Remember that bit in Titanic where the ship hits the iceberg? Don’t deny it, you have seen it! Well that grinding crunch as the hull is wrenched apart and the ice gushes in is exactly what Gojira sound like in the live arena. No warbling, emotive ballads by song sirens in sight, they are a grinding onslaught of glacial anger and they are totally, utterly brilliant.
The band have a history with the festival and as the most universally successful French act on the bill, they justify their high billing with a well-calculated avalanche of sound. The music they play seems to be at odds with itself, both cold and distant yet pulsing with energy and emotion, it is metal that manages to bring a tear to the eye without sacrificing one second of heaviness. Technically speaking this is not even heavy metal anymore, but the sound of Armageddon enveloping the world. And the world does not burn, it freezes.
From Mars To Hellfest
Last time they played here they were supporting their now classic third album From Mars To Sirius and looked to have a bright future ahead of them. That future has now arrived and this year’s The Way Of All Flesh has seen them become heroes in their native land.
Just check out A Sight To Behold for example; a mechanised trip through the upper atmosphere that starts out as the most bizarre sing-a-long in the history of the festival and climaxes as a punishing fusillade of blast beats and down-tuned guitars. Then there’s From The Sky, the relentless audio equivalent to all life in the galaxy winking out.
The Heaviest Band In The Universe
Right from the get-go, the audience rewards their heroes with a thunderous applause and Gojira look to be on their way to stealing the entire weekend until they commit the cardinal sin of festival gigs: they play a drum solo. Suddenly the momentum stalls and while Mario Duplantier is a formidable expert in his chosen field, it cannot disguise the fact that for five minutes the excitement ebbs and boredom starts to set in. Thankfully they quickly return with an epic rendition of The Art Of Dying but this mere interlude is enough to prevent them from leaving Clisson as the best band this year.
That being said, once they get over this initial hiccup the remainder of the set is much as it was before; rhythmic bursts of cybernetic anguish that climaxes in a frankly jaw dropping Flying Whales. They were higher on the bill than Soulfly today but there was never any question they deserved it. A triumphant statement of intent, this may have been one of Gojira’s finest moments to date. Jack let go Rose, Jack let go.
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