Live Review: Bastardfest 2012

This all-Australian festival embraces many facets of extreme music. That includes the much-maligned, yet undeniably popular deathcore field. Decked out in matching band basketball jerseys, Sydneysiders Alice Through The Windshield Glass were technically proficient and warmed up a few necks, although wore a tad thin. Newcastle's Cerebral Contortion played raw, if archetypal, thrash à la early Sepultura and Kreator, with a cover of Slayer's Piece By Piece winning the approval of many.

Perth's Animistic and their groove-laden, The Acacia Strain-inspired modern death were pleasing enough, albeit somewhat nondescript. This reviewer has only previously caught As Silence Breaks in larger rooms supporting international acts. Thus, it was a welcome prospect to encounter the Sydney mob in a smaller, sweaty room with their heavily Swedish-influenced melodic death/metalcore translating far more effectively. Daemon Foetal Harvest's relentless brutality was delivered with imposing stage presence. Not deviating whatsoever from the mid-'90s era Cannibal Corpse template, the Wollongong crew were short on memorable songs, but pleased those keen for a spot of mindless headbanging.

Beyond Terror Beyond Grace made a rare trick look easy on excellent latest disc Nadir, the Sydney/Perth outfit seamlessly transitioning from grindcore to melancholic black/death/post-metal. Which is why it was disappointing the band (performing as a trio sans sole original member, bassist Alex Nicholson) announced it would be their last show. However, they made a caustic, harrowing final salvo. Brisbane's Aversions Crown struck more poses than a Jersey Shore episode, but battled significant technical issues. Telegraphed beatdowns enabled pit ninjas to unleash the fury, with the band also attempting to entice non-believing purists to their technical but largely uninspired deathcore cause (“It's all heavy”) without much success.

The main stage noticeably swelled for Fuck… I'm Dead, who serenaded punters with filthy gore-grind and amusing banter and were afforded the festival's most positive response thus far. Sporting snappy ties and butchers' get-ups, they would have been over-dressed for the occasion if not for the bloodstains. More exuberant than Richard Simmons on Red Bull but possessing a slightly disconcerting look in his eyes, King Parrot vocalist Matt Young led his thrashed-up grinders through a brief spurt of mayhem. Manically running throughout the venue, the frontman was ably supported in the crazed energy stakes by his bandmates. They didn't care who got in their way – fans and photographers included – dishing out punishment with relish. Bruising pits ensued.

It's been eons since Astriaal last brought their deeply melodic, mystical yet still savage black metal to these parts. One of the bill's most anticipated acts, the Brisbane band didn't disappoint, creating a uniquely frostbitten atmosphere. Enigmatic, hooded frontman Arzarkhel remained shrouded in cloaks, while his fellow players opted to forgo anonymity and such extravagant stage-wear. After such a display, Norse's blackened death could have merely been reduced to a mere opportunity to have a breather or make a trip to the bar, but the Southern Highlands act acquitted themselves well. Their latest material earned a respectable reaction and even if they didn't leave with many new devotees, the already converted were satisfied.

“Do you like the new record?” Although in most instances this would be an easy method of igniting a crowd, for Blood Duster it took on an additionally humorous turn. Having destroyed new platter KVLT before anyone else could actually hear it, Melbourne's grind/death/rock nutters joyously teased their dedicated following with select tracks from it, playing to the day's largest crowd. Tearing through Piss Stomper while dodging stage-divers, they invited numerous audience members on stage for closing sing-along anthem Drink, Fight, Fuck. Although far less of a drawcard than their predecessors, Disentomb were still somewhat of an anticlimax. The brutal Brisbane death metallers emanated enthusiasm and pleased a sizeable chunk of fans, but a largely one-dimensional approach failed to capture the same level of excitement.

Despite playing their third Sydney show in as many months, there were some folks about who would see Psycroptic every week if possible. Tighter than a nun's nasty, Tasmania's tech-death maestros fused material from more groove-oriented latest disc The Inherited Repression with staples Skin Coffin and The Colour Of Sleep. Even the more wearied, booze-fuelled patrons dug deep and kick-started circle pits. Psycroptic continue to raise the bar for local extreme metal and were a fitting closer to another well-rounded, enjoyable event. Although not attracting the same hysteria and turnout as 2011, there were plenty of bastards who will be back next year. Come on, you'd fit right in.