Islington Assembly Hall hasn’t been this packed since the last local elections, or perhaps a wedding between two people with very large families. It’s an odd choice of venue for modern vampires Creeper to finish the UK leg of their Sangui-Tour in support of their Lost Boys-esque duo of albums, but the primary school hall ambience has deterred none of Creeper’s faithful: it’s a sold out show and then some. If anything, the handicap of the venue makes Creeper’s ability to conjure an atmosphere using nothing but the power of fan faith and a bucketful of harmonies that much more impressive.
“Rock music is a horny vampire,” warns the voiceover before Creeper enter the stage, and yes, if you’re here for the “Horny Vampire Music”, as Creeper term their sound, then you’re bound to have a good time. However, with every statuesque pose from frontman Will Gould, revelations strike us. The ‘Sanguivore’ duet of albums were intended to fit together like gothic Jenga blocks, their separation only necessitated by time and recording limits. Live, the positioning of their tracks forms one hypnotic narrative of lurid gore and dark worship, and in the barely six months since ‘Sanguivore II’, they’ve already wormed their way into our bloodstream like a virus and taken root in our playlists. A flick of Gould’s wrist and we’re commanded into song for ‘Blood Magick (It’s A Ritual)’, the crisp darkness he evokes as he intones each chorus line intoxicating. Lovely post punk chimes illuminate a previously unheard growl on ‘Lovers Led Astray’ before the pounding, infernal vigour of ‘Headstones’ ignites a rabid circle pit – something this venue doesn’t see very often.
The more we hear, the quicker we’re inducted into the sweeping vision that Creeper have been building all along. It’s a journey we never knew were on, powered by whatever crystal idol Davey Havok sold his soul to in the noughties, and now we’re fully invested. The waltzing melodrama of ‘The Ballad Of Spook and Mercy’ provides a murder ballad on the largest scale, and the meaning bluesy burlesque of ‘Razorwire’ offers a compelling interlude in our tale, power and blues through Hannah Greenwood’s vocal cabaret flirtation. The theatrics of ‘The Crimson Bride’ grab you by the shoulders and shake you into belting out the unifying choruses before each pale cherry blossom note of ‘Love and Pain’ drifts down from above, the eruption of longing sending a dormant mirrorball spinning into life.
We love the drama and world-building, but we’re powered by the absolute shred Creeper can chuck out. Without the softening that studio production can offer, ‘Prey For The Night’ explodes with intense static and the play-within-a-play that is ‘Chapel Gates’ betrays a punk energy that reveals their rough grit away from the costumes and the polish that Creeper apply to their sound. ‘Parasite’ hits the metal motherlode that we were anticipating, a full anthem for the slamming crowd. Respite comes when they give us an intimate take on ‘More Than Death’, laden with wisdom and devotion from beyond the veil. It’s beautiful and wrenching in equal measure, a dramatic monologue from a rock opera waiting to be written. We take the verses and run with them, making each one our own.
A cracked grin from Gould is our reward for giving our all on ‘Further Than Forever’, the soundtrack to a rock opera waiting to be written and the perfect final act for a band who walk the tightrope above musical theatre grandiosity with their sound. Even the intro is enough to see a surfer absolutely flung across the room, seemingly weightless. The climax in the form of ‘Cry To Heaven’ is the epic payoff we knew it would be: we might be flagging by the time it appears, but the soaring chorus is enough to reignite us for one last bounce. Their secrets revealed, we feel closer to Creeper than ever before, and for a dark, splendid hour-and-a-bit, nothing else matters except their the cinematic whirlpool of the Sangui-tour and the grip it has on us.
KATE ALLVEY
