We would like to see Most of the human race killed off Because it is unworthy It is unworthy of the gift of life
"Antichristian Phenomenon"
I knew it! I knew this day would come! It was going to happen! The end of March was a memorable occasion for all of Kyiv's underground: the arrival of the world-renowned Polish blasphemers BEHEMOTH — a band that in the fullest sense of the word had become cult already in the 1990s. This time BEHEMOTH visited Kyiv as part of the Barbarossa II tour (what a name, so dear to every Eastern European heart) and brought their new album — Demigod. But let's take it from the beginning.
The following acts were announced for the concert:
SPIRITUAL VOID, melodic death, Odessa, Ukraine HYPERION, death metal, Zaporizhzhia, Ukraine MENTAL DEMISE, brutal death, Kyiv-Lysychansk, Ukraine NEOLITH, death/black, Poland BEHEMOTH, death/black, Poland
A very serious lineup — yet those who thought the crowd would tire from such a wave of death metal were mistaken. I entered the venue around 17:30 (the concert was supposed to start at 18:00); a soundcheck was underway, and neither hide nor hair of the Poles was visible (as it emerged, there were some customs issues — nothing serious, just a full inspection required). The soundcheck proceeded rather unhurriedly and... very loudly. So loudly that I had to move away from the front row, as my ears were already starting to ring. Evidently the equipment had been cranked to maximum, because I had never heard such sound at the Sputnik before. In short — during the soundcheck I had time to wander the hall, greet everyone I knew, eat sandwiches, and drink tea.
And then the doors finally opened, letting in the first visitors (after a nearly hour-long delay!), while on stage at that moment SPIRITUAL VOID appeared, promising everyone "North Black Sea melodic death." I heard death — but where was the melodic? I understand, of course, that lacking their own sound engineer didn't help their sound quality — but still... periodically the sound hit the ears unpleasantly; at least the volume was turned down somewhat. That said, there have been far worse debuts (and for these guys it was indeed a debut). In my view, all their melodic quality consisted of one IN FLAMES cover — "Jester Race," if I'm not mistaken. During that song people more willingly moved toward the stage, although at the entrance complete chaos was unfolding: the crowd was pressing on the security, the security was pushing the crowd back — everyone entertaining themselves.
After them came the death metallers from Zaporizhzhia — HYPERION. Having set up, they showed everyone present what "meat" means. A decent crowd had already gathered near the stage; a pit began — a civilised pit, where if anyone fell they were immediately shielded and helped back up. The band's sound was of course better than the preceding act's, though the speakers "fizzed" and "squealed" in places, slightly marring the picture — but overall the set rated a solid four. Special respect to Max the drummer: delivering true mincing-machine-meets-skull-crusher work. What didn't impress — as many have already noted — was the absence of a second guitarist. Guys, it's genuinely missing; one isn't enough! And your own sound engineer really is better than someone else's. Their SLAYER cover — "Bloodline" — went down emphatically.
MENTAL DEMISE. What can be said about this band? Most of the audience knew them, as they are frequent guests at various metal events. They performed at a high level, with excellent hair-whipping display (anyone who has seen even one of their shows will understand what I mean). A wave of intense brutality rolled from the stage into the crowd, but the pit warriors knew no fatigue. Unfortunately I wasn't able to fully appreciate the band's set, as the organisers caught me in the foyer and told me there was urgent need to help unload equipment from the just-arrived van with the Poles. The unloading ended up taking virtually the entire MENTAL DEMISE set and about half of the NEOLITH set. At least it gave me the chance to exchange a few words with them in Anglo-Polish-Ukrainian. (One interesting detail: one of the heaviest cases was the case with BEHEMOTH's costumes.)
When I entered the hall, the Polish NEOLITH — who had been touring with BEHEMOTH — were already on stage. First impression: ...loud. Very loud! The Poles performed powerfully — but someone had apparently decided that louder was better. A serious mistake, which significantly spoiled the entire set. Whoever was at the mixing desk might want to recall the well-known Polish proverb: "too much of anything is unhealthy." Simply put, if the sound had been even a third quieter, it would have been an excellent set.
NEOLITH's set concluded; the MC — some fellow called Zen — appeared on stage, and everyone began waiting for the headliners — but the case-unloading hadn't been for nothing. BEHEMOTH had decided to perform entirely on their own equipment. Full credit and honour to them for this, but assembling it took nearly half an hour! The MC tried to entertain the crowd, but nothing he did worked. For one thing, people wanted to see their heroes — and for another, he was, to put it politely, very far from everyone's beloved MC Crocodile. What the crowd was chanting at him I won't reproduce here (the editor won't pass the profanity anyway — [fair point! — ed.]), but they recalled everything: his persistent advertising of his own portal, his alleged goth affiliations... Eventually, after some time, he left the stage (thank the gods!), and an announcement was made that the show would not continue for at least another twenty minutes. For thirty minutes the crowd entertained themselves as best they could while METALLICA played through the speakers. Meanwhile the Poles had dinner in the bar (from which everyone else had been cleared) and were unhurriedly, with jokes and banter, applying their makeup.
And then they were on stage, met by a thunderous roar from a crowd the likes of which the Sputnik had never seen assembled in such numbers (according to the organisers, 1,050 people were present). The Sputnik had never seen anything like it. Hundreds of hands in the air. The space in front of the stage packed to capacity — falling was practically impossible. The hall packed to the very back. After the traditional greetings the show began. Let me pause and mention that before the performance I had been arguing with a friend about whether they would play "Antichristian Phenomenon" (one of my all-time favourites), and if so, when. And suddenly the performance began with the very words I placed as the epigraph! "Antichristian Phenomenon"!!! What happened in the crowd at that moment defies description — absolutely everyone erupted. In the air: kilograms of whipping hair, hundreds of hands and throats alternately screaming the song's lyrics or chanting the band's name. A genuine frenzy. A pit broke out behind the main crowd. The Poles launched one battle track after another into the crowd, partly from the latest album Demigod (a quality album, it must be said). And then... Nergal announced from the stage that this was the last song (only the sixth by count!) and that he could not continue the performance because the police had arrived. What? How? While "Chant for Eschaton 2000" played on stage I made my way a little further into the hall. And with that the concert ended!!! Now here is the explanation. As it turned out, some scum — [permitted — the Ukrainian language has not yet coined a word vile enough for such scum — ed.] — had phoned the police and reported a bomb at the Sputnik. You piece of filth. If I ever got my hands on you I would hang you by your privates and see which tears first: those or your vocal cords.
In short, our valiant law enforcement arrived and declared that everyone needed to be immediately evacuated. Meaning the concert had to be stopped — and this was still before BEHEMOTH's set. Meaning they might not have performed at all. Now use your imagination to think what you personally would do if that individual fell into your hands. What saved the concert was the presence of a thousand people in the hall, because if they'd tried to clear everyone out, I think it would have ended considerably more badly — the Sputnik would have exploded without any bomb.
And that was the end of it. People called for the Poles to return for an encore, but naturally there was no continuation. Posters with the tour schedule were thrown into the crowd, and people began dispersing. I sat for a while longer in the dressing room, got an autograph, and headed home — fortunately catching the last minibus. And on the way home, the only things that could substitute for the truncated BEHEMOTH performance were the autograph received and the fact that they had performed at all — and the situation from the previous year with CANNIBAL CORPSE had not repeated itself (everyone once again mentally cursed Lukashenko and the Belarusian customs officers).