WOLVERINE

Earlier this year, Highbury’s The Garage venue closed its doors to undergo a massive, glammed-up refurb. But tonight, in a weird twist of fate, London’s iconic venue has never felt emptier. Despite the brand new sound system and lighting rig in the 600-capacity main room, there’s a painful smattering of only 10 punters watching tonight’s opening band, oddland. it’s awkward beyond belief – you can almost hear the toilets flushing between songs.

Some bands would buckle under the disappointment, but not oddland, whose lauded second album origin came out last year. Blending atmospheric, doom-like lower strains with complex, technical guitar playing and a voice edging towards new Romantic, these Finns create an immersive experience in an empty venue. “You have to take these things with humour,” says their singer Sakari ojanen.

it’s not clear if he’s referring to the audience presence or his sore throat, which has encouraged a couple of wobbly high notes, but either way, they put on a good show, ranging from the rousing crunch of Penumbra to the bottomless iron stride of Will.

Until Rain aren’t put off by the lack of turnout, mustering boundless innocent enthusiasm while they tap into that fashionable bottom-quivering djent sound on songs like Something Might Happen. Bassist Linus Abrahamson lunges and limbos as he drills out deep rhythms for their mad-hatter heavy prog.

Cons Marg articulates his vocal dexterity with dramatic growls and falsetto high notes akin to the vocal gymnastics of System of A Down, and their music isn’t a million miles from this influence either, bending, plunging and tempo shifting every minute or so.

it could be brilliant, but their set is too drum-heavy, losing the atmospheric padding that synth player Lef Germenlis should be providing.

Any hopes for a deluge of latecomers fades away as Wolverine begin their slot. This Cold Heart of Mine bites with the epic iciness of Queensrÿche, tempered with latter-day katatonia, throwing elongated vocal bullets through a shield of luscious, atmospheric prog.

“This one’s about my daughter who had a heart condition that threatened her life,” says vocalist Stefan Zell before enveloping us with minor keys.

The successive long notes don’t come without their penalties, as Wolverine’s semi-morose steer moves into bland territory, and their atmospheric hooks fritter away into the empty spaces. However, in Memory of Me remedies that with a blast of synth-driven brooding heaviness oozing emotion.

it might not be the show that the band hoped for, but it was a solid performance for the fans who did turn up.