Nasum Farewell Tour: Grind Finale in Ljubljana (2012)

Arhiv Arhiv Last updated 11 June 2026

Photos: Jerneja Jerak

Venue: AKC Metelkova, Gala hala, Ljubljana, Slovenia
Gig date: September 29, 2012
Attendance: 150 – 200
Ticket price: €20 (€24 on the day of the show)

Slovenia was part of the mosaic that wrote the last chapter in the history of Swedish grinders Nasum, but the true weight of this historic event will only be revealed by the blood test of time. That thought had been tangling around my head ever since the show’s organizers, the tireless Dihurčki, confirmed that the historic grind gig would happen, followed by the final lowering of the curtain and, without a doubt, the definitive farewell of one of the bands that left the biggest and most noticeable mark on this extreme genre at the turn of the millennium. After the tragic news that the post-earthquake tsunami had taken the life of founder, guitarist and bandleader Mieszko Talarczyk, a final goodbye became a matter of principle, since nobody could fill the hole in the lineup. On the band’s twentieth birthday and the eighth anniversary of the singer’s death, the spot under the dimmed spotlights was taken by Rotten Sound frontman Keijo Niinimaa. How this incarnation of the band, kept on life support purely for the sake of a dignified farewell and a concert ceremony, sounds live was the big unknown, and it’s what sent our crew to the scene of the gig on a gray September day.

Life stirred in front of Gala hala early on, since with two support acts the organizers fired up the stage lights earlier than usual, and the concert pulse of the sleepy, jaded Slovenian September crowd needed a proper wake-up call too. After a first head count it was clear that, at least in the first third of the night, when Nova Gorica death’n’rollers Hellcrawler took the stage, there’d be no need for any special air-saving measures, but the locals still proved they know how to have a good time, even if the floor in front of the stage wasn’t exactly shaking with pogo, moshing and the noise of hungry hordes of punk-metal hybrids. Despite their young age, Hellcrawler had already shown with last year’s debut Wastelands that they’ve got enough juice, and the mix of punk, metal, stoner and riff-calibrated primal, direct sonic punch is more than potent. The five-piece is rounded out by Valter on bass, Pijoe behind the drums, a tastefully unhinged, half-shaved Miran on vocals and the seasoned guitar duo of Aris Demirovič – Andraž Zlobec. They sound damn close to the days when Entombed were plowing their own furrow two decades ago, they weren’t immune to the cadaverous riffs of Carcass either, you can conditionally toss a splash of Mötörhead into the cocktail, plus a fair bit of blackened thrash with a Maiden patina (however incompatible that may sound), and you have to give the youngsters credit: they know how to serve things up musically. Best of all, the quintet doesn’t dwell on past achievements and old glory. Besides the standards from their debut record, they managed to weave three new songs into the set. Miran, by the way, looks a lot like the always fun, positivity-soaked drummer of the Brežice band Obkurčen, Tracy Teglo. He went looking for inspiration for his cathartic guttural vignettes about a post-apocalyptic world right among the spotlights, while the rest of the band’s rather stale stage cementing gave a more static picture, though on a very high musical level. The Nova Gorica hopefuls are undoubtedly capable of competing on the metal market, and the fact is that quite a few songs from the debut have, at least judging by the crowd’s reaction, caught on nicely in just over a year. Besides Rattlesnake Tavern there’s definitely Molten Faces Tribe too, and with its Maiden-style inserts, Towards The End also wins over ears and soul, a song the youngsters used to properly beat down all the static doubters who’d come only to grease their ears for the main dish of the night. I can only agree with those who see a bright future in Slovenia’s young hopes (even though the ID numbers of some members loudly object to that), and after the new songs I heard, like Coffin Garden, there’s no need to worry about a leap to a higher level, because all five Hellcrawler players are damn agile and good at handling their instruments. Next time they’d just need a bit more manly stage presence and a less shy way of talking to the crowd, but that’s just a matter of personal taste …

After a short break, the stage was taken by old friends of the Slovenian crowd, Seattle HC black thrashers with a death metal foundation, Black Breath. Not to generalize, but that high-octane blend of Dismember, Entombed and similar company, which plenty of people dove into happily in the nineties, was clearly more to the liking of many concertgoers than even the headliners’ set, because the atmosphere in the packed front rows was more than great. Besides crusties, grinders and metalheads, some unsuspecting representative of the press also found themselves in the intense mosh, and camera lenses faced a survival test as the first crowd surfers flew off the stage. Vocalist Neil McAdams, the guitar tandem of Eric Wallace – Mark Palm and the rhythm duo of drummer Jamie Byrum and bassist Elijah Nelson gave 110% of pure adrenaline and incredible energy at the crowd’s command – no pointless clowning around or verbal goat-bleating! Even though the stroll through their rather short but punchy discography went down without a single bone stuck in anyone’s throat, and besides the debut Heavy Breathing they put a lot of emphasis on this year’s record Sentenced To Life, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Black Breath go for the obvious way too much, though this time the generic approach wasn’t the kind of problem that would send anyone to a proctologist. The stage chemistry was far more eruptive than at the start, and the sound was upgraded into a steel crusher, after which plenty of people deservedly had to fill their lungs with the cool of the Ljubljana night. The American colors were nicely defended, and instead of cosmetics and posing, the Ljubljana crowd got a quality stage show and a primal, raw, uncompromising metallized trip into the safe shallows of garage-bred, already well-digested but still digestible moments from the turn of the last century. Still, I’d add: no huge peaks, though.

The main act came last, and the expectations, at least on my side, were huge. After last year’s announcement that Nasum would be calling it quits for good after 45 shows, it was clear that the final act would be something festive and special. Plenty of fans had put on suitable war paint, outfitted themselves with jackets covered in the band’s logos and styled their crust-punk hairdos, and numerous metalheads in their own shades of black also set off on the last journey of a once vital band marked and branded by tragedy. When the fanfares of the last judgment and cataclysm blared from the speakers and sirens of war and suffering roared into the crowd, it was clear that the final act was irrevocably beginning. Onto the stage come former guitarist and current drummer Anders Jakobsen, former bassist and current guitarist Jon Lindquist straps on his guitar, accompanied on the left by guitarist Urban Skytt with his gesturing and posing, Jesper Liverod picks up the bass, and last to take his place at the mic is the Finnish orator of grind, Keijo Niinimaa. After a noisy overture, the standard for the night is set by Mass Hypnosis, which outdoes the night’s earlier acts by a mile in decibels, and a brutal landing of direct, brutal grind whips up Gala hala’s insides. The crowd stood nailed to the floor, staring in awe at the shockwave of Swedish legends, but plenty of people were screaming along with the singer from the very first moment, mouthing the words and spreading and preaching the screaming gospels of destruction. The shockwaves didn’t let up as the set went on, and the consistent noise at a perfect ten properly deafened many a pair of ears. The turbines of the concert symbiosis roared at full throttle, and besides the guitars raised in the air and the atmospheric exaltation, you could feel that Nasum weren’t worried about form. With the emotional hugs and displays of affection between the members on stage, it was clear that this last act was a conscious farewell to something that had filled the lives and hearts of its members for years. Even though he’s a transplant into a body that isn’t his own, Keijo wove his own soul into Mieszko’s lyrics and so paid tribute to the band’s late cornerstone. The balance between chaos and harmony, between musical eros and morbid thanatos was perfect, and besides controlled rage, the stage was lit by a glow of brilliant musicality and seasoned stage moves, which, despite the fists and guitars in the air and the string biting, didn’t look even slightly cock-rock cheesy. The Swedish soul with, this time, Finnish vocal cords served up a perfect grind party, and the walk through all four studio acts, the albums Inhale/Exhale, Human 2.0, Helvete and Shift, went naturally, without anything forced or artificial. The moshpit came alive, and so did the stagediving, and between suffocating stampedes of rhythm and music came calculated pauses that drove the songs, from the below-the-stage chants of the debut’s title track Inhale/Exhale onward, toward the inevitable moment of the final goodbye. There was no shortage of songs you could dedicate to our government, our politics and the times we live in. Besides Bullshit, Time To Act!, Idiot Parade and I See Lies, I’d single out what smolders most in the hearts of the crowd: the song Wrath. After the encore, which, following a sweaty exit from the stage, was devoted to hearing out the requests of the hordes, the moment of the last rites came ever closer. The final act of farewell was served up meaningfully in the form of The End by the notorious legends of psychedelic disconnection The Doors, and after the last lowering of the curtains, the bow and the exit from the stage, the eclectic goodbye was final. Emotions you could cut with a knife took over every true fan, and the more reserved and lucid among us could only admit that the Ljubljana show was a beautiful farewell to the giants of grind. Ljubljana got its Grind finale in the form of a gorgeous concert treat, one we, at least from Nasum’s side, sadly won’t get a follow-up to.

It was a story about the phenomenon that happened in the Swedish grind underground at the turn of the millennium, and the miraculous alarm clock was called Nasum. Grind was made for revolt and catharsis, and with the drive of globalization the reasons kept piling up, enough for a (m)ental revolution to happen. Nasum’s iconoclastic oratorio called for deeds and action, but because of the daydreaming and hypnotized state of the masses, it was too often left unheard. Not even the post-earthquake wave that took the life of a young and talented lyricist and unbending revolutionary, who picked up a guitar instead of a rifle and dressed his slogans in music, washed that away. Even at the end of the second decade of existence, and after years of keeping the band in a state of artificial coma, none of this changed the world. The world, sadly, keeps spinning toward a point beyond which there will be no return. Cataclysm is on the horizon, and Nasum have already written their organon of profane gospels and handed it to future generations to ponder. There was nothing more to add and nothing more that could be taken away. The last act was written and the curtains fell. All that remained was emptiness and a clear awareness among those who think that not all that glitters is gold, and that not every gap and void can be filled with a ton of crap, because that simply wouldn’t be fair. Nasum knew that, so they preferred to leave the stage themselves, with honor and heads held high. To the sounds of the end and the touch of the breath of the eternal companion that Jim Morrison sang about too. After the end, there’s nothing left to add, right?