Wolves in the Throne Room—a band that never cared much for black metal orthodoxy to begin with—recently took a sharp left turn off the dark path with Celestite (Artemisia), an LP of ambient synth exploration with nary a blast beat in sight. This added an extra layer of intrigue to their already storied live presence: Would they be pausing in the middle of a set for ten minutes of synth noodling, or would they leave their new-age material to the album?
Plenty of people were willing to buy a ticket to find out. The Star Theater was already 2/3 full by 8 pm for the opener, Portland’s own Druden. Wolves’ blend of Cascadian darkness and agrarian ethos brings a large and varied crowd in the Pacific Northwest: There were dudes in kilts and Paganfest tees, there were Burzum shirts, there were teen girls in battle jackets and crusty dread-headed eco-warriors. Druden held the room’s attention with straight-ahead shrieking black metal that alternated between one of the guitarist’s excellent dying-witch scream and the drummer’s deeper battle howl. With varied song structure and an ability to build some epic tension this four piece is formidable and warrant showing up early when they’re on the bill.
Nommo Ogo is an electronic collective of sorts that began in the Alaskan noise scene and has since migrated to Oakland. Wolves is bringing them along for the entire tour, perhaps as an ode to the ambient sounds of Celestite. This night Nommo Ogo was a three person unit surrounded by an assortment of synths, from which they summoned a host of teutonic burbles and industrial beats. Their compositions were somewhat meandering and suffered from the problem of many electronic sets, which is that there just isn’t much to engage with, particularly in comparison to the maelstrom of a blast-beat propelled live band. But there was a bracing moment when, without warning, the frontman broke a long instrumental trance by barking “onward!” and then repeating the phrase forcefully and violently for several minutes, giving the rest of their set a sense of urgency and unpredictability that it had previously lacked.
By the time Wolves’ five sylvan banners were unfurled, people were lined up three deep on the balcony and the floor of the Star Theater was full. The band has a reputation for playing shows in the dark, and while it wasn’t pitch black it was dim up there. Roadies with headlamps on spelunked around stage, lighting four oil lamps and prepping Nathan Weaver’s and another unnamed guitarist’s rigs and Aaron Weaver’s kit. Additional atmosphere was added by single blue lights shining up the fretboard of each guitar and a smoke machine.
After a false start caused by some technical difficulties with the second guitar, they played ‘Thuja Magus Imperium’, the opening track from Celestial Lineage (Southern Lord), to start the set. Any lingering questions about whether Wolves will still perform heavy music were answered upfront; they are playing exclusively older material and they are playing it damn well. The only trace of Celestite in the set was an ominous, erratically thudding soundscape they had cued to play over the PA in between songs. Otherwise it was a mix of songs from earlier albums including the gargantuan ‘(A Shimmering Radiance)Diadem of 12 Stars’ which they played second.
Inevitably, Wolves’ music loses some of the mist-covered atmosphere it has in album form when it is played live as a three piece. But, in its place, there is an intense ritualistic physicality. Nathan Weaver’s scream seems both richer and sharper in person, and has an almost tangible quality to it. Aaron Weaver’s drumming becomes a sort of primal force as he locks into ridiculous tom-heavy patterns. Together they created a trance-like state that wasn’t broken until the end of closer, ‘Prayer of Transformation’ and is more than worth witnessing if you get the chance.
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JARED CHRTISTENSON