Death Crew: The best harm you've ever had
The Bloody Beetroots- Death Crew 77 are already attacking in force by the time I tackle the assault course of the arena, leaping over the moat of mud surrounding the Slam Tent and worming my way through the masses. Masked and dangerous, even without the sirens and eye-wincing bright lights, the Italian destroyers are threatening, their sinister silhouettes adding to the thrill in your chest.
The siren of Warp 1.9 acts as the perfect warning signal for the monitor-mounting masters of house. There’s nothing subtle about their performance here with slow builds binned in favour of full on sonic GBH.
With the tent bulging and dripping in it’s own weather system, the Sunday service has the last ones standing, giving it their all in the overload synths and beautifully torturous screams. With tops off in a large number of cases, fans drop out of the crowd for a quick breather before diving back into the path of the next hurricane to bounce off the tent walls.
Joined by a live drummer, the sheer eyeball shaking intensity of The Bloody Beetroots is built from the pounding rhythm of the kit, Jacopo Battagalia driving the mission. Remaining the most controlled element on stage, his mammoth pulse roots the beastly tracks with Bob Rifo and Tommy Tea leaping around, filtering through their arsenal of equipment to carry out their mission of mass eardrum destruction with the squelch of Cornelius.
The tent starts to ease slightly with the stage clash of electro-boy Deadmau5 out in the main area, although judging by the dropping bodies on the tent floor, they could just be bailing out in favour of a one way ticket to tent town. It unravels that this was perhaps not the most wise decision, with things about to get even more chaotic as the stage is invaded.
Two renegades add to the turbulence, appearing behind our masked hosts and running wild. For a second it seems like intrusion, until the hardcore face-quake of New Noise strikes and one of the frantic figures grabs the mic with a screamo vocal to identify himself as Refused’s Dennis Lyxzen. This has the tent crazed, so much so, that a mild moment to inhale is allowed briefly in the aftermath from the intro of Can’t Stop Me Now.
Creating utterly immense vibrations that could propel a natural disaster, Bloody Beetroots were nothing short of Awesome tonight. If only The Church Of Noise was available for prayer every Sunday.
