The four-piece from Brooklyn slink on stage to begin tuning their instruments in a zen-like meditation, the buzzing, hundred-strong crowd hushes at their presence, as they know what is about to unfold. Front man Hunter Hunt-Hendrix sound-checks a final moan from his pulpit – we are in the wake of Liturgy, the figureheads of ‘transcendental’ black metal, and their sermon.

Liturgy descend on The Key Club under no false guise or illusions; basic lighting and a static stage presence succeed in avoiding distraction from the music. Cataclysmic, roaring guitars and oppressive burst beats are unrelenting in the band’s witching hour – but their stillness, bar the animated drummer Greg Fox, confirms a dominion over their art. Throughout the evening, the reception towards the band is often little more than the bobbing of heads and soft applause. A sign of disapproval? No – rather a collective respect towards the reverence of Liturgy’s performance.

Material taken from the band’s latest LP The Ark Work seems somewhat hollow when experienced in the flesh; the void left from the absence of MIDI instrumentation, where glorious fanfares and chiming bells gave the album a strange uniqueness, is quite disappointing. However, the screaming and harsh vocals in songs taken from Liturgy’s previous albums, Renihilation and Aesthethica, are subdued with an almost lethargic, spellbinding chanting. Hunter Hunt-Hendrix breathes a new life into the genre, preaching with monotonous vocals, which lean more towards rap than black metal, in songs like ‘Kel Valhaal’ and ‘Quetzalcoatl’ – mesmerising the audience with an air of sanctity rather than ferocity.

The penultimate song ‘Generation’ finally brings a bouncy and, dare I say, fun element to the evening that even leaves the reserved front man smiling to himself. The eruption of applause is even enough to coax Hunter Hunt-Hendrix out of his shell with a meek, soft-spoken “thanks for being here”. As the calamity draws to tranquillity, a final, modest “thank you” signals the band’s swift exit as fast as they communed – but Liturgy’s sanctimonious composure and apocalyptic fresh take on black metal resonates long after their performance is over… or maybe that’s just the tinnitus.

Jekabs Jursins

photo: Kevin Shea Adams