Brisbane's The Tivoli is already pulsing inside and out. There's a line of punters, here for Imminence's Return Of The Black tour, still snaking around the block as I make my way inside.
On the inside fans are packing in tight (10 October). Usually the beginning of a night inside The Tiv starts off with a cool temperature, but the heat is already rolling off bodies as the room fills to bursting. It's that thick, sticky kind of air – half beer, half anticipation and the doors have not long opened.
I arrive halfway through a Q&A onstage hosted by YouTubers Nath and Johnny from The Break Down and, honestly, I've no clue what it is I've just walked into. The blow-up palm trees on the stage are cuter than the bad jokes and some half-assed trivia that's happening with a couple of punters drawn from the crowd.
I mean none of them knows that Aretha bloody Franklin was the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (boo, indeed!). Next they play pin the violin on the. . . well, something definitely not PG, on a pull-up poster of Eddie Berg. Never thought I'd see a violin used like that, but here we are.
Lights dim. Inertia step out with an unassuming confidence. Julian Latouche (vocals) grips his mic, Mark Williamson (guitar) leans forward, Sebastian Schaber (drums) counts them in.
Inertia - image © Clea-marie Thorne
They open with 'Dying To Let You Go'. It's a steady, slow-burn start, tension building rather than chasing it. Latouche's vocals swing from silky clean to near-breaking, every word hanging sharp.
'Leviathan' hits and the front rows are already inching closer, Williamson's guitar slicing through while the rhythm section locks down hard. 'Dominion' kicks the first real gear shift, lights flashing red as the chorus drops and the crowd starts moving properly.
'Static' drags things deep again, dripping atmosphere. We are transfixed by 'Parallels' and by 'Too Far Gone', punters yelling the last lines back in unison, arms up, sweat flying. They finish with 'Lament', feedback howling through the air before dropping into silence. No fuss, and they're gone.
The lights dim once more after a brief intermission. The crowd – many now armed with fresh drinks – settle in, eager to pass the short wait. Instead of a classic Mexican Wave, the upper balcony launches into a clumsy but enthusiastic series of shimmy squats. It's less sultry showgirl and more. . . interpretive dance meets lost gym class. Cliche or not, the buzz in the room is electric.
There's a hush. One by one, Imminence walk out. Christian Höijer (bass) grounding the low end, Harald Barrett (guitar) and Alex Arnoldsson (guitar) tweak their tuning, and Eddie Berg (vocals/ violin) steps into the glow to stand at the mic, where his violin awaits.
Imminence - image © Clea-marie Thorne
Also onstage I believe is Mikael Norén (drums) filling the gap left by Peter Hanström since September this year. After a welcoming aural assault from the intro to 'Temptation', the first haunting notes from Berg's violin creep out, hauntingly slicing the expectant atmosphere.
'Desolation' follows, Berg's screams tearing out clean and raw jolting us from our dream state. 'Heaven Shall Burn' lands tight and surgical – no wasted movement. 'Death By A Thousand Cuts' has fans roaring along to its epic chorus, and 'Erase' hits like a slow avalanche, the band locked in, not showing off, just letting the music breathe heavy.
The lighting shifts between dark and moody to flickering blasts like the power failing in a haunted mansion. It's a feel, a vibe, an aesthetic that fits the band.
'Ghost' and 'Infectious' lift the whole room, melody blooming through distortion. Every drop has the crowd gasping, every pause pulling them in tighter. 'Cul-de-Sac' darkens the tone again with a heady instrumental interlude before 'Come What May' cracks it wide open. It is dynamic. It's the epitome of metalcore intensity and orchestral cinematic feels.
Imminence - image © Clea-marie Thorne
I join in with a full-room sing-along, voices tangled, people climbing on shoulders, crowd surfers going rank and the barricade bending under the push. There's little dialogue with the crowd tonight. However, this is a good thing in a sense that we remain immersed in the music; left to feel it and not be drawn in and out of its ambience.
Lights drop. You could hear a pin drop (ok maybe not) before 'L'appel du Vide' begins. We are treated to the violin bow across the Witch King's (Barrett) guitar and together we fall for his interpretation of this intricate instrumental. It's eerie and beautiful.
Berg's melodic slow-burn start to 'Come Hell Or High Water' lulls us and he lets the violin romance our ears some more. Contrasting vocals then barrel through while Norén's measured thumps turn against us and he slams hard as the place erupts for a short spurt to the song's end.
Norén is not done. He machine guns the beats kicking off 'Death Shall Have No Dominion' and we go mad as Arnoldsson showcases his guitar wizardry. 'God Fearing Man' follows and it is whispered in with vocals and discomfiting strings before littering the disconcerting feels with intermittent tormenting punches. Barrett's tone slices like wire, Norén pounding with brutal military precision.
Imminence - image © Clea-marie Thorne
Saving the best till last. Of course. 'The Black'. We ride the ebb and flow of its ethereal grace and soul-crushing heartbreak. The music fades and seals it. We understand this is the end. Violin-metalcore is for our ears no more.
No encore. No speech. A few set lists fly. Picks are tossed. Our headliners wave and throw heart hands to the crowd. Our souls left screaming into the void of silence, and silence never sounded so loud. The air's still heavy, humming like it's not ready to let go. Neither are we.
