Live Review: Opeth, O2 Academy

Rock-wise, France has tended to punch below its weight. OK, so there’s Christian Vander’s agreeably bonkers prog-jazzers Magma and half of Gong. But that was about it until Gojira and Alcest came along. The latter were last in town supporting Katatonia at the Fleece back in 2012 and are quick to win over a sizable chunk of the packed Opeth audience with their…well, what exactly? With roots in black metal, they’re now variously pigeonholed as ‘post-metal’, ‘alternative metal’ and even ‘dreamy pop’, being only metal act on the planet to cite the short-lived indie shoegaze movement as an influence. Whatever, Alcest’s hypnotic, melodic and strangely beautiful music has the potential to appeal to those who swear they don’t like this stuff. Let’s hope they come back and headline soon.

Perhaps still reeling from the Guardian’s five-star review of ace new album Pale Communion and its subsequent remarkable UK chart success, Stockholm’s Opeth have spent the past couple of days in Bristol preparing for this first night of another lengthy world tour. Mikael Akerfeldt – surely the drollest frontman in metal – even namechecks Gloucester Road’s Plastic Wax as the latest stop-off in his tireless quest for obscure prog vinyl.

Opeth’s gradual evolution from death metal to pure progressive rock has not been without its critics among our delightful friends in the troll community. But having just released an album brimming with strings, acoustic guitars and intricate vocal harmonies, the surprise is that they elect to play just three songs from it (Eternal Rains Will Come, Cusp of Eternity and the rather lovely Elysian Woes). Instead, they’re in the mood to rock, disinterring the epic The Moor from the first great Opeth album, Still Life, and even delving back as far as Morningrise for the obscure Advent, which had even hardcore fans looking puzzled. A gorgeous Windowpane, drenched in washes of keyboardist and occasional bongo player Joakim Svalberg’s mellotron (or modern synthesized equivalent), showcases their more sensitive side.

Akerfeldt, who’s been bitching and whining all night about his new equipment and the unfamiliar set, even though it all sounds just fine out here in punterland, introduces the fiendishly complex The Devil’s Orchard with a smirk as “a song we can’t possibly fuck up”. Needless to say, they pull it off flawlessly. With the club night early curfew fast approaching (“You must respect the people who want to dance,” Akerfeldt chides us, dryly), they return for a solitary encore. But – hey! – it’s the fabulous, 14-minute, precision riff-driven Deliverance. While it would have been grand to hear the standout tracks from Pale Communion (Goblin, River, Voice of Treason), it’s safe to say that no one went home disappointed.