We arrive far too late to see the previous bands, but with our hearts and minds set on Gojira, we accept the dying minutes of their set as a challenge to make ourselves heard to each other when going for the customary pre-set piss.
Frankly, it would take a well-established act capable of uniting masses of beer-soaked punters to successfully follow what Gojira have just unleashed, and the job of rebuilding the venue they just sonically demolished goes to Ghost, or Ghost B.C. as they are now known following a ‘That’s our name!’ lawsuit.
Once we reach the third song, it sadly becomes apparent that there is something missing between the excellent theatrical image of the group and the actual music, which feels watered-down. That is not to say it is bad, but considering the singer, Papa Emeritus, looks like Pope King Diamond you’d be forgiven for expecting something heavier and more sinister.4
Killing Joke manage this, and there’s less of them in the band and only their singer (sometimes) dons face-paint: but even without it, he can scare the crap out of the front rows and command the crowd. Emeritus’ theatrical arm-waving and finger-wagging grates after a while as the stage suddenly looks too big, and he struggles to fill it while making sure his hat stays on.
Who wore it scarier? Ghost B.C.’s Papa Emeritus Vs. Killing Joke’s Jaz Coleman:
Then again, perhaps Gojira are the unwitting culprits here as a large chunk of the audience are still reassembling themselves or raving about the set. I and my gig-buddy still are, and we choose to shoot off early, not being able to stomach the underwhelming Ghost any longer. A blessing in face-paint, then.