Hail Satan, Cthulhu fhtagn! Why choose one cult when you can have both? The black/death metal band Skaphos kicked off their tour at La Péniche Antipode in Paris, alongside Antania, the doom/bass/dark electro duo. Two different sonic aesthetics, certainly, but a shared taste for darkness and heaviness... and what’s more, Sanit Mils booked Skaphos on a boat and, a relevant choice given the band’s abyssal universe! With 1914 playing a little further away, the metalheads were divided. The barge wasn’t full, but who cares: there are enough of us to start our own little dark underwater cult!
ANTANIA
Antania kicked off the evening at this rather unusual Parisian venue, and we absolutely love Antania. Amidst all those people (most of whom were probably more into black metal, given the headliner) who were wondering, “What the hell is Antania?”, we were absolutely buzzing (in a sinsister way, of course) to finally see them back on stage, and in such an inspiring venue. We love them because they’re deeply dark, gritty and crushing; we love them because their look is killer and our photographer will consequently be chuffed (while brooding, of course); we love them because they’re grim, brutal and violent. The band classifies itself as “aggrotech death metal” and indeed, their music makes you want to dance, smash everything up, and perhaps do both at the same time.
So here we find Kali Mortem, whose silhouette, outlined by her toga, is as mysterious as that of a mourner wailing her grief in a powerful voice during a satanic ceremony in a graveyard, and Dr. Luna, who plays fiercely with his machines (he inevitably reminds us of Author & Punisher) surrounded by skulls, wearing a horned mask himself that makes his silhouette very appealing to an audience like us. The sound, though raw, is perfect and sweeps us away from the very first seconds, whilst beautiful blood-red lights paint a picture of haunting darkness.
It’s effective; it’s a great way to let off steam after a day’s work, but that’s not all. We also appreciate the subtle melodies lurking beneath the crushing basslines, the abundance of creative ideas, and the two musicians’ obvious passion for electronic sounds. We also appreciate the universe rooted in that of serial killers (the evening opens with Fishtro, an obvious reference to the cannibalistic serial killer Albert Fish - Fish on a boat, what a relevant start!). The exploration—both figurative and abstract—of the human soul in its most terrifying aspects provides an inexhaustible source for creating atmospheres that are as unsettling as they are thrilling, and these come into their own during live performances.
La Péniche Antipode is a small venue that can only accommodate a handful of people (it goes without saying that the best music isn’t meant to please the masses anyway), and certainly not everyone was there for them, but judging by the compliments we heard, the smiles (dark ones, of course), and the crowd at the merch stall at the end of the set who came to chat with the musicians, they clearly took everyone down to hell with them, and we’re delighted about it!
SKAPHOS
Among old sea dogs, we tell each other legends. Tales of voyages, of storms of the century, of shadowy figures glimpsed during a particularly violent storm, between two gigantic waves. The sort of stuff that could drive you mad, which we exchange in hushed tones over a pint of rum. For example, anyone who has ever caught a glimpse of Skaphos knows that they only appear in impenetrable fog. The Péniche Antipode fills with thick smoke several minutes before the concert begins, immediately plunging us into a mysterious, suffocating parallel universe. You can’t see a thing. Each microphone stand has its own little orange light: it brings to mind the glow of the black seadevils, those deep-sea fish that lure you in only to devour you, or the hues associated with Jules Verne’s steampunk universe. And then it begins, and Skaphos immediately whisks us 20,000 leagues under the Bassin de la Villette, the local extension of the Canal Saint-Martin.
‘CULTIIIIIISTS!’, we're asked. ‘HAVE YOU HEARD THE CALL OF THE ABYSS?’ (or the depths—memories fade). And how we’ve heard it! The whispers in the darkness, the dissonant music, those floating down below, where soon we too shall float: all of that is our daily life. We’re going to be just fine. Skaphos is crushing us, their music is wild, the pressure unbearable. We’re suffocating and we’re happy, right there, drowning and watching our rotting carcasses get eaten by crustaceans so we can be reborn with a few bonus tentacles! On stage, the musicians have cool make-up, priests of the putrid depths... we’re reminded of Davy Jones’s mates in Pirates of the Caribbean, but we feel it’s better to say that the Péniche Antipode is turning into Charon’s boat for the evening! Earlier, we spoke of legends and forbidden secrets: it’s whispered that Skaphos have a drummer, and a relatively new... Some people are said to have seen him, in the mist and the gloom. In hushed tones, it’s rumoured that he’s in his underwear, or thereabouts. We’re afraid, afraid of what lurks in the shadows. The venue becomes stifling, it smells of the beast, we’re drowning.
Little by little, the ancient, unnameable things lurking within the music take hold of the metalheads’ minds and override their reason. At first, it’s every man for himself: everyone shakes their wild hair in their own corner, helping to clear the smoke a bit. Then, tentatively, bodies start to bump into one another, politely at first, as if testing the waters, seeing if a bit of a scuffle might break out. Then the venue goes into spin cycle mode and it’s fun chaos. The Antania crew watch the show; it gives them a good laugh.
Who knows which of the two bands on the bill made for the more bizarre pairing. We, for one, loved these two acts – so different, yet perfectly suited to the atmosphere of a dark, underworld ritual – and the cultists in attendance left with the gifts promised by the Great Old Ones: greasy hair, clammy skin that sometimes turned blue, a few tentacles, and an indescribable stench.
