Words & Photos By: Belinda Quick
‘The scales of reckoning with mortality are never evenly weighted, alas, and thus it is on the shoulders of the living that the burden of justice must continue to rest’ — Wole Soyinka, The Burden of Memory, The Muse of Forgiveness
The perception that some carry regarding heavy music, be it ‘core, metal or an amalgamation between, is somewhat appreciable at surface level. Adverse to most of the mainstream, I can understand that personal predilections define our musical code.
However, I find it unjustifiable, when presented with certain art that contains multitudes and levels, speaks not only in vicious tongues but moral tones, not to, at the very least, respect the craftsmanship and the extreme value in production.
New Jersey veterans FIT FOR AN AUTOPSY is a perfectly poignant example of this belief. Arguably the most politically astute band in the world today, certainly one the heaviest, their dual strengths are inextricably linked and mutually vital. An Adelaide girl devastated at missing my musical ‘White Whale’, on The Nothing That Is/It Comes For You tour, the choice was self-evident; it was time to go to Sydney.
Opening the Hymns of Melancholy at Sydney’s Liberty Hall, PAIN BODY are a frenetic display of professionalism far beyond the breadth of their current discography. Signing with Human Warfare in 2025 and concurrently releasing their EP, their rapid five-song performance is a dizzying Downward Spiral from first to Deathbed last. Vocalist Daniel ‘Dmac’ Macdonald’s eyes roll as red strobes bathe the stage in Tainted Blood, drummer Jesse Beahler annihilating his kit in an act of Eternal Retribution.
A circlepit summonsed, the audience is dominated by bedraggled clientele, caught in the torrential downpours of today. Accompanied by a formidable wind, these VOLATILE WAYS are but what visitors and locals alike have come to expect in Sydney. Nonetheless, the fact that only a month ago the state’s GOOD THINGS FESTIVAL was hit with an interminable heatwave does not escape me, as I shiver in my leather jacket and sodden Chuck Taylors.
Two stepping and pig squealing better than the best, femme fatale and smiling assassin vocalist, Emily Beekins begins marking off the Pink Mist Wish List. A true Goddess of Rot, her screams harmonised by guitarist Lewy Glass and bassist Brock King are backdropped by a video montage of feline Natural Selection in Televised Suicide. A Perfect Dark combination, calls of ‘side to side‘ for the new and ‘circle-fucking-pit‘ for the old balance The Invocation of Doom, as Alex MALEVOLENCE cameos. God Will Be Cut, as will ambivalence; tonight is for bold and brutal statements, and America is still yet to take the stage.
Supporting the almighty LORNA SHORE’s Australian tour eleven months ago, BODYSNATCHER pays homage to inspirational Aussie bands that brought them from Behind the Crowd to centre stage. Heads moving in unison, a sea of devil horns Take Me To Hell; ‘beautiful, just what I wanted’, the Kill Bill imagery of the Infested third act of Vile Conduct connects the band to the headliners via WILL PUTNEY’s production credits.
Wired for Destruction the Floridian heavyweights slice with precision like a Blade Between the Teeth, before, raspy-voiced, Kyle Medina pauses for technical difficulties. The hiatus recharging the batteries of a bevy of crowdsurfers, a moment of emotion for Twelve/Seventeen addresses the Open Wounds even the most hardened King of the Rats will endure; it’s the burden of mortality.
In preparation for the final performance, FFAA guitarist Pat Sheridan rushes across every angle of the stage, reassuring the overflowing crowd, ‘Just five more minutes’ until the headliners arrive. Anticipation built, FFAA see no benefit in egotistical fanfare, their presence is powerful enough. The band immediately explodes, as Joe Badolato’s Lower Purpose rally cry ignites: ‘I am a product of my fucking environment … Sold up the river, our culture’s a plague.’
Without need for exposition, It Comes For You speaks volumes, and, attested by the conversations amongst crowd members and choral iterations of the cries of ‘salvation’, we all stand united on the precipice of 2026’s Red Horizon. With unbelievable ease, every member plays the most perfect metal track ever created – A Higher Level of Hate is pure, weeping ecstasy.
With the same supreme confidence, Black Mammoth may not have ‘been in rotation for a while‘ but it is innate. A band whose prowess has been perfected over nearly two decades prove, you can never be held Hostage if you are true to your authentic self; each member demonstrating their individual contributions to progress, across this discographic journey.
The second act opens Pandora’s box, declaring the best is yet to come and Oh What The Future Holds. Badolato careens from serenade to scream, Sheridan solos, as bassist ‘Blue’ Spinazola & guitarist Tim Howley stand stoic amongst the strobes accompanying the rapid-fire Warfare of Josean Orta’s drumming. While ‘all (others) do is talk, and forget to fucking listen’, Fit communicate their Absolute Hope Absolute Hell powerfully.
A conglomerate adrift within A Sea of Tragic Beasts, we’re invited to ‘come up here’ in waves. Howley playfully gives the finger to Spinazola seemingly ushers in a unanimous moment of animation on and off stage. This record ‘changed my life‘, clearly a sentiment shared by the band and their fans, such as my new friend, Chris, who rejoices alongside me, as Savior of None / Ashes of All reigns down furious, exalting elation.
‘Alright, here we go’; devastation distracts my delight as I realise, it’s already the last rites. Badolato doesn’t really drink, ‘but, because I love this country so fucking much’, a shoey is performed in jest. Every artist smiling with supreme joy, every Sydneysider screaming in the same emotion, this is the benchmark for reference to all those that think this beautiful expression is not so Far from Heaven.
Of course, a humble opinion which challenges the established logic of some, there are some occasions which command the recalibration of the scales to grow and experience something beyond our preconceived notion of our own mortality; Fit For An Autopsy and tonight are keen examples.
