Gallery, ReviewDitch This MagazineApril 11, 2024gallery, live, melbourne, Odin Imaging, Nathan Goldsworthy, odin imaging, Mai Tosley, Bring Me The Horizon, Sleep Token, Make Them Suffer, DAINE, John Cain Arena, Destroy All Lines

Bring Me The Horizon + Sleep Token + Make Them Suffer + DAINE @ John Cain Arena 10-04-24

photos: Nathan Goldsworthy @odin.imaging

The air in John Cain Arena crackled tonight, not just from the pyrotechnics that would later erupt like malevolent fireworks, but from a primal energy that pulsed through the crowd. Bring Me The Horizon, those Sheffield shepherds of sonic armageddon, had descended upon Melbourne, and the faithful were a writhing mass of anticipation.

Openers DAINE set the tone – The future of emo gave us a brutal ballet of strobe lights and screams, a sonic appetizer that left the audience both satiated and ravenous for more. Make Them Suffer followed, their blackened metalcore a dense fog of despair, a perfect soundtrack for the descent into the heart of the concert.

But the true revelation of the night was Sleep Token. Rising from the underground like Lazarus from the crypt, draped in ceremonial robes and shrouded in an aura of mystique, they delivered a performance that transcended mere music. The frontman, became a vessel for a dark, ethereal energy, his voice a chilling, operatic croon that sent shivers down spines. Their music, a complex tapestry of electronic flourishes and djent breakdowns, was unlike anything the crowd had witnessed before. Sleep Token wasn't just opening for Bring Me The Horizon; they were planting their flag, declaring their dominion over a new sonic frontier.

And then, the apocalypse arrived. Bring Me The Horizon took the stage, a maelstrom of sound and fury. Oli Sykes, the band's charismatic frontman, stalked the stage like a panther in a cage, his voice a venomous rasp that whipped the crowd into a frenzy. The venue pulsed with the bass, a physical force that threatened to cave in your chest. Mosh pits became human whirlpools, limbs flailing in a chaotic ballet.

The show wasn't just about pulverizing riffs, though. There were moments of unexpected tenderness. The concert opened with the disembodied voice of the well-known computer character EVE scanning the crowd, a chillingly familiar prelude to the chaos to come. Later, defying expectations, Oli plunged into the audience leaning in and embracing those die hard fans on the barrier.

The band together from all corners of the stage for an acoustic rendition of "StRaNgErs," a moment of shared vulnerability amidst the sonic onslaught.

But as Oli himself declared, there was "no time for soppy shite" tonight. With a wry grin, he roared, "Enuff of that! Let's go back and play some old shite!" and launched into the brutal anthem "Diamonds Aren't Forever."

Oli, ever the showman, kept the energy cranked. "You'll never forgive yourselves if you don't go mad for this bit," he teased before unleashing the ferocious "Parasite Eve." The mosh pits churned like a feeding frenzy, a visceral response to the band's sonic assault.

He wasn't the only one bringing the theatrics. During one particularly electrifying moment, Oli pulled a young woman named Charlie from the crowd. Handed a mic, she stood back-to-back with Oli, both of them giving the crowd the bird in a display of shared rebellion. Her screams, raw and defiant, rivaled Oli's own for ferocity as the sang ‘Antivist’

A pre-encore video montage flickered on the screen, a whirlwind of highlights from Bring Me The Horizon's lustrous career, a potent reminder of their journey and the unwavering devotion of their fans.

"This is the last song," Oli announced, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I just wanna see chaos." And chaos they delivered. "Throne" erupted from the speakers, a sonic maelstrom that sent the crowd into a final frenzy.

"Can I get a hell yeah?" Oli roared, his voice hoarse but undeterred. The crowd responded with a thunderous roar that shook the rafters. He repeated the call, each time the response growing more fervent. Finally, with a satisfied grin, he launched into the song's final breakdown.

The last power chord echoed through the arena, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. As the crowd slowly filed out, the massive screen behind the stage flickered to life, displaying the iconic BmTH logo emblazoned in flames. The crowd erupted once more, a collective gasp of awe and anticipation. The final image wasn't the logo though, it transformed into a simple message: "BmTH rocked my world." The sentiment hung in the air, a shared experience etched into the memory of everyone who witnessed the sonic spectacle.

Leaving the arena felt like emerging from a fever dream. Ears ringing, limbs aching, and voices hoarse from screaming along, the exhilaration lingered. It wasn't just a concert; it was a sonic exorcism, a cathartic release of primal energy. Bring Me The Horizon had delivered a masterclass in live performance, a brutal yet beautiful display of musical prowess and theatrical brilliance. They had reminded everyone why they remain one of the most vital and exciting forces in modern music.