Words – Rick Grimm
Photos – Mitch
Yet again, I walked into the wonderful world of Max Watts to worship at the altar of heavy metal. This time, it was for Sylosis’ long-awaited return to Australia after just over a decade. The venue was a melting pot of metal subgenres, with fans repping death, thrash, black, deathcore, and prog tees, cultivating an atmosphere of appreciation for the art of the riff. The merch stall was a treasure trove of killer designs, and the overhead speakers blared *Turbo Lover* by Judas Priest, setting the tone for a night of unrelenting metal chaos.
LUNE
Lune kicked things off with a bang, their singer Nathaniel Smith strutting onto the stage with the confidence of a seasoned frontman and the swagger of a man ready to command festival-sized crowds. The fat riffs hit hard, though the lack of cabinets on stage slightly dulled the initial impact. Still, the sound was serviceable, and by the first chorus, hands were already swaying in unison—an impressive accomplishment for an opening act.
The first solo of the night was unfortunately lost in the mix, a common teething issue for opening bands running fully DI rigs in venues of this size. Luckily, this was rectified by the second song and didn’t plague the night as it often does. But the blast beats? Glorious. The groove? Infectious. The night was off to a pleasantly raucous start. Before the second song, Nathaniel declared, “We’re here to piss off elitists.” You failed because I had an absolutely fantastic time thanks to you guys. The synced spins between the bassist and guitarist were a slick touch, and Nathaniel’s timbre control was on point all night. A killer drum fill and an old-school metalcore riff later, it was clear: this band was festival-ready.
The pit opened up during The Memory Replays, and the clean vocals were surprisingly solid. A pinch harmonic in desperate need of a bath due to its filth level brought a solitary appreciative tear to my eye, and the guitar solo courtesy of Krys Smith—finally audible—was a highlight. By the fifth song, Left Behind, Nathaniel let his hair down (literally), and the addition of some blast beats nearly got my jocks wet. Melbourne, however, needed to step up their moshing game—this performance deserved significantly more energy from the crowd.
I was unfamiliar with Angelmaker before tonight, but with a rad-as-hell band name (and killer merch on display), I had pretty high hopes. Drummer Steven Sanchez warmed up with a barrage of blast beats, instantly putting me in a good mood. They introduced themselves with Duel of Fates from the Phantom Menace OST, paired with a Princess Mononoke animated backdrop, setting the stage for a night of chaotic fun. Two vocalists, three guitars, and a vibe that screamed, “We are literally just here to have fun,” made them immediately endearing.
I found myself a little torn musically when listening to them perform because it was very genre-trope-heavy, which can sometimes feel a little one-note and bland. But these guys were delivering something that felt less like “we don’t know anything outside of these tropes” and more like “we love this genre because of these tropes and are going to play the fuck out of them.” Which I fully endorse.
The second track had a tribal yet blasty energy, with triplet chugs that hit all the right notes (which, in this case, is whatever the lowest note you can access). The lead break was quality and the obnoxious quarter-time breakdown with a scream? Chef’s kiss. But there’s one dude who stole the show. While everyone in Angelmaker put in the effort to perform, guitarist Johnny Ciardullo looked like every time he banged his head, a puppy was born and a CEO got shot. Dude was having the time of his life up there, and I was having a time watching it.
Musically, the highlight songs of the night were Bloodthirster, which gave off real YouTube anime fight scene edit energy (probably influenced by the Ghibli backdrop, but still), and the immediate following track. The latter song had the most interesting riffing and employed the classic “sick lead over a chug” dynamic really well.
Angelmaker finished the set strong as hell with the biggest singalong they had so far. Vocalist Casey Tyson-Pearce got nip-deep into the crowd to share the mic with those who wanted it. To wrap it all up, the ensemble gathered together centre stage to annihilate the sleep out of our bodies with the final riff. A stellar performance all around.
Sylosis finally graced the stage and used some impressively big tone as the conduit to deliver all of us to the gates of Riff City. The energy from the first note was electric. Rhythm guitarist Conor Marshall busted out an advanced spin-windmill hybrid move I’m dubbing the “gyroscope.” The second track, Pariahs, had strong forward momentum that really got the crowd going, and we saw our first crowd surfers of the night.
By track three, the circle pit was in full swing, and every band member proved they were world-class on their instruments. The singer-guitarist Josh Middleton was phenomenal, delivering tight licks while commanding some massively powerful vocals. The Path was a dedication to the art of the riff, with a djenty groove throughout and a flawlessly executed outro that would have taken just as much time to arrange as to rehearse, littered with full-band fills. Drummer Ali Richardson was in top form, especially during Conclusion of an Age, where a sick 4-bar drum fill showcased his stamina and creativity.
I think Servitude was where the band really started to show why they’re a step above. Not so much because of the song itself but more so its place in the set. I could see the energy waning among the cardio-phobic crowd, and the change-up to a slower, headbangier track came at just the right time to allow people to gather their spirits before we returned to full-throttle chaos. But the real moment of the song for me was when Josh released a pinch harmonic that squealed with all the fury of a thousand Satans having their nipples twisted off.
The night wrapped up with Deadwood, which really showed the group’s ability to control the mood in the room. Each groove change gave the audience a different style of mosh to engage with—bouncing, two-step, circle pit, we had ‘em all—culminating in a final call for the eminent ritual of distortion worship: the wall of death. Sylosis proved why they are the mosh maestros, delivering a set that was equal parts technical prowess and unrelenting energy.
This was a killer night of metal at its finest—diverse, energetic, and unapologetically heavy. Lune brought the swagger, Angelmaker the chaos, and Sylosis the precision. Melbourne, you witnessed greatness.
