Words and photos by: Courtney Stark
202666 is proving to be a sinfully stacked year for heavy metal bands of various subgenres making the pilgrimage to the land down under, and not without an ounce of coincidence, to defrost their cold bones from the frozen European and Scandinavian winter, where at best, it’s as hot as the planes of Gorgoroth. Polish titans of black metal followed suit and instead of rolling through town on a run-of-the-mill tour cycle, affirmed a relationship that’s been forged in the fire of repetition for years.
Complementing the cornucopia of extreme metal concerts and the heavy swill of album releases thus far, Behemoth descended upon Sydney with an unpretentious level of ferocity that reminds us why their returns are never routine. They did what they did best and carved their presence into the very bones of the Metro Theatre — deliberately, theatrically, and absolutely unrelenting.
Before the main ceremony began, Nidhogg descended upon an already packed bandroom and wasted no time sharpening the atmosphere and anointing the venue with blood. Nidhogg’s descent was raw, unpolished and full of abrasion. The room filled quickly, and the crowd didn’t stand idle — they leaned in. By the time their closing track rang out, the floor was no longer warming up; it was ready for the ritual to begin.
When the lights finally dropped for Behemoth, the shift was immediate — not just a change in illumination, but a change in atmosphere, like oxygen being siphoned from the room. Smoke and stark lighting carved the stage into something resembling a profane cathedral, all shadow and silhouette, and Nergal emerged with that familiar, eschatological authority — less frontman, more high priest delivering end-times liturgy and the Metro Theatre shrank in on itself and Nergal’s vocals cut through like invocation — controlled, deliberate, unwavering. Each song felt placed with intent, part of a larger ceremony rather than a loose collection of crowd-pleasers.
Behemoth unleashed an effortlessly balanced set spanning decades — older material delivered not as nostalgia, but as scripture revisited, standing shoulder to shoulder with newer compositions that expand the doctrine. Thirty years in, they sound sharpened, disciplined and utterly devotional. Nothing here is autopilot; every gesture is precise, rehearsed and somewhat perilous, like a blackened liturgy performed in smoke and shadow and a rite repeated countless times but still capable of drawing blood. Each note, each beat, each guttural invocation feels consecrated — a ceremony of sound that binds band and congregation in unholy communion.
Sydney’s response was no mere passive observation or detached curiosity. It was bodies colliding in ecstatic communion, arms raised not casually but reverently, voices roaring back as though answering a call. It felt less like attendance and more like participation. A reaffirmation that extreme metal in Australia isn’t merely surviving in the margins — it’s congregating, organised, and insatiably hungry for the next sermon. Let this serve as a stark reminder that not only is the metal scene in Australia alive and fervent, but also 202666 is proving to be a wondrous year for metal bands to descend on our shores.
GALLERY
NIDHOGG
BEHEMOTH
