Live Review: Apocalyptica, Rise Of Avernus

Bridging the gap between Katatonia, Nightwish and Anathema, Sydney's Rise Of Avernus visibly revelled in airing cuts from their self-titled debut EP to a well-populated room. Despite only being afforded a mere half-hour, the prog-doomsters acquitted themselves well enough to not appear lost on such a large stage. Splashes of gothic keys, beauty and the beast vocal trade-offs and Andrew Craig's hard-hitting drumming were cornerstones of a warmly received display. Perhaps some intricacies were lost in the shuffle mix-wise, but they clearly finished the night with some new devotees.

The smattering of European festival shirts indicated selected punters had previously trekked to foreign lands to catch Apocalyptica. Evidently though, many had waited a decade or more to finally witness the distorted, effects-laden cello-wielding Finns in action. The packed venue gave them a hero's welcome on their first visit to these parts, but how effectively their cellocore (joking, like we need further over-classification in heavy music) would translate to a more intimate setting across 100 minutes was a source of curiosity.

After nearly 20 years though, the predominantly instrumental quartet possess sizeable stage presence and are old hands at pacing. They maintained the crowd's attention via a mix of sheer showmanship (shameless rock moves, impressive windmill headbanging), littering the set with expected Metallica covers and enlisting touring vocalist Tipe Johnson for a handful of tracks. There were also a nod to Sepultura and a solo spot that briefly lost the crowd's attention as punters instead chatted among themselves. Johnson's Geoff Tate-esque tones lent a decidedly fresh slant to Corey Taylor's studio effort on the infectious I'm Not Jesus; ditto for Gavin Rossdale's End Of Me. Johnson also substituted for Lauri Ylönen (The Rasmus) on Life Burns! and Adam Gontier (Three Days Grace) for I Don't Care, showcasing added versatility. Hearty singalongs ensued.

These were not as passionate as the audience interaction for renditions of Metallica classics though. Furiously precise drummer Mikko Sirén made playing Master Of Puppets appear far more effortless than Lars Ulrich has in eons, also ably holding down the fort in Dave Lombardo's absence during thrashed-up Last Hope. Somewhere, late composer Michael Kamen was looking on, smiling, as they tackled Nothing Else Matters. Further crowd-pleasers (One, Seek And Destroy, inevitable Enter Sandman), which Apocalyptica has long proven tailor-made for them, completed an inaugural display that surely surpassed the expectations of all parties. Obey your master(s).