In the midst of this cloudy week, I felt the urge to attend a concert, to taste this very special atmosphere of communion between a band and their audience. After receiving kind answers from the bands and the promoter, I elected the release concert of CABAL’s first EP.
KB18, in the south of the city, gave me the feeling of what underground really means: low ceiling, candles lighting tables made of pallets, and graffitis all over the walls. Ropes had also been hung from the ceiling.
It was mostly empty when I arrived, but still I met Kim, a photographer from Aarhus. We had a short chat, and then one of the guitarist of CABAL came to me and thanked me for showing up. I didn’t expect to face such a warm welcome, so thank you guys!
Unseen Faith delivered a solid show, which started in the catchiest possible way, with variations between brutal, cadenced themes and more melodic lines, supported by samples. Alexander’s voice was undermixed, but his impact, his energy made him the main point of attention for the audience. His companions were perfect, technically speaking, and I saw them shouting along their frontman.
The end of the show was more brutal, less subtle, but it warmed us up perfectly for what was to come.
The conditions for photography were tough, light was extremely dim and I had not practiced since the autumn. I ended up with blurred and noisy shots, but also with a renewed motivation that should bring me downtown more often.
CABAL is a new Copenhagen-based metalcore combo, and what they unleashed this evening, I had never witnessed. I’m still struggling to find the words.
The only light in the venue came from the back of the stage, and all the musicians except the drummer were plunged into darkness. In these conditions, it was impossible for me to get decent shots, the autofocus was completely lost and I didn’t managed to use manual focusing to my advantage. Luckily, rare moments of respite allowed for a few unusual pics.
From the start, the audience was transcended. Exaggerated movements, both in headbanging (bodybanging, I should say) and pogo, shouting, it was furious. In the very beginning, after a line or two, I saw the singer lose his microphone. I turned, and saw a guy from the audience, his feet entangled in the wire of the microphone, supported by two other people who were trying to release him. I still don’t know how it happened.
Later, there were two singers on stage, and then the first one disappeared. Or did he just get rid of his hoodie? I don’t know. Fans came on stage and took a microphone to sing along, or the singer Andreas would just share his own with them. This atmosphere was insane.
Half of the audience went crazy, the other half seemed dazed by the experience. I was in the second category, mesmerized by the violence, by these powerful vocals and by the overall frenzy. When it stopped, after only 20 minutes, I stood, unable to explain what had happened.
Walking in a rainy Copenhagen helped me recover. The first word that came to my mind? Chaos.