LIVE FROM THE PIT: Deafheaven, Portrayal Of Guilt and Zeruel

The Palais is not the sort of venue you’d expect to host a blackgaze band. More often than not, it’s a place of shimmering disco balls, falling confetti, and late-night revelry. But on a cold Sunday in Nottingham, the glittering walls and mirrored corners became the backdrop for a night of sonic intensity, as Deafheaven and support transformed the space into something darker, heavier, and unforgettable.

With the first support slot taken by metalcore/shoegaze solo artist Zeruel, it was clear from the start that we were in for an interesting evening, where the guitars would be gazey and the atmosphere dark and cinematic. Hailing from Baltimore, Maryland, Zeruel got the crowd woken up and ready for the night ahead with their dynamic mix of heavy riffs and expansive production.

Next, the crowd was treated to the incredible Portrayal Of Guilt, from Austin, Texas. With guttural vocals and an intense, experimental theme, backed by a black and white art film-like visual as a backdrop, the band kept all eyes on them from the beginning. Likened to bands like Converge and Oathbreaker, and christened ‘blackened screamo’, though there was not much crowd interaction, and for those not familiar with the band, it was difficult to tell where each song started and ended, Portrayal Of Guilt provided a performance that blew many people away, with the flawless vocals and impassioned instrumentals.

Topping the bill was Deafheaven, fresh off the back of the release of their new album Lonely People with Power back in March. A passing fan lamented at the fact the venue chose to have a barrier, which set the tone for the rest of the show. The band admit they don’t consider themselves a black metal band, as despite the clear influence from the genre on their music, they lack the ethos and aesthetic you find with the genre, which became clear with the complete mix of different fans that had come to see them.

Opening the set with Doberman, followed by Magnolia, both from Lonely People with Power, followed up with songs Brought to the Water and Sunbather, from previous albums New Bermuda and Sunbather, the band knew their audience well and played to this power. Though vocalist George Clarke’s piercing shrieks mean that for most, they are not an easy band to sing along to, it didn’t mean that the crowd weren’t up for it. From intense crowd surfing matching the electric intensity seen on stage from Clarke, as well as the guitar riffs from founding member Kerry McCoy, as well as Shiv Mehra, along with the grounding bass line from Chris Johnson and providing the band's signature dynamic percussion, Daniel Tracy.

Following up was a steady trail of more tracks from Lonely People with Power, showcasing the new songs to old and new fans alike, with The Garden Route and Body Behaviour appearing on the set list. With each track, more and more people were gliding their way above the heads of the crowd, landing in front of George, which seemed to only intensify his movement towards the crowd, meaning he never stood still throughout the entire show. Closing out the first half of the set with Amethyst was met with raucous applause, and this only built up more and more towards the encore.

Returning to the stage to finish off the set, Deafheaven showed no signs of slowing down. Thrashing out more songs from Lonely People with Power, Incidental II and Revelator, which included flawless guest vocals from a crowd surfer travelling straight towards George at the barrier, before finishing off with Dream House from Sunbather and finally, the song that got the biggest reaction from everyone watching, Winona.

Deafheaven are a band who are in constant evolution, showing no fear in reshaping themselves whilst retaining the emotional core that made earlier albums like Sunbather a landmark. At The Palais, they showed once again their music isn’t just there to be heard; it's there to be lived, felt and carried home, with ringing ears and a pounding heart, eager for the next show.

Words: Lou Viner-Flood

Photos: Conrad Newton