Could you imagine a better way to spend a Monday evening sulking in the dark than watching Paradise Lost, Messa, and Lacrimas Profundere? This impressive lineup, presented at the Elysée Montmartre by Garmonbozia, brought together three big names when it comes to heavy darkness, each with their own cult following. While the gothic masters of doom/death were obviously the stars of the evening, presenting their excellent Ascension (review) to a packed house, connoisseurs knew that there would be plenty of reasons to sulk from the start of the evening. We didn't come to celebrate, we came to get depressed and grumble.
LACRIMAS PROFUNDERE
Don't be late: this rule is especially true when a band starts slightly earlier than expected! Lacrimas Profundere is eager to share their music with the audience, and those who haven't followed the band's career closely will be surprised by the energy of Julian Larre, the singer who joined the band in 2018. The guy runs around in all directions, climbs down to the barrier and then jumps over it to run into the pit... this is a far cry from the image we had of these veterans of gothic metal! We were hoping to mope around in the dark a bit, and now we find ourselves having to do ACTIVITIES, like clapping our hands and everything!
In over thirty years of existence, Lacrimas Profundere has changed and tried out a bunch of stuff. We like them best when they flirt with gothic rock rather than when they go all heavy. Despite their long career, the German band doesn't seem to be into nostalgia: except for Ave End, released in 2004, they only play songs from their last two albums. The show flies by at breakneck speed, lasting barely half an hour, an impression of speed reinforced by the performance of the singer, who seems to be wound up like a spring, under the probably amused gaze of veterans Oliver Schmid and Ilker Ersin, who are inevitably calmer.
A little reluctantly, we had a lot of fun. With their enthusiasm and crazy energy, Lacrimas Profundere mixes the most fun aspects of a Cradle of Filth circus, smoke jets included, with the flashy darkness of the 69 Eyes, adding a certain modernity that dusts off the clichés to offer something catchy and outrageous, just the right amount. It went too fast for us to understand everything, and we didn't expect the atmosphere to be so electric from the start, nor this supercharged mix of gothic/doom/death/metalcore! Our only regret is that, in their quest to be as effective as possible and offer as much as they could in such a short time, Lacrimas Profundere didn't have time to play their more melancholic songs... Hopefully next time!
MESSA
With Messa, at least, we know we won't burn out and that we'll finally be able to take some time to breathe. The set is entirely devoted to the recent album The Spin (review), played almost in its entirety. We appreciate the subtle influences of 80s gothic rock/cold wave (At Races), and the Italian band's ever-present touches of jazz and 70s... whose stage presence contrasts radically with Lacrimas Profundere!
There is something quite paradoxical about the performance: while The Spin was probably Messa's most embodied and personal album, moving away from the esoteric or more exotic themes of previous albums to dive into something more cathartic with tracks like The Dress or Thicker Blood, the quartet seems increasingly reluctant to put on a show. With absolute sobriety, without any posturing or artifice, Messa simply plays, without showing off or demonstrating... except for that damn Alberto Piccolo, with his insolent moustache and casually open shirt, who steals the limelight by pretending not to do anything special with his guitar, which he nevertheless masters with annoying ease!
Some might find this austere. However, Messa's music is not. You have to take the time to let yourself be carried away by these long, atmospheric tracks, to let Sara Bianchin's singing guide you into a misty universe that doesn't reveal itself immediately. As usual, it was utterly elegant. Messa seems to cultivate a distance that is not pretentious but rather detached; they do not quite belong to reality, and the concert passes like a mirage in the stifling heat of the sold-out Elysée Montmartre. This does not prevent a form of discreet and warm communication in the singer's smiles and her many thanks... The mirage continues a little after the concert, as the sound system keeps us entertained with Dead Can Dance. Classy.
PARADISE LOST
Okay, this time it's for real: no more fun and games, no more sports, no more warm smiles, no more celebrations. The kings of overwhelming melancholy take to the stage to the sound of Serpent on the Cross, from their recent album Ascension... but in the end, we only get to hear three singles from it during the evening. It's a shame about the incredible Salvation, but all the better for the rest: the set offers a fairly comprehensive exploration of the English band's discography, even if some albums are left out (you have to make choices).
Can we call it a best-of setlist? Almost, but not quite: by picking tracks that were sometimes unpopular at the time, Paradise Lost is having fun in its own way. It's their sense of humor, like when Nick Holmes asks if people here did like the album Host. The audience shouts its enthusiasm and the singer replies, “Are you sure?” At the time, it didn't receive the same reception. The same goes for Mouth from the album Believe in Nothing... With time, the tracks have become cult classics, once you let go of the reflexive pitchforks and bows and arrows that come out at the slightest surprise. We are delighted: it is in variety that Paradise Lost's talent is best appreciated, with the clear voice of that devil Nick Holmes, which continues to improve.
On these last two albums, Paradise Lost seemed to offer a fairly representative demonstration of their abilities, between theatrical funeral marches full of oppressive despair and conquering anthems. The concert reflects this, as we journey through different eras and different aesthetics. We sway along to the essential One Second and Say Just Words, play Depeche Mode during Nothing Sacred, before plunging into the abyss of darkness of rough doom with Beneath Broken Earth. We regain our strength when Paradise Lost gives us a glimpse of what Metallica could have been if they were better more goth (Once Solemn, True Belief, Pity the Sadness). Funeral music tailor-made for stadiums—now that's a funeral with style!
Between surprises and essentials (Faith Divides Us - Death Unites Us, during which we wave our cell phone lights while singing “ohohoooooh”), Paradise Lost delivers. On stage, unsurprisingly, Gregor Mackintosh sulks in his corner (even though he is regularly highlighted by his spotlight: he is the master of melodies that bury us alive), while Nick Holmes stands tall and solemn. Yet, in his own way, he entertains the audience with a few rare witty remarks. His deadpan humor works particularly well during an encore with a clearly festive theme: after the aptly named No Celebration, he says “Happy New Year” and then introduces Ghosts and its Sisters of Mercy overtones as a Christmas song. There you have it, the Paradise Lost take on celebration: ghosts, depression, death and, above all, no celebration! With them, the word “fun” is above all the beginning of “funeral.”
The only criticism we can level at them, ultimately, is that they spent too long backstage before the encore. Guys, we know it's all for show! Come back sooner and play us one more song! But which one? Well, good luck with that. A little No Hope in Sight? A fun Perfect Mask to be dark like it's 2002? It doesn't matter, everything is fine, as we saw with a setlist that covered a wide range (well, if we forget the lack of surprise in the choice of songs from the latest album). Paradise Lost brings people together and, despite their sullen faces, also offered ACTIVITIES to an audience that was only too happy to wave their hands, sing along to the choruses, and make pretty lights. Well, let's say it's ok to celebrate if it's 33,3% fun and 66,6% funeral!
