Author: Rok Klemše
Photos: Nina Grad
Venue: Klub Gromka, Ljubljana
Gig date: 05.03.2016
It’s rare for a band to leave such a huge, almost subliminal mark live that after the gig there’s something you simply can’t resist. No, this time it wasn’t about a »suicidal« Pepsi, but something more primitive. Barbarian. After Vienna’s Tulsadoom played, I was relentlessly driven to spin the cult masterpiece Conan the Barbarian again. Or even better, the brilliant Korgoth of Barbaria, which sadly never made it past the pilot.
But even before the Austrian barbarian horde swept in, Gromka was hit by the thrash force from the Slovenian coast, Black Reaper. We got to know this young thrash outfit from Goriška last October in Jedro, and it was already obvious back then that these kids are damn promising. In an age when the youth, if they listen to metal at all, waste their time on Korpiklaani, Sabaton or Amon Amarth, the guys from Black Reaper, despite their youth, are locked onto old-school thrash metal of the fattest, greasiest kind. The turnout was pretty pathetic, and besides their parents there were maybe ten, twenty of us watching Black Reaper, but that didn’t scare the guys one bit. They threw themselves into their set of aggressive, raw thrash like a pack of barbarians onto a harem of virgins and showed they’re a thrash force to be reckoned with. With excellent sound, the mix of German-sounding thrash (mostly early Kreator) with American-school moves (first and foremost Slayer, but also some Exodus crunch) came off even more convincing. Despite a few slip-ups, the guys won us over with their energy and youthful fierceness. Special praise goes to Patrik’s drumming, as he completely broke loose from his chains this time, while the devilishly fast soloing and Rok’s convincing, Mille-style barking vocals kept up just fine. The stage shyness that shows up mostly between songs vanishes completely during them, and most importantly, Black Reaper bet exclusively on original material. There’s still plenty of room for improvement, but the new song Agent Zero, which shows big, obvious progress in songwriting, is proof that there’s no need to worry about the future of Slovenian thrash.
Austrian metal has a reputation somewhat similar to Italian metal’s, i.e. out of thirty bands, three are listenable, and one of those is good. Luckily for those of us at Gromka on Saturday, Vienna’s Tulsadoom, who clearly took their name from the villain of the first Conan (brilliantly played by James Earl Jones), fall into that percentage. It wasn’t the flags and skulls that signaled their show would be something special, but the intro with one of the best film soundtracks ever, Basil Poledouris’ Anvil of Crom. True to the pomp, the Austrians marched onto the stage in costumes: the guitar section in black leggings (Virgin Penetrator looked like Abbath among them), drummer Doktharr Radiovodnik like something that escaped from Jalnovi Bobri, and vocalist Sototh Dult (with the looks of John Petrucci) as the priest of the cult of Thulsa Doom. All that theater would have been worth exactly zero if Tulsadoom didn’t offer musically way more than their looks first promise. The Viennese greeted the crowd of a few dozen with the brutal The Glory of Thulsa Doom, and the excellent sound again made sure the band thundered for a good hour like mighty anthems from the Hyborian age. Despite the goofing around, which could have come off totally »cheesy«, it (more or less) doesn’t, thanks to the convincing music, because Tulsadoom spit out a very high-quality mix of thrash and heavy metal, occasionally blackened with black metal influences. Over a colorful collection of riffs and a very solid rhythmic foundation, Sototh Dult shreds commandingly the whole time, his aggressive, raw vocals often livened up by high screams. Energy and testosterone sprayed off the stage like a geyser, and to songs like Attack the God of the Four Winds, Fuck the God of the Four Winds, Barbarian Beer Attack and Barbarian Bitchfuck, all we could do was rock out with abandon and bang our heads with the fired-up band. By Crom!
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