Live Review: Raised Fist, Provoke, She Cries Wolf

Hardcore's old guard are out in force at Max Watt's tonight to witness the first Brisbane show that highly celebrated-yet-perpetually underrated Swedish hardcore legends Raised Fist have played in almost five years. There's an excitement in the air and a good number of people down towards the stage when Gold Coast bruisers She Cries Wolf get the festivities started. Working through cuts off their new long-player Doubt, the five-piece hit jams with the technical adventurism of The Dillinger Escape Plan and the infectious vibes of Every Time I Die.

After a taste of what the new school has to offer, Provoke offer up a throwback to NYHC to remind the crowd of the headliner's vintage. No matter how many times they've been in front of a Brisbane crowd, Provoke's riffs hit hard enough to provoke a bit of floor punching down the front.

As much as tonight, like every good hardcore show, is a celebration of community for those feeling disenfranchised from an increasingly ugly world, Raised Fist come on like they're trying to show how far removed they are from your average punk-rock band. Here's these dudes who, after being a band for almost 25 years, are playing with a ferocity most bands in their early 20s wouldn't be able to match. As they launch into a phenomenally tight rendition of Sound Of The Republic straight out of the gate, the riffs possess the entire room. Frontman Alexander "Alle" Hagman, with the psyche and all the magnetism of 1984 Henry Rollins, has everyone hanging on his every syllable as he spits out screeds against the ills of the world. The best vocalist in hardcore, except for perhaps Blacklisted's George Hirsch, Hagman barks and screams like a rapper might deliver bars, and the pit finds the groove they need for a good slam in his cadences.

Drawing heavily on last year's From The North, the quintet blast through cuts like the acidic, internet-shit-talker-destroying Flow and the call to action on climate change, Man & Earth. Whether addressing topics personal or political, the conviction of the band is glaringly obvious as they bluntly present their humanist agenda. It's a powerful show, even if the run time barely passes 40 minutes thanks to a two-song encore. But in that 40 minutes, Raised Fist prove that they are everything a hardcore band should aspire to be. And, lucky for all the fans who were able to witness such a powerful performance, Hagman promises that, even after all this time, they have no intention of doing anything differently. When he introduces Until The End, the frontman promises, "We will stay like this, y'know, until the fucking end." So here's to hoping that gives younger hardcore bands plenty of time to take heed.