A dark wave continues to loom over the Scottish gig scene as the nights draw in towards the winter solstice, with Fields Of The Nephilim casting their shadow over Edinburgh’s O2 Academy, swathes of chiming 80s goth laced with a murky metal which enthrals their loyal following, many of whom have been behind them for almost 40 years.
Tonight they take us on a journey down a dusty old path, lined with the menace and melancholy of 1988’s The Nephilim, in a set short in length but high on drama, complete with wide brimmed hats, the odd leather trench and obligatory shades…well you don’t really think it’s dark enough in here already do you?
Their apocalyptic soundscape bears down on the audience from the outset as Endemoniada’s thunderous gallops give way to a chilling choir. Original bassist Tony Pettitt is joined by drummer Lee Newell and guitarists Gavin King and Adam Paul Leach, each silhouetted against a veil of dry ice, King’s hypnotic slide guitar the only thing truly exposed. As the opening track from The Nephilim unfurls, vocalist Carl McCoy strides on to the stage to great applause, snarling words in his raw baritone like he’s downed a saguaro cactus from the wild, wild west, where his Uber’s just dropped him off from. The Watchman follows, McCoy preaching its H P Lovecraft-inspired lyrics, and with no Western duelling taking place tonight, we make do with the lush dual-guitar interplay of King and Leach, while Phobia’s pounding riffs drive through the crowd like a manic motor head.
The band’s foray into the UK Top 40 and consequential Top Of The Pops slot (much to the horror of many pop pickers) was courtesy of the luscious Moonchild, McCoy tonight lowering us into its exquisite ethereal groove, the crowd dancing along to the late ‘80s indie-disco favourite named after a novel by occultist and author Aleister Crowley. Chord Of Soul’s opening riff recallsThe Chameleons while Celebrate’s mournful bass intoxicates, McCoy’s sombre vocal on this number something I’d have loved to have heard the late, great Mark Lanegan cover, his gravely intones perfectly suited to this spiritual, gloom-stained masterpiece.
Final number Last Exit For The Lost drapes us under its hypnotic ambience as it broods and builds, McCoy digging deep into Edinburgh’s underworld to deliver each word with religious force, a claustrophobic mania ensuing as we‘re nudged towards the metaphorical door. A member of the audience, quite the fan I’d say, takes precariously to someone’s shoulders, his arms weaving and lunging towards McCoy, trance-like and unaware he’s attracting more attention than the band. Of course this was a regular scene back in the day when the ancient tradition of pyramid building was as commonplace as holding a pint of cider & black. But alas it’s 2022 so security staff head over to ensure he gets down ok. No drama unfolds…I just hope he didn’t fall on his butt after slipping on some black ice on the way out the building later.
It’s fair to say that goth is a genre often mocked, wading against the tide of commercialism, but no one’s laughing tonight, certainly not the band who take their sermon deadly serious. Mind you, McCoy’s opening scorn “Move back, step outside yourself / Just move back, step outside yourself” on Blue Water, the first of the two track encore, is tonight spat out with shedloads more venom than the recorded version, and is frankly both terrifying and amusing. In fact, all I can l think about is how I wish I’d had the technical savvy to activate such a soundbite when someone walks up my garden path in the wee small hours…like the grubby little scally who nicked my Christmas wreath this week. Hindsight, eh? Final song of the night is Dawnrazor, from the band’s 1987 debut album of the same title, its gloriously rich chorus of guitars lurking dreamily under the thick fog of dry ice.
It’s an intense and immense end to a fabulous evening, and although the audience have been transported to a land they may never fully understand, what better reason can there then be for revisiting The Neph’s albums and live shows again and again, as many clearly do, deciphering a little bit here and there as they go. It’s brooding and it’s bleak but it’s also quite beautiful…longevity!
Words: Shirley Mack @musingsbymarie
Pictures: Calum Mackintosh @ayecandyphotography