Coheed and Cambria are, above all, one hell of a rock band. Sandwiched between their Download and Hellfest appearances was a very special London date and, ignoring the gimmicks, they proved once again why they’ve earned their reputation as one of the world’s greatest prog-meets-metal acts. Â
The big draw for some, excluding those who couldn’t make it to Download and still wanted to see their idols, was Coheed’s 2007 album ‘No World For Tomorrow’ played in its entirety as one vast cinematic masterpiece. No breaks, no crowd interaction, just the sprawling space-scape speaking for itself. Their set also answered the question once and for all as to whether you can appreciate Claudio Sanchez et al’s brand of big, brainy sound without understanding the lore of ‘Amory Wars’, the confusing and sometimes meta self-penned story that all the band’s albums are based on. The answer is: yes, absolutely you can. Some fans bought the comic books from the merch stand and were nervously flicking through them before the show, but at no point did Coheed’s set feel like it was tied to their space opera shenanigans. It was a glorious celebration of what a relatively simple band setup can achieve.Â
But first, Soul Glo. They play noise hardcore fusion, baffling in its intensity. It’s Rage Against The Machine in its most literal sense, dropping between preaching politics and shrieking like a banshee in between street beats to soundtrack the downfall of society. Vocalist Pierce Jordan is a gentleman when he politely thanks the crowd, but put a mic into his hand and he’s transformed into a raging sandstorm powered by funk bass. Claudio Sanchez’s statement that racists are never welcome at his shows is channelled through Soul Glo as a challenge. Anyone in the crowd with hate in their hearts will have it blasted from them by the sheer sonic melanated power of these guys.Â
‘The Reaping’ is a surprisingly solemn start from Coheed and Cambria. A hushed reverent silence falls upon the crowd before Sanchez’s voice pierces the thunderous sound effects and the crowd sing his words back to him. Then, a punch. ‘No World For Tomorrow’ proves that they really are a rock band, the electric children of Led Zeppelin, every lyric transformed into a head nodding anthem. Sanchez is jumping, prancing, his head snapping, carried away by the flow of the music he’s channelling. He’s like a conduit throughout this performance, less a creator and more allowing his vision of robots fighting soul-stealing dictators to diffuse through him. The tender electronic notes of ‘The Hound (Of Blood and Rank)’ push waves of claps, then the wail and the bass and playful pull of tension and tendons send their set into the territory of stadium rock. For some bands, their lack of acknowledgement that the audience is even there could be seen as callous, but you can almost feel the tendrils of the connection between the band and audience forming and reforming in front of your eyes.Â
You do feel the episodic nature of the story they’re trying to tell in the dramatic shifts between each song. ‘Feathers’ bites and struts through a smoke machine springtime forest. It’s an affirmation of better times between the “whoas.” Exotic music rises up and piano fades before a Metallica moment in ‘Mother Superior’, creating a cold mist of memory which lurks over the lushness of the layers of bass before dissipating into waves of velvet fuzz. Sanchez proves on this song that he has a far deeper voice with much less of a whine which can bear a huge load of emotion before a guitar sledgehammer smacks it back into line. Live, ‘The Road And The Damned’ is lonely and midnight serious. Flowing like lava sludge, it’s heavy and pushing but with a delicacy and loveliness in the lace like guitar. Just when you think you’ve got a grip on the Coheed sound, they drop in a track like ‘On The Brink’ with it’s classical cello samples to remind you that yes, this is a concept album rock opera. There’s a touch of aching Clapton in Sanchez’s fingers; burning slowly and circling wryly, proving that there’s some serious pipes under that hair.
Barely a second passes after the band walk offstage before a shout rises from the crowd: ’Coheed!’ Spotlights shift like Close Encounters. There’s a ritualistic quality to the quieter, more epic songs like ‘The Embers of Fire’; they’re huge, victorious, spreading dust over all other bands. ‘Beautiful Losers’ acquires a harsher, more underground Tom Morello intro to counter the dreamy chorus and it’s during the seven song encore that a truth began to emerge… Â
This is show where the music itself entirely took centre stage rather than the performers. The opulence and intricacy of the performance was not from the stage antics, or the banter. It was entirely from the aural creations sent out into the micro-universe of Kentish Town Forum and formed bonds with the rapt crowd seemingly personified and unaided. There’s something about that fact which is so damn impressive on it’s own before you even consider the technical level of what these guys are producing.Â
Coheed put on the kind of show that will be talked about for a long time to come, purely based on allowing their music to be heard live rather than any special effort in presentation, and now the bar is set very, very high for all other bands in the prog metal sphere.Â
KATE ALLVEY