Cattle Decapitation, Shadow Of Intent, Revocation and Vulvodynia filled the Electric Brixton with Brutal, Symphonic and Technical Death Metal so infectious that fans will be in recovery for weeks.
Cattle Decapitation – Shadow Of Intent – Revocation – Vulvodynia
Electric Brixton – 30 January 2025
Words: Lucy Dunnet
Photography: Manuela Langotsch
Cattle Decapitation
A corona-drinking, bum-grabbing terrasite saunters onto the stage, his wing-like legs flapping pitifully as he waves at the crowd: the Cattle Decapitation mascot has arrived. The terrasite’s appearance has the crowd oozing anticipation and squeezing in some last-minute stretches ahead of what was to be a plague of musical chaos. “We let the kids have fun; now it’s our turn,” declares some particularly feral-looking fans.
Travis Ryan, legendary vocalist and self-proclaimed weirdo, kicks off Cattle Decapitation’s performance by shoving his mic in his back pocket and drowning his head with water. At the same time, I am smacked in the back of the head with a cup of beer, but take this as a symbolic sign of connection rather than a painful, soggy shock.
Travis then hoicks spit into the air, catches it, and twists his arms around his face in a bizarre display before launching into The Carbon Stampede. 
From the sickly-coloured pentagram lighting arrangement to Cattle Decapitation’s assaulting stage presence, the crowd is enraptured as we scream “We eat our young” in terrifying unison. The pit for Scourge Of The Offspring is vicious and one fan sums up the night so far particularly well: “I’ve had seven drinks and been hit multiple times; I’m having a great time.”
The motion-sick-inducing rollercoaster of tempos in Bring Back The Plague, led by David McGraw’s annihilation of his drum kit, keeps the crowd moshing like wild beasts. Guitarist Josh Elmore is grounded in his focus and intensity, while Olivier Pinard (bass) and Belisario Dimuzio (rhythm guitar) display some of the slickest helicoptering and headbanging.
“Now THAT’S a pit.” The pit stretches the Electric Brixton’s limits for the set finisher, Death Atlas, with an appropriate wall of death, giving Cattle Decapitation fans one last chance to demonstrate their obsession with this boundary-pushing band. Travis Ryan leaves one final impression by running to the front barrier and charging, handing out fist bumps and hugs to as many humans as possible.
Cattle Decapitation are a bombardment of insanely good Metal, incomparable goblin-esque melodies, and performance antics so captivating you have no choice but to submerge yourself in their musical depiction of humanity’s infestation of the world. 
Shadow Of Intent
All grins and unexpected cheeriness are transformed into challenging stares and darkness; Shadow Of Intent bring the night with them onto the stage and the accompanying promise of excitement. 
We Descend… straight into a pit, a barrage of bodies that immediately brings back the smiles at how fantastic the energy for Shadow Of Intent is. Ben Duerr’s shrieks reach such a high pitch that my loop experience earplugs aren’t high-tech enough to allow them through; they come out immediately.
Shadow Of Intent’s melodic magnificence shines through in Melancholy, with the crowd screaming out “falling into oblivion” with unfettered intensity. The moshers and crowd surfers are non-stop, and the band never once break out of their dark, grinless personas, inciting goosebumps despite the raised temperatures. 
Ben Duerr’s harsh conductor hands demanding a wall of death interrupts the crowd surfing conveyor belt system. The moshers are only too eager to comply, and the black pit is lit up. Jarring drum beats rip through the air almost as aggressively as the crowd surfer who manages to rip out a chunk of my hair. Shadow Of Intent’s addictive melodies and jarring drum beats release so many endorphins that pain becomes a distant afterthought.
“You fuckers disappeared,” one fan shouts. “Yeh, we got swallowed by the pit,” their “fuckers” of friends respond. Shadow Of Intent are an ominous force of Symphonic Deathcore brilliance, with grim reaper-like stage presence and music that causes even the most stoic of fans to break out grinning. 
Revocation
The Boston-based Technical Death Metal outfit, Revocation, bring a level of unexpected cheeriness to the stage despite the brutality of their setlist. The only times guitarist and vocalist Dave Davidson isn’t grinning is when the band sync up with their ‘is it a bad smell or is this just really cool’ facial expressions.
Musically, Revocation are really exciting. Davidson’s application of his Jazz guitar studies lead to some insanely cool groove rhythms and shredding guitar solos. By song three, Teratogenesis, a pit has been born, albeit a beer rink of a pit that sees several eager fans hit the floor immediately. The enthusiasm from the crowd is so great that heads are banging to all sorts of time signatures, and limbs flinging in all directions. 
Davidson tells us that London is one of their favourite cities. With this knowledge in mind, the crowd scream extra hard for their new song, Confines Of Infinity. The mosh pit is like a tornado: far more dangerous on the edge of it than in it.
The band’s intensity is so exciting to watch and listen to that we highly recommend getting as up front, close and personal as possible.
Vulvodynia
The South African slammers, Vulvodynia, kick off the night of infectious Death Metal carnage at the Electric Brixton. With the line for Cattle Decapitation’s merch stand winding its way from one side of the venue to the other, Vulvodynia’s onslaught of brutal slams and growls serve as excellent entertainment for the queuers. 
Guitarist-turned-vocalist Lwandile Prusent growls and shrieks with youthful energy, immediately owning the stage and inspiring multiple fists to pump into the air. Vulvodynia’s consistently catchy beats and riffs have some fans headbanging so aggressively low we fear for the ground’s safety. 
Instantly headbangable and visually entertaining, with watermelon one-pieces and Hawaiian flower chains adorning some of the band, not to mention Prusent’s waving of his sweat towel, Vulvodynia smash the night’s opening set.
