Live Review: Between The Buried & Me, The Contortionist, Ne Obliviscaris

On an evening which sought to tear at boundaries of heavy music convention, Ne Obliviscaris fit the job description. The Melburnians' road-hardened chops were readily apparent. Xenoyr and Tim Charl-es' bipolar, two-pronged vocal attack peppered their Opethian melodic extremity, the latter getting amongst the circle pit throughout And Plague Flowers The Kaleidoscope. Aside from airing a crushing new track, was also the first instance this reviewer has witnessed a punter playing air violin.

The headliners have had a recent knack of enlisting likeminded, cult progressive metal acts flaunting high-calibre musicianship to accompany them to these shores. This time it was The Contortionist's opportunity to display their wares to an audience largely attuned to their off-kilter time signatures and fleet-fingered fretwork. There was more than a faint whiff of Dream Theater and Cynic about the Americans, also echoing their onstage successors. Although opting not to engage those present much, lengthy instrumental passages were as precise as the English cricket team's dietary demands, serene moments interspersed with spurts of Michael Lessard's abrasive vocals.

Although those playing at the punk gig just metres away joked about the “metalcore kids” present for this show, Between The Buried & Me's audience extends far beyond that. As this performance reinforced, prog nerds, seasoned metallers of varying ages and the odd jazz aficionado all comprise their broad following. The common denominator was mutual adoration of the forward-thinking Americans. Returning after just a 12-month absence surely detracted from attendance, but it was the absolute diehards that an occasion like this – whereby they played latest disc The Parallax II: Future Sequence in its entirety – was squarely aimed at.

Live, the concept piece was somewhat akin to if Rush became enamoured by tech-death. Minimal chatter ensued so as to not ruin the illusion, but there were few bells and whistles, vocal chameleon/keyboardist Tommy Giles Rogers delivering with vein-popping intensity, inciting audience involvement throughout Astral Body and Telos, and flanked by tightly honed players. Encoring with punishingly labyrinth White Walls from 2007's Colors was a deft touch after such a cohesive set. As on record, those seeking to immerse themselves in the Parallax narrative and complexity were readily able. Conversely, punters merely seeking to bang their heads, mosh and occasionally sing along could do that also. Between The Buried & Me – the heaviest band to allegedly derive their moniker from a Counting Crows lyric – clearly continue to welcome all parties.