EMPEROR reignite three decades of wrath.
NOTODDEN TEATER, NOTODDEN
Black metal’s true visionaries overcome an excess of visuals
ANY EMPEROR SHOW is guaranteed to bring a host of memories flooding back into an all-immersive present, but tonight’s livestream – dubbed, with a nod to past live and compilation albums, A Night Of Emperial Wrath – comes with a few added, welcome echoes. For a start, there’s an actual audience, albeit out of sight and clearly socially distanced from the well-mannered applause that greets each song, rather than a more fitting ecstatic critical mass.
Having said that, Emperor have become one of heavy metal’s genuinely class acts, with a vision that still sounds so startling it never feels like a mere exercise in nostalgia. Perhaps an outdoor setting, or more elaborate stage production would have accentuated Emperor’s grand, firmament-warping sweep, but from the moment Ihsahn leads the charge into the opening In The Wordless Chamber, all parping splendour and carnival-in-a-cyclone dynamics, the effect
is utterly transporting, no matter where you’re watching from.
Ranging across their entire history over the course of 75 minutes, with the emphasis on
In The Nightside Eclipse and Anthems To The Welkin At Dusk, Emperor make the immensity of their music look effortless. Thus Spake
The Nightspirit’s wraith-swirl of keyboards, progressive tumult and romantic invocations are channelled by Samoth and bassist Secthdamon with minimal physical fuss, while With Strength I Burn is a showcase for the full, powerful spectrum of Ihsahn’s voice.
After a visual interlude of burning torches set to Ave Satani, the blue beams bathing the stage turn red as ex-bassist Mortiis returns, in full troll garb, with Trym temporarily replaced by former drummer Faust. Faust’s continued presence in the metal scene is still deeply controversial for many, but for the fans on the chat it’s evident he remains an integral part of Emperor lore. They launch into the Bathory cover Call From The Grave, and segue into Wrath Of The Tyrant’s feral rampage.
The only aspect that threatens to break the spell is the set of images superimposed on the screen from The Majesty Of The Nightsky onwards. The tracking shots of waterfalls, forests and skylines are more visual interference than enhancement, even if the green stage lights battling with the intrusive imagery do resemble the aurora borealis at least. Songs wired so deeply into your DNA can’t be completely obscured, though. Faust’s return for the diabolical fantasia of I Am The Black Wizards, Inno A Satana’s as above, so below fusion of fury and grandeur, and the encore of Ye Entrancemperium taking on all the vivid, apocalyptic pandemonium of a John Martin painting all feel every bit as ageless as when you first heard them. Visual overloads aside, tonight is the upheaval of the heavens rendered immaculate.
JONATHAN SELZER