummeling the crowd into submission with two numbers that lean heavily on their Black metal influences, with frantic blastbeats and shrieked vocals aplenty. They slow things down with a truly hypnotic instrumental that has many in the audience swaying as if in a trance. They then bust out an absolutely phenomenal rendition of ‘sblood’, which sounds like the backdrop to a neolithic ritual celebrating a deity older than satan. Drummer T. J. Childers puts in the performance of the night, a cross between treebeard and Animal from the muppets who risks causing some kind of tectonic collapse with his utterly furious drum pummeling.
Frontman Mike Paparo is the center of attention for most of their set, leaning into the crowd with eyes like a fucking madman and opening his throat to the heavens. At times sounding a little like Indian, Inter Arma’s caustic brand of noise is entirely their own. ‘Sky Burial’ sounds just as crushing live, if not more so. Bonus points to bassist Joe Kerkes for wearing a Floor t-shirt. Miss these gentlemen at your peril.
Windhand offer a lower-tempo, but no less heavy set for the second half of the show. Although guitarist Garrett Morris seems to be battling some kind of sound issue throughout most of the performance, the five-piece still throw out a wall of treacle-thick doom metal with more than a few shades of Black Sabbath.
Vocalist Dorthia Cottrell is a bewitching stage presence, wandering around and nailing absolutely pitch-perfect, hazy vocals that wouldn’t have sounded out of place back in the 70’s while the rest of the band flail around behind her. When the intro riff to ‘Orchard’, the opening track from 2013’s Soma, washes over us the audience goes absolutely apeshit, and it sounds absolutely massive live. The band continue to mete out monolithic slabs of slow-cooker doom, not dissimilar to British counterparts Electric Wizard. They are a tight and focused live act, even with the aforementioned T. J. Childers light hearted attempts to sabotage Ryan Wolfe’s performance by grabbing the occasional cymbal mid strike. A quick step offstage fools no-one into thinking that’s all for the night, and they come back strong with some more top quality riffing.
While Windhand won’t get you in the pit or stir your blood to anger, they’ll certainly entrance you with their captivating, psychedelic brand of Doom. Top drawer.
