What a Sigh is there

 

 

It was my birthday a while ago and my lovely mother-in-law sent me a batch of rock-music-themed T-shirts as a present.  One was emblazoned with the striking cover-illustration of the 1998 album Cruelty and the Beast by County Suffolk gothic / symphonic heavy metal band Cradle of Filth.  Cruelty and the Beast was a concept album inspired by the legendary 16th / 17th century Hungarian countess Elizabeth Bathory, who supposedly bathed in the blood of slaughtered virgins in an attempt to keep herself young-looking.  (Fittingly, the album featured narration by the late, great horror-movie actress Ingrid Pitt, who played Bathory in the 1971 Hammer film Countess Dracula.)  Anyway, I’d been waiting for an opportunity to wear this new T-shirt in public.  The opportunity arrived on October 16th, when Japanese black metal band Sigh performed at Singapore’s Phil Studio.

 

 

Actually, my T-shirt matched the macabre vibe established by the second support act, the Singaporean Tok Yathraa.  (I couldn’t get away from work early enough to catch the first support act, which was N3M3515 – think of those numbers as letters – described intriguingly online as a “one-man ChipDoom Project from Singapore, armed with a Classic Gameboy, combining elements from Sludge Doom and Hardcore.”)  Tok Yathraa is a black-shrouded, hooded, white-faced, rather Bergmanesque figure who, when interviewed on the Filthy Gods of Metal website, described himself as “a one-man band which started on 16th May 2020… heavily influenced by King Diamond, Mercyful Fate, Black Sabbath, Immortal, S.M. Salim, Judas Priest and Wings.”  It might come as a shock for the classic Malay singer S.M. Salim or, indeed, Paul McCartney’s Wings to find themselves included in such illustriously metallic company.  In the same interview, he called his music “bomoh metal, a fusion of black metal plus heavy metal plus focusing on subjects of local / Asia ghosts.”

 

Now fronting a three-piece band with a drummer and bass-player, Tok Yathraa put on a show that was simultaneously spooky and good fun, with his references to the ghosts and folklore of the Malay Peninsula nicely anticipating Halloween at the end of this month.  He went down well with the small but enthusiastic crowd whom, at the beginning of his set, he encouraged to stand close to the stage to make things more intimate.

 

 

Headliners Sigh also have roots in the sub-genre of black metal, which esteems shrieking vocals, hectic and distorted guitars and copious allusions to occult, Satanic and / or pagan skulduggery, and is essayed by corpse-painted and pseudonym-laden musicians.  Indeed, historically, their black metal credentials are impeccable.  They formed in 1989, heavily inspired by the black metal scene becoming popular – and soon notorious – in Scandinavia and a few years later were signed to the Norwegian label Deathlike Silence Records by Euronymous, co-founder of the band Mayhem.  And, yes, Euronymous was the bloke who’d be stabbed to death in 1993 by Varg Vikernes, of the band Burzum, during a period when the Norwegian black metal scene went down some very dark roads indeed.

 

 

But in the three decades since – during which time, vocalist, keyboardist and bassist Mirai Kawashima has been the band’s leading light and one, enduring member – Sigh have also distinguished themselves with their willingness to experiment.  Their sound has incorporated elements from classical music, traditional Japanese music and elsewhere, so that it’s earned such epithets as ‘avant-garde’ and ‘progressive’.  Their eclectic-ness was certainly on display tonight.  For example, their second singer and multi-instrumentalist Dr Mikannibal – according to Google AI, she’s actually a professor with ‘a doctorate in physics form the University of Tokyo’ – played a shamisen at one point and a saxophone at another.  That was when she wasn’t pouring fake blood over her face from a goblet and shrieking sepulchrally – all good, ghoulish fun, by the way.

 

 

Their set – much of which was drawn from the 2007 album Hangman’s Hymn, which they re-recorded this year as I Saw the World’s End – Hangman’s Hymn MMXXV, and from the 2022 album Shiki – was a riot.  It contained enough of the band’s original black metal lodestone to keep headbangers in the audience happy but offered plenty of other elements to keep the proceedings fresh and unpredictable.  The band’s look was great too.  It was obviously influenced by such Japanese things as manga, kabuki and ukiyo-e – the colourful woodblock prints from the Edo period – as well as by Tim Burton and the traditional corpse-paint and general gruesomeness of black metal.  I noticed how the guitarists had painted-on stitch-marks at the corners of their mouths, suggesting Kuchisake Onna, the fearsome slit-mouthed lady of Japanese urban myth.  Though I don’t know what the black mask (or was it black gunk?) covering the face of the drummer was meant to represent.  Anyway, he looked pretty fearsome too.

 

 

As I said, the crowd was relatively small, but the performers gave it their all.  There was a splendid vibe and I had a great night.  In my heavy metal live-music memories, this will be up there with seeing Megadeth (supported by Korn) in Chicago in 1995, or Motorhead (supported by Saxon) in Norwich in 2009.  It didn’t matter that it wasn’t massively attended.  I tried to explain this to Tok Yathraa, whom I encountered at the end of the evening, after Sigh had finished their set.  He looked slightly bemused by my enthusiasm.  Well, I’d had a few beers by then.

 

One thing did put a dampener on the evening, though.  Also after the gig’s end, I got talking to one of Phil Studio’s staff-members and learned from him that the venue will be closing down on November 2nd.  This is thanks to an economically lethal cocktail of ‘high operational costs, compliance burdens, regulatory red tape, and double standards’.  It comes in the wake of the closure two months ago of the Projector Cinema, a rare place in Singapore where you could get to see movies considered too niche to be shown in the city’s cineplexes.  Oh dear, Singapore.  If you keep on shedding your independent, alternative and idiosyncratic creative spaces like this, you’re going to end up as bland, corporate and culturally airless as Dubai…  Or indeed, Edinburgh (see here, here and here).

 

Acting the goat

 

 

When I was a teenager in the United Kingdom, I recall people of my parents’ generation rolling their eyes in disgust when the radio or TV played music made by and aimed at young people. They regarded the musicians as ‘uncouth’ and ‘disrespectful’ – the Sex Pistols, for example, fronted by a young Johnny Rotten, sneering their way through God Save the Queen, or Motörhead, fronted by a young Lemmy, growling their way through Ace of Spades – and the music itself as ‘just a racket’.  There was, these members of the older generation agreed, only one way to cure the malaise of delinquency and degeneracy that’d afflicted younger folk and turned them into noisy spiky-haired louts and noisy long-haired hooligans…

 

“National service!” they’d agree.  “Bring back national service!  That’d teach these young whippersnappers some manners!  That’d sort them out!”

 

Well, the existence of the Singaporean band Wormrot nullifies that argument.  They are evidence that national service may not be the antidote some think it is for curing society’s younger members of their urge to make loud, unruly and unholy music. For the band formed in the late 2000s immediately after its founding members, vocalist Arif Suhaimi, guitarist Rasyid Juraimi and drummer Fitri completed the two years of national service that Singapore requires of its young male citizens.   Having hung up their uniforms and become Wormrot, the trio dedicated themselves to the noisy subgenre of grindcore, which Juraimi once described in an interview as “a bastard child of punk and metal with less limitation.”

 

Wormrot have achieved some notable things.  They were the first Singaporean act to play at Britain’s Glastonbury Festival, in 2017, though they had to perform in unusually cramped conditions – their stage was inside a train carriage, with its seats removed, which’d been dubbed the ‘Earache Express’.  And they’ve supported the legendary Napalm Death.  Even people who’ve never listened to grindcore, and have no idea what it is, know the name ‘Naplam Death’.

 

And fabulously, it was at one of their French concerts in 2012 that pictures of ‘Biquette the Grindcore Goat’ first went viral.  Biquette was, yes, a goat.  She was rescued from a milking factory and adopted by a communal farm, and she famously enjoyed being at the front of the crowd at heavy metal and punk concerts.

 

From disciplinemag.com

 

Yet things looked slightly bleak for Wormrot in recent years.  Fitri departed from the band in 2015, with Vijesh Ghariwala taking over the drumkit for the next nine years.  However, the band was less able to absorb the blow of losing vocalist Suhaimi in 2022.  They had to embark on a world tour using Gabriel Dubko (of the German band Implore) as a temporary, stand-in singer.  As a result, they arrived back in Singapore lacking the services of a full-time vocalist.

 

Happily, both Suhaimi and Fitri rejoined Wormrot in 2024, meaning the band has now reverted to its original line-up. The middle of this month saw them appear at an event with the self-explanatory title SG Metal Mayhem V, held at the Singaporean venue Phil Studio. Though Wormrot were the third of four bands on the bill, and thus weren’t the headliners, I suspect it was their presence that attracted the bulk of the local crowd – this was a chance to see the rejuvenated band back in business.

 

I couldn’t leave work until after SG Metal Mayhem V had started and unfortunately I missed the opening act, Microchip Terror, an artist who specialises in ‘electronic body horror music’.  I’ve listened to some of his stuff online and, to me, it seems an intriguing blend of Nine Inch Nails, synthy old John-Carpenter movie scores and death metal vocals.  I made it there in time to catch the second band, the Japanese outfit Kruelty who, their website claims, “find that sweet spot… of heavy beatdown hardcore and 90s American / Scandinavian death / doom metal…”  Kruelty’s vocalist Zuma (Kohei Azuma) was in fine growly form and their set was well-received.

 

 

Also growly and well-received were the evening’s headliners, the veteran – on the go since 1990 – Brazilian death metal band Krisiun.  This outfit’s line-up consists of three brothers: vocalist and bassist Alex Camargo, guitarist Moyses Kolesne and drummer Max Kolesne.  When I think of bands containing three or more siblings, the Bee Gees, the Osmonds, the Jackson 5, Hanson and the Corrs spring to mind, but Krisiun are a wee bit less… genteel than that lot.  With their beards, long hair, denims and tattoos, they have an outlaw-ish / biker-ish vibe.  If Lemmy had ever played a warlord in a post-apocalyptic sci-fi movie – he was in one such movie once, but in a minor role – I could imagine this trio playing his phalanx of bodyguards.  Anyway, Krisiun delivered the goods at SG Metal Mayhem V, their aggressive vocals and brutal sound offset by some impressively virtuoso guitar-playing.

 

But before that, the crowd got to see – and certainly got to hear – local heroes Wormrot.  The cacophony they produced, and its pleasures, are best summed up by a comment about them I read on Reddit.  After attending a Wormrot gig, the writer “couldn’t hear the whole way home” and a ringing in his ears “didn’t go away for a couple days,” but… “It was fantastic.”  Yes, by standing within earshot of Juraimi’s manic guitarwork, and Fitri’s frenzied drumming, and Suhaimi’s inhuman screeching, you’re subjecting yourself to a massive sonic assault.  But the experience is strangely wonderful.

 

The delighted crowd showed their appreciation by forming a mosh-pit – though this being Singapore, it was a slightly less bone-juddering mosh-pit than in other metal gigs in other parts of the world.  It more resembled a demented conga-line.  There were also attempts at crowd-surfing, though these threatened to end up like Jack Black’s famously disastrous attempt to crowd-surf in School of Rock (2003).

 

And sweetly, I think I saw someone wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the words Grindcore Goat.  Rest in Peace, Biquette.